Ferdinand Magellan and the Glorious Bicycle Undertaking!

Above: Admiral Ferdinand Magellan and the Glorious Bicycle Undertaking! Señor Pompa de Buen Aire (Señor Pumpy of Good Air, Mr Pumpy's Great Grandfather x 21) was official ship's cyclist, charged with taking bicycles to the world.

In 1522, Ferdinand Magellan was credited as the first person to circumnavigate the world.

At the time, Spain was in competition with Portugal for the lucrative Spice Trade. The aim of Magellan's voyage, financed by King Carlos 1, was to find a western route through to the Spice Islands, and gain the upper hand for Spain.

However, the voyage had a second, and more important mission, led by Señor Pompa de Buen Aire: to take bicycles to all the peoples of the world for the good of humanity. 

This glorious undertaking was to be lost to history, until now.

Five ships and 227 men left Spain in 1519. They sailed south into uncharted waters along the eastern seaboard of South America, stopping in modern day Rio de Janeiro a couple of months later for some R & R. In Rio, things karaoke got a little out of hand, and the crew handed out a few too many bicycles to their new best friends, which had an impact on events later on. 

Sailing further south, they eventually discovered a route (Straight of Magellan) through to the Pacific Ocean, which Magellan named. 

Four months later in the Philippines, having run out of bicycles to give away, Ferdinand Magellan lost his life in a skirmish with the Lapu-Lapu people, the true story of which has never been told.

The fleet then sailed on to the Spice Islands, where it blundered around for a few more months, before only the Victoria made it back to Spain. She carried just 22 men, one of whom was Señor Pompa de Buen Aire.

Along the way, Magellan's ship's log was lost (possibly taken by the Portuguese who attacked the fleet near Timor), and with it, the Glorious Bicycle Undertaking was lost to history.

Now the story can be told....

Above: Cádiz, Spain, 1519. Señor Pompa prepares for the long voyage around the world, and gets some last minute instructions from the king.

Above: A 16th Century Spanish engraving depicting the landing of the fleet in (modern day) Magallanes, at the mouth of Liberty River (modern day Agusan River) in northern Mindanao. It reads, 'Señor Pumpy of Good Air, cyclist in the fleet of Admiral Ferdinand Magellan, presents a bicycle to Rajah Siago of Butuan in the Philippines, 8 April 1521'. 

Above: Felix and Mr Pumpy visit modern day Magallanes in 2016, and Mr Pumpy explains where the history books are wrong.

Above: An artist's impression of what really happened to uncle Ferdinand Magellan.

Señor Pompa, riding the one remaining bicycle, managed to high-tale it in low gear to the other side of the island, where he was picked up by the fleet, and whisked to safety.

He eventually returned to Spain on the Victoria, where he married Miss Lolita Maricruz Ascensión de Borbon, niece of uncle Ferdinand (on his wife's side), and had many bike-riding children.

Note: Next stop, Cebu City and the end of the ride!

Butuan: The Empty City

New Year’s Eve in Butuan was total fucking madness. 

By 6 PM there were enough vuvuzelas, firecrackers and skyrockets going off to launch a full-scale ground assault on South Africa. Shock & Awe Pilipino style, Springboks!

Figuring that discretion was the better part of valour, I retreated to the hotel at 8 PM and bolted myself inside my room, like you would a pet dog. Now, lying back on the bed, I could safely watch the rolling global insanity on the teev, albeit from the dodgy end of town. I wonder if the hotel has a fire extinguisher? Sometime after the fireworks didn’t go off on the Eiffel Tower I drifted off to sleep.

The next morning, New Year’s Day, I rolled out of the hotel in search of coffee. My Sweet Lord! The city was deserted. I cycled cautiously towards the centre of town, along street after street, nary a soul to be seen. It was seriously disconcerting; an Asian city with nobody in it. Where did they go? Attack of the Zombies? The End of Days?

The silence was liberating, but the experience of riding in an empty Asian urban space, surreal. I could look about and take things in; old wooden buildings, the slant of the sun across rusting roofs, and the changing colour of the road surface. I had time to read the barber shop signs! I felt like a child again, no longer negotiating the onslaught of everyday life. But was there a Babadook lurking? It's Asia, and things can creep up on you.

By the town square, across the road from the cathedral, there were just two shops open; Dunkin’ (The Great Satan) Donuts and four doors down, McSatans. (Now, what is a cyclist to make of this curiosity? Are the Americans up to something, again?) 

Could be, but wars and rumours of wars howling in the wind, and life goes on, read: coffee.

Choices, choices... 

Nobody was in McSatans, so I locked the bike up and trotted into Dunkin’ (TGS) Donuts to join the other half-a-dozen people left on Gaia. I figured it was best to stick with the herd at a time like this.

The happy young folk behind the counter were still taking money, which I took as a good sign, so I ordered a coffee, and lashed out on a chocolate donut with nuts. No point skimping if this was to be the Last Day, or something else equally puzzling.