Spend the best part of 19 months constantly riding a bicycle.

Then spend 6 weeks in the same place.

Unsurprisingly, after all that time I was ready to get back on the road - and I was also lucky enough to have some company.

I had first met Kat in Whitehorse, Yukon where she had been working over the summer herding goats - she had then contacted me over Christmas saying that her Canadian Visa was about to expire and if I fancied having some company for the ride down to Mexico before she flies back to Sweden in February.

Never one to turn down company, we were in luck as my friends at CBO were able to help sort out a bike for free and within 48 hours of Kat arriving in Cambria with just a backpack, we had managed to ser her up with a bike, racks, helmet, lights and panniers and just like that a new cycle tourist was born.

The final night at the farm was spent partaking in a custom I have tried to offer all of my hosts over the past 2 years - with me showing my appreciation to them by cooking a meal. An experimental steak and Guinness pie followed by a tangerine cheesecake proved a surprising success before the next morning it was finally time to get back on the bikes and head off south to San Diego, and further afield, Mexico.

I know Beth and George, owners of Dos Pasos Ranch, because I met their son Scott in Laos last Christmas. We had had a chance meeting in a bar on Christmas Day, got along and he had flipped a remark that if I ever needed work or a place to stay in Cambria I was more than welcome at his parents. I don't know if they were expecting me to spend the best part of 2 months with them, but I appreciated every minute.

I am particularly glad I met George as to be quite honest, from the people I've met in the States, the Republicans really haven't been the kind of people I can get along with easily. So to meet George, an articulate, intelligent and open-minded Republican, really was a breath of fresh air.

Saying goodbye to the farm, it had been a good home to me for the 2 months I spent here.

We said our goodbyes and were on the road, a new year having begun, but the 25 degree January sun still beaming down. I was never really worried about Kat struggling with cycle touring - although I didn't really know her I knew she was an outdoorsy type and at 6 foot 1 without much luggage I was sure she'd be fine - it soon became apparent that the problem wouldn't be her keeping going, but me keeping up with her.

The first day flew by and before we knew it, it was time to set up camp. Throughout the ride down the West Coast when I've had company I've always tried to stay in State Parks, as for $5 a night 'hiker-biker' rate you get a proper campsite, a shower and the knowledge that talking won't get you kicked out of your intended sleeping destination, so the money really is worth it. However, arriving in the 5 Cities Area we soon found out that the first State Park that we thought had the Hiker-Biker camping no longer existed, due to the budget cuts. (Quick side note - Californias financial mess is well known and with the budget deficit in the billions, as opposed to doing something that will actually help, such as reducing prison numbers for petty  crimes and non-violent offenders, one of the measures introduced has been to raise hiker-biker camp fees from $3 to $5 - good luck raising those billions chaps...)

So we now needed somewhere else to stay. Despite the campsite we had shown up at being just 3 miles north of the next State Park, the host had no idea if the next site down at Oceano Dunes had the hiker-biker camping we were looking for. With little choice we headed down only to find out it didn't have what we needed, but what we did see was people heading to the beach to camp.

We went to investigate. For $10 a truck full of people could sleep on the State Beach.

Could us 2 with our bicycles sleep on the beach?

No.

'The part of the beach where you're allowed to camp is 3 miles down, you can't get your bikes down there'.

'Sure we can, we can ride on the wet sand'

'No, you can't.'

'Well can we put our bikes in the back of a truck which is headed down to camp and get down there that way?'

'No'

'Why not?'

'We are only allowed registered vehicles on the beach. Without a registration number or license plate you can't come on the beach'

'But if we get in a truck we'll have that license plate'

'You're not staying on the beach. Look, it's $10 per vehicle. You have 2 bikes, we would have to register both and it would cost you $20. If you look a few hundred yards behind you then that campsite is $25. Go stay there'

If we had been talking to a privately owned company, or perhaps even if we'd been asking for something unreasonable, this could have been acceptable - unfortunately this was a State Employee and neither of us could understand her problem with us camping at, well, a State run campground.

Remaining patient we took a couple of steps back, took a deep breath, conferred and Kat (cheers for that) sent me back in to speak to the woman who by this point clearly hated us.

'Look, we really don't understand the problem with us staying down there - we're just two cyclists who need a place to stay and it's getting dark. Is there not anyone you can call to see if it's ok for us to stay down there?'

'Ok' she said with obvious disdain.

