A wheeley, wheeley bad day. Almost as bad as that pun, in fact...

So far, my experience of cycling has been a few long rides out into the marshes of the infamously flat Ile de Re and a 10-minute adrenaline charged daily ride to work in London. I thought I had a good idea what cycling was from that, and until today, I thought I had a pretty good idea what a mountain bike was for.

I hadn't.

I should have known that the day was going to be a bad one when Krusty stormed in saying, "come on, get up, we're going to be late!" When I asked him what we were late for, he informed me that we were going to be joining his colleague as he went over to Lantau Island to do some cycling. This was the first I had heard about this plan, it seemed, until Krusty reminded me that in an elan of self-belief the previous night, after a few glasses of absinthe, I had indeed suggested that we join him on his trip. That's absinthe added to the increasingly long list of alcohols I will never drink again, then.

So we caught the ferry to Mui Wo and rented some bikes. Some mountain bikes. The trail started really nicely, and I started to get my cycling legs back. 10 minutes later, we were at the bottom of a flight of stairs, with the increasingly worrying colleague saying, "and now we carry our bikes up." It was midday, we hadn't had any lunch, it was a white migraine-inducing day of 30 degrees with 110% humidity, the stairs were steeper than those that usually make me look for the escalators, and I was supposed to carry my bike?! I assumed this was just to get to the trail so I (sort of) happily lifted it up and skipped (yeah right, I mean slugged) up the steps.

The trail began nicely, we learned how to climb over rocks and then ride down them, gradually gaining confidence and having more fun. Two hours later we were at a tiny village near a reservoir, thinking that this was actually worth it. And also secretly thinking "yes, that will do nicely, now where's the nearest restaurant?" But no, we had only come one third of the way, we were told. There was no turning back really, and only more of the same to come, only with a "little more of a workout" as described by the man who thought that the crazy all-terrain course we had just done was actually just a warm up. It was like being taken to the top of a piste noire in the Alps, without actually knowing how to ski. Or as if someone had invited us for a light jog only to tell us half way through that we were actually running a marathon and could not turn back.

But hey, we're not the kind of people who give up (and to be honest when you are at the top of a mountain surrounded by mosquitoes with a rocky path behind you, you don't really have the option anyway), so on we went.

Of course, the more tired I got the more scared I got, and the more scared I got the more tense I was, until it was almost impossible for me to do anything right. The boys had trailed ahead as I slowly made my way between ravine and boulders, and then it happened. I was going at a snail's pace, but still, as if in slow motion, I fell over the front of my bike, ripping my trousers and scraping my arms and legs. As I shouted out in pain, I heard Krusty shout too... Was he making fun of me? I finally caught up to find out that he had fallen over at exactly the same moment as me. Even in the direst situation and without even seeing me, he still manages to be romantic, bless him.

There was of course no short cut to the nearest chemist, so on we went again. By this time some vessel must have popped in my head because my brain felt like a shriveled prune, my temples were pumping and my headache was so bad that my eyes kept closing, blocking my vision of the very present obstacles in front of me. I felt like I was going to throw up, I was crying, and yet here was this guy telling me I could "do it". And the last thing I wanted on top of all my pain was to lose face and look like a sissy. Although at the next set of steps I did let him take a bit of weight off me, watching him run up like a mountain goat with one bike on each shoulder...

At least I was colour-coordinated with my pain, my red trousers picking up the tint of my grazed knee quite nicely, providing an accent of colour to remind the purple tones of my face. Fashion forever.

So we finally arrived at Pui O beach, Krusty exhausted, me crying my eyes out and the colleague all spritely suggesting we cycle back because he didn't feel like he had had enough of a workout (I had kept him from shooting off, poor guy). We did see some stunning scenes, though, which almost made me forget the suffering. There were more butterflies than I have ever encountered in the wild, tranquil waters with just the sound of cicadas, no jackhammers, and a rock at the top overlooking an abandoned beach...

It was on this rock that I asked the colleague where he got the scar on his back from. Turns out, this guy who climbs mountains as if he were on a conveyor belt was born with a condition that meant that he had to have one of his lungs removed at the age of 20. He was running on half the lung capacity we had!

Back at the ferry, we got some Tiger Balm to rub on our booboos. It felt great and, following the instructions to rub it wherever it hurts, I started massaging my temples with it. Until some got into my eye... As if I hadn't had enough pain already, I effectively managed to mace myself, making it impossible to see anything for the next 20 minutes. I told you; I had a feeling when I woke up that this was a day I would have been better off spending in bed...

But at least I had my pride. I had finished, after all. I hadn't been a 'girl' and told them to carry me and my bike home. I had soldiered on, with blood running down my legs and pumping in my brain. I was just as good as the colleague, really.

That's when he told us, casually, that he had actually been out the night before until 7am, having effectively had only 3 and a 1/2 hours' sleep.

Next time Krusty wakes me up to tell me that his bionic colleague with one lung has been out partying and wants to go cycling, I'll know what to say: "It's OK I already have the photos of that part of Hong Kong, let's go and visit one of the cinemas, instead"...