Today finds me munching hot toast and homemade loganberry jam, in the middle of a bit of a mess of gear that appears to have taken over the floor of my room in the night. Getting up in the dark last night meant negotiating my way around tyres, cameras, guidebooks and the various clutter of a bike expedition.

Happily, the bronchitis has been knocked into line by some serious antibiotics. But my trusty little minidisc player (for recording those interviews) has decided that while it's perfectly happy to play my music, it's not up to recording any more than short bursts. A bit of a fiddle with the recording head improved things slightly but it's with sadness I report it's been relegated to a stay-at-home.

Home handyman powers are still intact with the successful conversion of a battery charger to 12V power, and now we just need that solar panel to arrive on the doorstep. It really is quite nice to have a postal van come up to your door each day with an exciting parcel. It also helps to forget that each parcel comes with an equally exciting drop in the bank account!

I'm forgetting the biggest news of all: The Bike has been named. Thanks goes to Nice Nicole, who came up with a suggestion from, I think, somewhere in Europe (I've really no idea where she is. Last I heard she was off to Jordan, but that was a while ago). She reckoned, what with the inclusion of my name (I secretly like spelling my name Nik), the into the unknown connotations and seeing as it means traveller to boot, that SPUTNIK would be grand. I think so too. I shall call this bike...SPUTNIK

Naming ceremony? Well. The pedal-off is this Sunday. (8am: on the summit of Mount Wellington if you're keen. Bring the woollies and a cup of tea!) If we can defrost a bottle of champers and clonk it on the frame that'd do the trick. Or perhaps we should just dribble a bit over and drink the rest. I'll be wobbling my way down that hill.

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