She turned around and picked up her phone. Seeing I was going to listen to the conversation she then not only shut the door through which I was talking to her through, but closed all windows as well.

She did not want us to hear this conversation.

She was on the phone for 5 minutes, arguing with someone before coming out looking utterly defeated.

'I spoke with the camp warden, he's happy to let you stay. $5 each but we need to register your bikes. I need the serial numbers for your bikes before I can let you on site'

Trying not to laugh in her face at her humiliating defeat Kat and I walked the 20 yards to our bikes, wrote down 2 random 10-digit numbers (I know my serial numbers on the bike somewhere, but I'll be darned if I was going to find it) and watched as she then copied down every single detail.

After we'd given her the money we rode off down the beach to camp, still with her eyes glaring at the back of our heads as we headed along the beach.

A really bizarre experience and why she hated us so much, I'm still not really sure.



    I mean come on - who would want to stop people riding on the beach at sunset in conditions like these

The next day we were off and out again, more beautiful weather, more beautiful riding and more of me trying to keep up with Kat.

The next night was spent in a truck rest stop, before the following day we arrived in Santa Barbara to stay with our contacts Monique and Antonio. In Cambria I had met Michelle (she was in the last blog - married to Tom from the cycling/frisbee golf bets) and Monique was her daughter. Her and her husband had been kind enough to offer us a place to stay.

Two great people, Antonio, Moniques' husband was especially interesting to meet as he had previously been a professional football player. I'd never met a pro-footballer properly before, so meeting a guy who had played 6 years in Mexicos top flight for Puebla really was a treat.

He showed us his scrapbook from his playing days, the players he'd played with, the stadiums he'd played in and to be fair, I was in awe.

As I say, despite having a QPR season ticket for 12 years (insert your own joke here) I'd never met someone who'd played pro and I think one of the things that struck me was that from his scrapbook was that the games that clearly  ment the most to him weren't winning against average or worse teams, it was the 0-0 draws away at the top clubs, at the biggest stadiums - the biggest achievements were going to these places and coming back with something.

Both he and Monique were also thoroughly great people to boot and the weekend was spent learning how to play Mexican card games (Monique summed up the logic I'll come across in Mexico by showing me that Mexican playing cards down have 8's or 9's in the deck), being given a crash course in Mexican cuisine and by also Antonio introducing us to another Mexican tradition - Tequila!

I had to get this picture - Antonio, a former professional, donning the Hoops. He kindly gave me his AC Milan shirt.

We left on the Sunday morning and as the team Antonio currently plays for had a game on our route, we stopped by to watch his current team play. Unfortunately they lost 3-2 but at least we saw Antonio score and after saying goodbyes we were off on the way to Ventura - where we were to stay with Moniques son - the 3rd generation of the same family!

The following day we arrived in Los Angeles - by far and away the worst city I have ever had the misfortune to ride a bicycle in: no bikes lanes, no public transport and a whole lot of car/truck worship provide a truly souless city and I had to think back to some of the places I'd visited in China to find a place with as little soul or vibe as Los Angeles.

Kat enters LA - a good picture but not a particularly great city.

I spent my time here doing a few things I should have done a long time ago before Kat and I headed south to San Diego and onward to Mexico.

Another days riding, another days sun and we were due to arrive in San Diego on the Saturday morning. However, en route to San Diego we stopped at a set of traffic lights and met 4 cyclists out on a morning ride. After a brief chat we found out it was one of their 30th birthdays and that they were having a party, and that if we wanted a few beers and some food we should come to their party.

Well this was a no brainer!

The party was a great occasion with some truly great people who welcomed us into their homes, none more so than Pancho, one of the riders we'd met who, when he found out where we were heading, had told us he was from Baja and went out of his way to organise us places to stay on the ride down and also mentioned about the possibility of me spending Mardi Gras with his friends in Mazatlan in early February.

Not a bad way to spend the day and Tim, the birthday boy, let us camp on his lawn that night before we arrived in San Diego the next morning.

Where are we staying in San Diego? With Michelles mother (Moniques grandmother) - the 4th generation of the same family we have now stayed with!

San Diego marks an end to an era for me, as it's the last place on the route until I return to Istanbul in Autumn 2011 that I will have been to before. In July I flew from Tokyo to Los Angeles, and in the previous weeks I had visited San Diego with my parents - so now as we head into Mexico it really does feel like the adventure is about to begin again and I'm headed to pastures new.

Personally, I can't wait.