I managed to stay un-lost for most of the trip, although there was one section where I was really starting to wonder where I was. Then I spotted a fence that was covered in familiar looking graffiti, and I knew I was on the right track. That is the first time that I have found stupid looking spray painted stuff to be vaguely useful.
The highlight of the trip was finding a handmade chocolate shop called Adora. I'm glad I picked up a business card from them because I didn't even know which suburb I was in. They are at 10 Homer St, Earlwood. I'm happy to give them a big plug as they were really, really good.
The shop is quite small - it would be squishy if more than 6 people piled in to check out what's under the counter. They have 3 or 4 small tables outside on the footpath, and that's it.
I had no idea they existed. I had ridden to Tempe (which meant going straight past them without noticing the shop) and was on my return journey when I looked across the road and spotted two cyclists having a coffee outside a shop. I then looked at the shop awning and saw the words "handmade chocolates".
That's when I did a rapid U-turn, parked my bike with the other two and went in to order a coffee and select some chocolates.
The coffee is a bit more expensive than usual ($3.80 for a cup), but it comes with a chocolate of your choice. I ordered two more, and the bill came to a bit over $6. The only thing stopping me from getting more was the shortage of cash in my wallet.
Their brochure, which doubles as a very nifty business card, lists 41 chocolates. I like the really dark and evil stuff, so I had a chocolate orange slice, a chocolate ganache and an almond cluster. All were delicious. The coffee was excellent. The water in the carafe was cold. The view was ok. The other cyclists were very pleasant to talk to. The waitress was very nice.
It's a pity it's all the way down in Earlwood. I could get used to hanging out at Adora.
I had a chat with the cycling couple for maybe 20 minutes. They were from the Central Coast, and were having a holiday in Sydney, staying at a hotel at Homebush. I think they took a much more liesurely approach to riding than I do - by the looks of things, it had taken them all day to get from Homebush to Tempe and then back to this chocolate shop.
The woman asked all sorts of questions about my shoes, since I wear hard soled racing shoes with cleats sticking out the bottom. They had "old fashioned" pedals with normal sneakers on. She was amazed that I could ride in cleats without tipping over and killing myself. Well, I have gone over sideways once, and have seen other people do it right in front of me, and as I told her, you only ever do it once. Falling sideways off your bike onto concrete usually provides a particularly salutory lesson.
I am absolutely stuffed again. My leg muscles feel bruised. I felt great though on the homeward run - once I was back on the road, there were a few occasions where I really had to jump on the pedals in order to keep up with the traffic, and my legs were just so full of power, I was quite amazed. I just tromped on the pedals, and the bike flew away underneath me. It's a great feeling.
Of course it only lasted for a few hundred metres. Then I was out of breath and shagged.
No comments:
Post a Comment