Continuing my quest to seek out as many new bars and clubs in Wellington as I can, Saturday night I notched up a couple more for the list. Josh, Yaz and
Eleanor invited me out, and we were planning on heading to
Tupelo, but when the others arrived they discovered it was closed to the public for a private function. So I met them at the
Buena Vista Social Club, where we sat in comfy lounges in a basement setting listening to Cuban rhythms and sipping
Mojitos. Alex (she's a
Glaciologist!) joined us a bit later, and then we decided to check out the old haunt of
Havana, keeping the Cuban theme going. It, too, had been closed for a private function, and the dregs of said party were still in force, including a band playing Oasis covers, among others. Now, when confronted with a band playing Oasis covers, the best defense is to get the hell outa there, so it was back down to
Cuba Mall where we decided $5 to get into
Mighty Mighty wasn't plausible either, being the poor people we are (well, me anyway).
Next door,
Matterhorn, a really cool bar tucked away down a corridor, was free and had a band playing who Alex (she's a Glaciologist!) said were pretty damn good. She was right.
The Eggs are a bit of a funk supergroup, made up of members of other Wellington heavyweights like
Fat Freddy's Drop and the
Phoenix Foundation. They had the place packed and jumping, well more like hip-shaking and grooving with their fat basslines, solid backbeat, pinging percussion and howling horn section. We all gave it a good nudge on the dancefloor, before Josh did his usual trick of slinking away unnoticed. Eleanor is really interesting, cool and a good laugh, beside the fact that she
rode across South America on her own in 2004, and just brushed it aside as if it was nothing. Check out her amzing images of the trip
here. Yaz, Alex and myself were the last ones standing (dancing) at about 2, so it was off home to watch the
time trial of le Tour, and to see if Cadel could bring home the yellow. Johnny Klink rang me a couple of times to discuss the race and other topics, finally waking me up as the stage finished with Cadel failing to get the time needed for the yellow.
Second is an awesome effort though, best ever by an Aussie, but I think he really could've been more aggressive in the mountains. Maybe not. There is so much that I could say about this year's Tour, with all the drug scandals again, but what hasn't already been said? There's really no surprises anymore. I still love the sport, yes I hope there can be a more level playing field in future, but that's what makes it so interesting too, the lengths these guys have to go to just to survive three weeks of torture. Hopefully tonight I can survive one more stage and see the magnificent landmarks of Paris, always a highlight of the world's greatest sporting event.
This afternoon I'd planned to finally get back up to Makara with Marty, who just spent up big getting his drivetrain replaced. His rear derailleur need some TLC too, so I rebuilt it and re-fitted it to his bike. By the time we'd done this, the weather had turned to shit again and the rain was coming down just enough to make it undesirable. We drove up there anyway, and the carpark was full of guys and bikes covered in crap, so I pulled the pin but Marty and Mark decided that his new drivetrain should be made old in the quickest time possible. The trails are apparently getting pretty chopped up, and it's against my policy to ride in mud if I can avoid it. So it looks like tomorrow will be another Langster day, I'm really keen to try and crack a century on the fixed gear. That's gotta be good for the soul, if not the knees!
That's why Vanilla is always the best flavour. Top it with chocolate sauce, or Milo, or the fruit of your choice. Much like Vanilla bikes. Start with a beautiful, simple but oh so tasty steel frame, keep it simple if you wish as an SS, or pimp it up with the best toppings you desire. Mmmm....
Next door, Matterhorn, a really cool bar tucked away down a corridor, was free and had a band playing who Alex (she's a Glaciologist!) said were pretty damn good. She was right. The Eggs are a bit of a funk supergroup, made up of members of other Wellington heavyweights like Fat Freddy's Drop and the Phoenix Foundation. They had the place packed and jumping, well more like hip-shaking and grooving with their fat basslines, solid backbeat, pinging percussion and howling horn section. We all gave it a good nudge on the dancefloor, before Josh did his usual trick of slinking away unnoticed. Eleanor is really interesting, cool and a good laugh, beside the fact that she rode across South America on her own in 2004, and just brushed it aside as if it was nothing. Check out her amzing images of the trip here. Yaz, Alex and myself were the last ones standing (dancing) at about 2, so it was off home to watch the time trial of le Tour, and to see if Cadel could bring home the yellow. Johnny Klink rang me a couple of times to discuss the race and other topics, finally waking me up as the stage finished with Cadel failing to get the time needed for the yellow. 
Big Nath aka Mr T. was dj'ing at Fevah, possibly NZ's biggest dance party. So with my name on the door and another double pass won on the radio for Josh and Bella, we headed along to check it out. Three levels in the club, Imerst, which is actually a gay club on any other night. The two lower levels were hard styles, trance etc, not my cuppa at all, but the top level was the good stuff, prog/electro. Hung out up there most of the night, checked out a bit of Nath's set but couldn't cut it without any glowsticks or ChupaChups! Not a bad night, but the lack of sleep had me struggling a bit on Monday. Of course the best way to blow out the webs is with a ride... Makara is still a mudpit, as evidenced by the bikes that have been coming in for service, so the Langster was in action yet again. 
Looking across the harbour, to the snow-capped Tararuas (thanks Lindsay) in the north.
Looking across the Cook Strait to the snow-capped mountains-which-I-don't-know-the names-of at the top of the South Island, from Princess Bay. I now know, thanks to my uncle Lindsay, that they are "the Seaward Kaikouras on the left and the Inland Kaikouras on the right. The highest peak visible in the Inland Kaikoura range is Mount Tapuaenuku; at 9465 feet (2885 m) it is higher than anything in the North Island (or even Australia :-) Tapuaenuku is around 120km from Wellington's South Coast." I bet he just got that off the top of his head, too! 
The Wellington surfers amaze me with their commitment to the waves. The water must be like ice, but there are always a few out at Lyall Bay.
The "wind tunnel" under the airport runway. I always think there will be respite from the ocean wind in here, but it's actually worse sometimes!
Speights Old Dark is probably the equivalent of Tooheys Old from Aus, but it says 5 Malt on the label so it must be a bit more upmarket. Or not. But it tastes good, and it has a hoppier flavour than Tooheys. And I like hops. Apparently it goes well with "steamed pudding", but that sounds a bit too adventurous for me. I know it goes well with salt n vinegar crisps, but then again I was very, very drunk...
indoor training sessions under the belt, there was only one thing to do; Langster Bayride!
The harbour looks so great when the sun is shining and there's no wind. 
This end of Oriental Parade was a lot quieter than the city end, where people were out in force. 
Around near the airport at Lyall Bay. I watched a few planes come and go, and thought about home (my Australian home, not my NZ home). Looking forward to going back for a month in September, then back to NZ for the summer of singletrack (and more sun!). I ended up with 70km of fixed gear goodness on Sunday, and another 40km today. Tomorrow night it's back on the night ride mission, the trails should be just about perfect by then.
The highlight for me was "Cancerella's" stage win when he took it upon himself to stomp across the gap to the breakaways and take the win. Awesome. Now, bring on the mountains.
A BMXer pictured earlier today... he confused a motorcycle for a bicycle.
I left the guys at Seatoun and turned back for some extra k's, and cruising past the Chocolate Fish cafe I spotted Josh and Yaz who were making a pitstop on their cruisy ride. Yaz generously bought me a hot chocolate and we sat in the warmth (with frozen toes) before heading our seperate ways back to town.
There weren't any people doing this on Sunday, despite the sun.
Taking advantage of the fact that he was the only rider there, Col actually believed that 'the hills were his'...
Missing the security of home, Col brought his special friends with him, but the voices in his head kept saying "nail the bears to the tree..."
