The realisation had hit as we rode off from the museum, three of us in total, unsure of what was to come. We were to take the side streets and bike path of St Georges Road till the bike track ran out and from then well yeah... Tas was our local knowledge though and in good spirits, with jokes aplenty, we made good pace and got through to St Georges with relative ease.
Feeling very good at smashing the first 20km with ease, we were in the flow, lone figures going against the wave of cyclists going into the city. Thoughts came to my head that this was the symboligy the ride was set on to reverse such a trend in Timor. For me it was easy to do I chose to come to the city in the first place, it was not something I had to do to survive in life and for this I feel so privelidged. In raising money to go towards helping people our age not have to use all their energy just to create the slightest of chances of employment and to help them give oppotunity towards reversing this trend of their peers, it is affective at creating determination to make our event work.
We were getting on at this stage before the bike track ran out, we ended up detouring before asking a friendly italian gentleman for the directions and we were now 20 odd km out, on the outskirts. Stopping for pitstop, we eventually were met by the sweet Calais of Tess, the immitating filming Jeep of Ling and the mad max-like van of Ben. I do not deem that dubbing of mad-max like in anyway. After getting supplies from the battle wagon we had unloaded the relay bike which was delayed earlier. Now there were five of us and after passing under the eastern ring road, we were now starting to come onto those wide country roads.
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