I departed for Newport News (21 miles away) and on my way out of Williamsburg I had to go through the historical part of the town which took up a mile in length and about half a mile in width. Yip, a whole setting dating back to the 1700's. I passed by the last British governors house and took a pic of it just for you.
and another one.
No cars allowed on their roads, only carriages and bicycles.
See the white tent, that's me camping there. Just kidding.
This was the town hall.
The road to Newport News was not a great road for cycling, narrow in places and often no hard shoulder.
As I got into Newport News I found myself racing dozens of yellow school buses from one traffic light to the next. I eventually made it to my host from www.warmshowers.org. warmshowers.org is a website where cyclists host other touring cyclists for free. Paul looked identical to a friend of mine Harold who pastors a church in Hillbrow, Johannesburg, one of the most dangerous areas in the world. It was once a predominantly white trendy residential suburb of Johannesburg in the 1970's, with high rise apartment blocks, but as black people moved in whites moved north, leaving only a hand full of poor whites behind. The buildings became dilapidated, and Nigerian slumlords moved in and began extorting rent from the tenants. Landlords abandoned their buildings, fearing for their lives.
Paul was 62, a Nam Vet,and retired aircraft technician from NASA. He was easy to converse with and it felt like I had known him for years. He had done a lot of cycling and hiking all over the USA. He showed me to my spacious bedroom, which was tastefully done with a soft thick towel on a wooden chair for my use. I couldn't wait to shower,to wash away all the clammy sweat from my body. I emerged from the shower all fresh and deodorised.
He produced two bottled beers from the refrigerator, we sat in his cool back garden and chatted about my route and his endeavours as I swallowed on the beer enjoying the conversation and soothing taste of the beer going down my throat.
Paul told me that his next door neighbour practiced pole vaulting. I looked to my right and saw this massive blue mattress, a pole vault and track leading to the mattress. His neighbour was 77 years of age and the USA veteran pole vaulting champion which intrigued me no end. Paul said the old man had to sprint to gain enough momentum for the pole to bend and propel him upside down into the air and over the bar. I couldn't help thinking of what might happen if he missed the mattress.
The road to Newport News was not a great road for cycling, narrow in places and often no hard shoulder.
As I got into Newport News I found myself racing dozens of yellow school buses from one traffic light to the next. I eventually made it to my host from www.warmshowers.org. warmshowers.org is a website where cyclists host other touring cyclists for free. Paul looked identical to a friend of mine Harold who pastors a church in Hillbrow, Johannesburg, one of the most dangerous areas in the world. It was once a predominantly white trendy residential suburb of Johannesburg in the 1970's, with high rise apartment blocks, but as black people moved in whites moved north, leaving only a hand full of poor whites behind. The buildings became dilapidated, and Nigerian slumlords moved in and began extorting rent from the tenants. Landlords abandoned their buildings, fearing for their lives.
Paul was 62, a Nam Vet,and retired aircraft technician from NASA. He was easy to converse with and it felt like I had known him for years. He had done a lot of cycling and hiking all over the USA. He showed me to my spacious bedroom, which was tastefully done with a soft thick towel on a wooden chair for my use. I couldn't wait to shower,to wash away all the clammy sweat from my body. I emerged from the shower all fresh and deodorised.
He produced two bottled beers from the refrigerator, we sat in his cool back garden and chatted about my route and his endeavours as I swallowed on the beer enjoying the conversation and soothing taste of the beer going down my throat.
Paul told me that his next door neighbour practiced pole vaulting. I looked to my right and saw this massive blue mattress, a pole vault and track leading to the mattress. His neighbour was 77 years of age and the USA veteran pole vaulting champion which intrigued me no end. Paul said the old man had to sprint to gain enough momentum for the pole to bend and propel him upside down into the air and over the bar. I couldn't help thinking of what might happen if he missed the mattress.
My room the morning after
If you look carefully you will see the blue pole vaulting mattress behind the shrubs, I couldn't resist taking a pic.
Paul standing next to his V.W. Transporter camper van.
Whilst Paul and his wife Pat were not believers, his good works and kindness were very humbling. He felt Christians were not living up to what we were preaching. I remarked that his benevolence and social love was unusual and that unless God moved in my heart with compassion, I could not truly just love strangers and maybe he was setting the bar too high for Christians. Paul took me to a busy, family owned mexican restaurant and boy do I love buretto's. When we got back home I said goodnight and departed for bed. The next morning I was awoken to the coffee aroma and egg and gammon sizzling on the stove, Pat cooked a mean breakfast which I wolfed down followed by the Latte Paul made.
After lunch at Paul's friends house Rick, a retired accountant, Paul took me about 15 miles over the bridge to Virginia Beach where we said our goodbye's knowing we would possibly see each other again. I took Paul aback as I prayed "Lord get him" and then made my quick exit before he could say a word.
Whilst Paul and his wife Pat were not believers, his good works and kindness were very humbling. He felt Christians were not living up to what we were preaching. I remarked that his benevolence and social love was unusual and that unless God moved in my heart with compassion, I could not truly just love strangers and maybe he was setting the bar too high for Christians. Paul took me to a busy, family owned mexican restaurant and boy do I love buretto's. When we got back home I said goodnight and departed for bed. The next morning I was awoken to the coffee aroma and egg and gammon sizzling on the stove, Pat cooked a mean breakfast which I wolfed down followed by the Latte Paul made.
After lunch at Paul's friends house Rick, a retired accountant, Paul took me about 15 miles over the bridge to Virginia Beach where we said our goodbye's knowing we would possibly see each other again. I took Paul aback as I prayed "Lord get him" and then made my quick exit before he could say a word.
Pat preparing breakfast.
One of the aircraft carriers, apparently this naval base could berth as many as 7 of these aircraft carriers at any one time.
RSS Feed
