So I’ve set off at last. Today’s journey: 60km to a hostel inbetween Bay of Islands and Ahipara. I feel that 3:30pm is a little late to be setting off, but with six hours of daylight remaining, I’m not concerned. I am about 2.5km in and I hear a hissing. Of course. My back tyre is deflating. That didn’t take long. I head to a sunny spot on the side of the road and get out my spare inner tube. I’m not sure what could cause a flat tyre on a sealed road. I then deduce that the cause was my sleep-deprived state. The tyre has split on the valve. I wonder if the bike has been sitting in the store a long time and the rubber has gone brittle. I then inspect my front wheel. Nope, I think the problem is me. The valves weren’t in straight. It turns out that when one assembles a bicycle having not slept for 48 hours, one makes a few whoopsies (spoiler: more significant whoopsy coming up). I adjust the front tyre too and ensure that the back tyre inner tube is in properly. I also take the opportunity to ensure both are inflated to the correct PSI. This is a 15 minute delay. It’s not the end of the world.

I continue my journey through scenic countryside and then find myself arriving on a dirt track. When ascending steep hills, it’s not a bad thing to be far from traffic. Also, it’s pretty. As I reach kilometer 15, I notice something strange. My right-hand pedal feels a bit odd. I can’t decide if it is my pedal or my foot being weird or just the bumpy dirt track. After another 2km, I pull over to have an inspection. Ah. The pedal is very loose. I try to tighten it and then realise that once again, I’m in a pickle. Another whoopsy daisy when re-assembing my bike. I think I’ve done a bad job of screwing the pedal in and ended up cross-threading it. The hard metal on the pedal has completely destroyed the ridging of the soft metal inside the crank arm (the bit the pedal screws into for our non-bike-experts – I only learned this word upon realising I needed a new one). There is no way that this is going to go back in again. Deflated, I realise that this is something that I need to go to a bike store to fix. I need a new crank arm. As it happens, the nearest bike store (by about 200km) is back in the Bay of Islands. I need to go back there. It’s time for me to return like a bad penny. I call Bex and Jake.

After only a 15 minute wait, the heroes arrive to pick me up. What am I like? We pop the bike back in the ute (where it has spent most of its time on this trip) and I join them at the seafront to have dinner with Jake’s parents and their friend John. Once again, despite all the drama, I am having a lovely time. Jake’s parents are on top form and the banter does not stop. If my plan Bs continue to be this good, I might just throw the bike into the sea at this point. We drive home and Jake’s parents come over for a cheeky late night tipple of whisky and I enjoy my Kiwi family’s company for another evening.

The next day, Bex is heading into Kerikeri anyway and drops me off at the bike store. This is the bike store that I had originally intended to buy the bike from. I won’t lie, I have a cheeky look around to check that there are no mountain bikes and that the owner wasn’t just trolling me. There are mountain bikes, but for people approximately 20 years younger than me. I’ll let this slide. The man in the shop has a look at the bike and ponders over whether or not he has the right part. After a few minutes of fishing around, he finds it and tells me to come back in an hour. In the meantime, Bex, myself and boys chill at the park and Jaden introduces me to the playground obstacle course (which he can complete one second faster than I can). I then return to the shop and am greeted by some excellent news. The bike is in working order. What’s more is that the gentlemen kindly checked everything over to ensure that the bike is ready to go. For the modest fee of 70NZD (or £32), I am all sorted. I personally feel that he deserves more. He also says that the bike is perfect for the route I am doing, which is certainly a comfort.

Bex kindly offers to drive me roughly half way to Ahipara, so I only have to do 60km instead of 110km today. After yet another emotional farewell, it’s time to get cycling. I am sure that everyone in that car ride home is wishing that they do not see me again in two hours time.

The cycle ride is stunning. The New Zealand countryside is something quite whimsical. Rolling hills dotted with cows and sheep and streams and rivers flowing everywhere. It’s clear why Narnia was filmed here. I had set off somewhat hastily and probably should have eaten and drank more before the journey. I had also applied my suncream right before cycling and immediately sweat it all off. This was quite the error.

After enduring some quite honestly vile hills, I arrive in Ahipara. The only shop in the town was due to close at 5pm and I arrive at 5:30pm. By some miracle, it’s still open. I buy myself some knock off lemon Fanta, called ‘Lift’ and, my god, does it deliver on its name. I then pull into my first campsite and get my tent set up. To my delight, they have a little shop and full kitchen facilities, so I whip myself up a carby meal.

My final stop of the day is Ninety Mile Beach. My plan tomorrow is to cycle along it and finally reach the starting point, Cape Reinga Lighthouse. As I arrive at the beach, at sunset, I get a little emotional. The journey is truly underway. This, being the starting point, is the part of the journey that I have imagined the most and now I am here. There are tyre tracks along the sand. For some people, their journey has already begun. As the tide rises tonight, these markings will be washed away, forming a blank canvas ready for a fresh set of beginnings tomorrow. Myself included.