Loving the good
weather, I went out for another bike ride. This time rather than
riding around the city, popping into a pub or something local, I
decided to go over the bridge to North Sydney. I didn't come to that
decision easily. I spent the good part of two hours sitting in the
botanical gardens thinking. Not just thinking about what to do for
that day but on another day or another week and even what my plan was
for when I returned to England. Part of me really wants to sort some
stuff out and work out a plan to get myself back to Australia to live
there permanently, the rest of me is unsure. I'm still thinking about
what to do but am leaving it up to chance rather than pondering and
getting worked up about it.
The sun was still out,
it was really hot, too hot and sunny for me to be without shade and
reading. I can only handle a little bit of sun, coming from a
Mediterranean family I should be fine with the sun but it gets to me,
I simply can't handle the heat. I got on my bike and rode.
Unless you're used to
doing it, it can be quite confusing trying to find to entrance ramp
to the cycle path side of the Harbour Bridge. It wasn't like I was
riding around for an hour trying to find the most inconspicuous
little entrance but it certainly wasn't signposted the best possibly
way. The cycle path is on the opposite side of the bridge to the foot
path. Bikes are not allowed onto the footpath. Pedestrians are
definitely not allowed on the cycle path, in fact either
entrance/exit is guarded by very bored looking security guards. Their
politeness didn't waiver, not matter how bored they were. I received
a very smiley hello, acknowledged the greeting and was on my way.
The Harbour Bridge has
a very shallow gradient going up to the central peak, then the same
or similar gradient on the other side. You have to really put your
back into it when you're getting up but once you get other the top,
you don't even need to peddle. If you do want to peddle though I
would advise putting the bike into the highest gear and keeping your
hands tightly on the handle bars, you do get up to some considerable
speed. I forgot to check at the time but I wonder if it was fast
enough to puff out your cheeks like when you stick your head out of
the car window and open your mouth, allowing the wind to get in and
rapidly fill you mouth with air stretching your cheeks as far as they
can get without tearing. There isn't much of a view on this side. The
Opera House and city view is on the footpath side. Plus there is a
massive steel cage going up high, rolling over at the top with a
small gap between the two sides with barbed wire at the edge. I can
only assume that it is to try and prevent suicides, the bridge is
big, long and very high, you wouldn't want anybody jumping off now
would you. Roughly just over a kilometre end to end, it takes a good
few minutes to cycle over even with the speed.
I'd been over the
bridge before but never ventured into North Sydney. I had no idea
where I was going. To make matters worse, it was really hot and sunny
now, I was sweating profusely and my eyes were starting to sting. The
sweat was running into my eyes causing a serious amount of
discomfort.
It was lunch time and
all the workers were out filling all of the million food courts that
North Sydney seems to have. Everywhere you look there is another
pedestrianised little square or walkway with cafés, restaurants and
fast food vendors all along and around them. It looks like there is
any cuisine to cater for the most difficult and fussy person. I
wasn't in the mood for food and was lost so pulled over the the
pavement, mounted it and into the shade. In the confusion of being
somewhere I'd never been before, I somehow managed to miss the
turning and carried on along the Pacific Highway. I must have ridden
about two miles before I thought it best to stop and check a map. All
it took was taking the wrong turn at a fork and I was miles away. I
back tracked all the way to the fork and then took the right turn,
not the left. I spoke to my brother Dom and said I'd meet him in the
Rag and Famish Hotel from the other week. Not for a steak but I was
really thirsty and needed to catch up on some reading and writing,
any maybe drinking.
I locked my bike up
across the road and went inside. When I first arrived it was packed,
full of suits and lots of people resembling characters you might be
more familiar with from a Brett Easton Ellis novel. I didn't blend in
at all but did my best to fade into the background and sat at a stool
by the window and read. I didn't really want to drink alcohol but had
a mini, like really small craving for a beer. I only bought a midi
and got a large glass of icy cold water to rehydrate myself. There
was food everywhere around me, I was starting to get hungry. I didn't
plan to eat out but as every moment went by I felt the rumbles
getting larger and closer together. I held off for a while though, I
wasn't hungry enough yet and it was probably too busy to eat.
The midi I bought was a
Pale Ale of sorts. I can't remember what one it was all I knew was
that I'd had it before and it had a relatively plain label. It was a
typically great Pale, light, crisp, fruity with hints of the tropical
hops I love so much. I still had some left when Dom arrived. He
wasn't drinking or eating as he'd been out to some other work
function thingy. He seems to have a work function almost every other
day, actually in the time I was there probably more than every other
day. It was more like he only had a regular day once a week. Now I
don't know if that's a good or bad thing, certainly keeps you busy.
The pub was slowly
emptying out leaving behind the tradesmen, old aged pensioners and
me. To an onlooker I probably came across and probably still do come
across as being unemployed. Maybe I was or maybe not, I was on
holiday and that was all that mattered. I was relaxing and enjoying a
good beer and great food. The stale smell of sweat masked by
expensive aftershave lingered in the air and mixed with spilled beer
and cigarette smoke. Even though it had almost completely emptied
out, I waited until I finished my second midi before I ordered food.
I was so excited to see
Coopers 'Vintage 2014' on tap. I hadn't had that vintage before and
the last time I had a Coopers Vintage was years ago. It was a beer I
used to treat myself to after a month of hard work. I do really like
Vintage ales as they are so complex, intense, long lasting, quite
often improve with age and have a lot of booze in. Unlike Barley
Wines which seem to serve a purpose to get you drunk, Vintage ales
are more likened to fine Cognacs or Whiskies and often as complex.
The time was right now,
I was a few sips into my gorgeous Coopers Vintage and the hunger had
set in. The rumbles were now loud enough to be heard out of my body.
My decision to order a pie had been made long before I was any where
ready to order it. Dom had told me the last time we were in the Rag
and Famish that the Beef and Guinness pie was amazing. So much
tender, seasoned meat in a rich and thick beefy beery sauce topped
with a crispy and buttery pie crust. It was served with a big pile of
chips and they had a counter top full of many different sauces. I
wasn't in the mood for anything too spicy or ketchup so I had a small
pot of sweet chilli sauce. I tapped the crust with my fork until it
cracked. I felt like an Eskimo ice fishing for one of those big fish
that seem to live and thrive in freezing conditions. My fork went
through the pie crust, directly impaling a piece of beef like a
trident spear penetrating the side of an Arctic fish. When I pulled
out the fork, the tender piece of beef was still attached. That was
until it went into my mouth and was not allowed to escape the grasp
of my teeth.
If the first piece was
anything to go on, the pie was destined to be fantastic. It was more
than fantastic, it was incredible, amazing. So meaty, rich and
flavoursome. The meat was melt in your mouth tender and seasoned so
perfectly that it required no further thoughts about salt or pepper.
My eyes were playing a trick on me. It was a small pie but was very
very filling. With the chips on the side it made for a very
fulfilling lunch. At $13 it sounded expensive but was worse every
cent.
After I finished I sat
for a good while digesting my lunch and reading until I was satisfied
my food would not come up to haunt me as I rode back over the bridge
and into the city.
Amazing top crust pies and an excellent and forever changing assortment of brilliant craft beers
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