Hashtag Canberra

This afternoon, I decided to go for a ride around Lake Burley Griffin. The Lawyer told me it was only 7 k’s around. Sweet, easy, I thought. I put on my overall shorts, exposing my poor pins for the first time since January [1], hence blinding several unsuspecting people who forgot to wear sunglasses.


My troubles started when I tried to find the lake. I mean, it’s Canberra. How can you not find the lake? I ended up riding aimlessly around ANU. Finally I found a little path that led to the lake.

And then it was smooth cruising. There were heaps of bike yuppies and families out and about, and plenty of drinking fountains and signs pointing to cafes. Some families were pedaling about in quad pushbikes with little roofs. So cute. I saw a little Anna-dog [2] and was all annnnyyyyaaaaa [3]!

Look at this cute family having a picnic!

Look at this cute family having a picnic!

I kept riding, past an old-school caravan set up as a cafe-van, past a bridge that kind of looked like it could connect the loop, but I just thought, no, I’ll keep going around the lake until I run out of lake.


Then: Cows. Paddocks. I’m pretty sure Canberra is the only capital city with cows wandering around mere kilometres from the city centre. But there were still yuppie cyclists so I kept going. Then I was on what looked like a tributary. What the heck? Lakes don’t have tributaries, right? Next: “Airport: 1”. And the bike path ran out.

To the left: Highway

To the left: Highway. Car.

To the right: Paddocks. Cows (not pictured).

To the right: Paddocks. Cows.

So that is the story of how I almost accidentally rode to the airport. I still can’t work out whether this is an “Oh Canberra” story or an “Oh Emmeline” story. Anyway, at that point I gave up the idea of finding a circuit way around, and just turned back the way I came. I had been out for almost an hour and I was getting kind of hungry and tired. So I pumped the pedals towards the cafe-van, and found it right where I left it.


I parked my bike on the grass and waited in line, watching my bike to make sure no-one stole it [4], but also surreptitiously checking out the hipster dudes who were sitting there. Although to be honest, I was really checking out their dog. He was an energetic type, and they were too cool to pay it proper attention. I just wanted to cuddle the poor attention-starved dog.


Attention-starved doggie on left.

I got a latte, which was a mistake, because the milk curdled in my stomach on the way home. I rode over a footbridge following a sign that said NewActon and from there it was easy to get home, via Marcus Clarke Street and up the bikepath.

Oh Canberra. You’re not so bad after all.


<a name=”f1″></a>1In January I went to Arnhem Land, where modesty conventions mean skirts below the knee are appropriate. Then when I came back down South, it was the middle of winter. Today was the first Spring-like day in Canberra.

<a name=”f2″></a>2My family used to have a cocker spaniel crossed poodle called Anna. She died a few years ago. So now all dogs who look like that are called Anna-dogs. Makes me sad.

<a name=”f3″></a>3“Cute”.

<a name=”f4″></a>4I forgot my bike lock key.


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