Pushing the bicycles slowly up the track, we entered a tiny farmyard, to be greeted by one large dog of the barking and biting variety. Pump at hand, I searched for someone to set us on the right track, and found a camping couple, hanging out the morning’s washing. ‘Oh yes,’ the girl said, ‘You can get over fairly easily. Just keep to the left of the white posts.’ What she did not realize was that we were cyclists, not hikers, and when we wheeled our machines past the tent, she gazed on, astonished..