Biblio Turismo: National Library

On leaving this library and racing to the National Library for another meeting with the press we saw two bikes race by us. It turned out to be the Griffith mob.

Brian in deep thought, I love my Aprilla.....

Pam, wow from Griffith to Canberra in only 2 hours, wonder how fast we were going?

We accelerated, but they caught up to us anyway at the steps of the big library. It was good to see them again. A child’s wedding interrupted last year’s attendance. Poor excuse I thought.

And one was there, a stripling on a small and weedy bike,
Her bike was something like a racehorse undersized,
With a touch of Timor pony - three parts thoroughbred at least -
And such as are by mountain bikers prized.
Pam was hard and tough and wiry - just the sorts that won't say die -
There was courage in her quick impatient tread;
And she bore the badge of gameness in her bright and fiery eye,
And the proud and lofty carriage of her head.
But still so slight and beautiful, one would doubt her power to stay,
And the old man said, "That bike will never do
For a long a tiring ride - girl, you'd better stop away,
Those hills are far too rough for such as you."
So Pam waited sad and wistful - only Brian stood her friend -
"I think we ought to let her come," he said;
"I warrant she'll be with us when she's wanted at the end,
For both her bike and she are Dolomite mountains bred.

I got a phone call from Leon, his stead had thrown a hoof and he was waiting for a tow, he wanted to know if we could help. Being the considerate bikers and understanding and compassionate colleagues I discussed his predicament with the other six. The sun was shining, we had an appointment to meet, and Leon was left to fend for himself.

The National Library was amazing and after lots of photos and an interview by another gorgeous journo a local lady librarian on a fast bike led us out of town to out of space.