Saturday 12 September 2009

Leaving Ucluelet - Day 9 - Rest Day


Today I had to get the boat back to Port Alberni. The boat wasn't scheduled to arrive in Ucluelet until 2pm. It would arrive at our destination, Port Alberni at 7pm. It wouldn't be possible to do any riding today and I'd decided it would make sense to stay in a motel rather than have to set up camp so close to dark.

As I was making my morning coffee a cyclist camping nearby came over for a chat. He wore very skimpy shorts and looked like a much slimmer version of Captain Birdseye. 'You have a bike.', he said. This was a great opening gambit I thought. He was from the south of Vancouver Island so I was able to probe him for local knowledge. We chatted for some time about weather and hills – some of my favourite subjects at the moment. I've had little contact with other cyclists so far – perhaps because I'm a little off the beaten track. I expect I'll see many more as I head further south.

I paid a visit to Ukee Bikes to see if the kickstand the owner had told me about on Wednesday had come in. To my surprise it had. Without asking him to, the owner fitted it for me. I'm glad he did because when fitted to the bike, the stand did not clear the chain. Unphased by this the guy took the stand into his workshop and customised it using some pieces of aluminium. The guy also put a super-tough, skull-emblazoned Ukee Bikes sticker on my mudguard. All this for only £13.

The boat back to Port Alberni was a completely different experience to the one I took in the other direction on Wednesday. The weather was beautifully clear and it was hot. I passed the 5 hour trip by wandering round the outside decks looking for whales. I saw 3 Humpbacks, one gave me a great display of its tail. I don't think anybody else on board saw it. I decided not to tell anyone because it would've triggered a stampede of pensioners with cameras, obscuring my view.

I chatted briefly with a couple of cyclists also taking the boat. They looked like proper hobos. The guy was wearing sweatpants with a split so large in the saddle area that you could see the entirety of his underwear. They seemed impressed that I plan to cycle to Mexico. I'd be impressed if he changes those sweatpants before Christmas.

Riding up the steep hill away from the dock towards my motel a truck pulled alongside and started beeping at me. I stopped. 'Do you know where you're going?', the old guy driving the truck asked. 'Tonight or more generally?', I asked rather stupidly. He said he'd seen me come off the boat and wanted to make sure I knew where I was going. He recommended some places to stay in town. I told him I knew where I was going and thanked him very much. I find it hard to imagine something like this happening back in London.

Port Alberni seemed even rougher than it had during my stay a couple of days ago so I checked into the first motel I came to. The lady on the front desk told me that this weekend the Fall Fair was in town. She warned me that when the fair comes to town everybody from the surrounding area comes to tear up the town. It must get pretty bad as a security guard had been employed especially to guard the motel. The motel is not the sort of place you'd go for a romantic weekend away. In fact, it seems most people staying here are living here. I'm guessing people don't live in a motel like this through choice.

Once again a night indoors is leaving me yearning to return to the tent. I've actually become surprisingly comfortable sleeping in the tent. My body is now completely in tune with the sun. When it gets dark I sleep, when the sun rises so do I. When it rains, I cry.

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