It is a beautiful day without a breath of wind; a great day to be cycling. But my adventure is almost over and then it will be back to normality. Get up, go to work, come home, go to sleep.

A completely different cycle to the one I have enjoyed for the past three weeks and not one I particularly feel like joining but I need the money that a job provides.

Between camp and Murray Bridge there a few hills to get the heart pumping, but down a cog, switch off the brain and they are surmountable with a little effort.

Stopping to admire the view of the two bridges over the Murray, I have paused the Garmin Edge 1000 so that it doesn’t take this downtime into account when tabling the day’s statistics, only to find that it won’t turn on again.

This happened to me back near Boundary Bend as well and again I find myself lost without that little screen measuring off the kilometres as we go our separate ways. No matter how hard I try not to, I keep glancing down to see if it has come on again only to be disappointed over and over again.

In fact, it remains on holiday for the rest of the day. Perhaps in its own small way, it is making known its disappointed at the pending end.

It’s OK ‘G’, I will miss you as well my friend.

A short ride around the waterfront, buy a new card for the GoPro and top up the water bottles ticked off the to-do list and it is south on the Wellington Road I go; Wellington and somewhere beyond my two goals for the day.

In true Dr Doolittle style, I stop to chat with a horse at Woods Point but he is more interested in chewing the map case so we don’t become new best friends. Lunch is a steak and two pints at the Wellington Hotel and then feeling a little merrier, I become a bright yellow dot on the blistering hot black top that leads towards Strathalbyn.

Perhaps the second beer was not a great idea for 31 kilometres to the turnoff to Milang is pure hell.

Not only is it as boring as bat shite, but the heat is wearing me down and the headwind is back with a vengeance.

The last 16 kilometres to Milang seems to take an eternity but I do arrive, just only after the office has closed.

What do I do now?

A phone call provides a key and an honour system payment gets me somewhere to pitch my tent, a hot shower and a chance to enjoy the last light of day that is casting its cheers across a darkening sky.

Tomorrow I only have 40 kilometres or so to reach Goolwa and the friends who hopefully will be there to give me a lift back to Adelaide.

I am beat.

Time to sleep.