I rode New Zealand's human-powered monorail – here's what it was like

Bryn Reade on the Schweeb
Bryn Reade on the Schweeb

Well, it seemed like a good idea at the time. Who would pass up on the opportunity to give an old university mate a hiding (in the spirit of friendly competition) pedalling enclosed, in an aerodynamic Perspex bubble, suspended from a monorail? Thinking about it, that’s probably what crossed Eli’s mind when I suggested to him that we meet at Rotorua’s Velocity Valley for a duel on the Shweeb Racer.

Emerging stiff-legged after a two-and-a-half hour drive on the road south from Auckland, I found my confidence reduced. Eli is a “Rotovegas” local and arrived looking altogether too fresh and lively and with a mountain bike in the back of his pickup. My confidence dwindled some more.

The Schweeb concept in a city
The Schweeb concept in a city

Somehow last night’s pinot noir and the morning’s espresso and banana-for-the-road had failed to find ­equilibrium. Still, at least I didn’t have to balance on anything: the Shweeb is based on a recumbent cycle design – one of those reclined slightly bonkers-looking bicycle contraptions – and, since it dangles from its rail, you can’t fall off. I asked attendants Harley and Lela if anyone had ever been sick inside one. They said that they hadn’t.

As I was being fitted into my pod – the seats slide forward for short-legged Shweebers – I asked Lela if there was some way she could make sure I would win. She pointed to a button on the overhead handlebars and said, “Press that for pedal assist.” I looked across to check Eli hadn’t heard. Harley and Lela closed and fastened the side doors and then, with a “three-two-one”, a controlled shove and a shout of “pedal, pedal, pedal!”, we were off.

Bryn with his time
Bryn with his time

Eli must have been given a bigger push because he established an early lead. At the first incline I pushed the hyperspace button and… nothing happened, or not so far as I could tell. Crikey, it was a lot louder than I thought it was going to be too. The Shweeb certainly looks the “eco-topia” part, but the experience of ­racing it is more vintage fighter aircraft than low-friction, sci-fi swoosh: it’s all rattling rivets and adrenalin. We were booting along – in this reclined position the pedal action is a powerful leg-press as you brace against the seat – and our pods swung out satisfyingly on the bends. But it was soon clear that my position of honourable-second-out-of-two was not going to change. Indeed, as Eli continued to extend his lead through the second lap I wondered if I might spoil the Shweeb’s unblemished record on the final third. But I retained my breakfast.

The Shweeb is the brainchild of New Zealand-based Australian Geoff Barnett, a keen cyclist who got the idea after cycling in Tokyo. He was interested in sustainable transport and designed the Shweeb as a healthy, safe and environmentally friendly solution to urban congestion.

Travel on Trial Schweed
Travel on Trial Schweed

Just over 10 years ago, Google gave Barnett $1 million (then around £630,000) to spend on research and development, which he duly did. As is often the way, the inventor, with too much invested in the ­project, was not the best person to take the Shweeb to market. Barnett ran out of money. But interest has never faded and the good news is that the first ­offshore Shweeb Racer pods will be whizzing around their track in Korea by the middle of 2021.

I had another go after Eli had departed with his smugness: firstly to see if I could beat his lap time of one minute and 15 seconds (I couldn’t), but also to pedal a few cruise laps. Now this was more like it: the pod moves along at a respectable pace with virtually no effort; it’s quieter; you can look around and enjoy the season; there’s no risk from surrounding heavy duty vehicles.

I wanted to go further: out of Velocity Valley, around the lake, between the rocks, through the woods. Imagine one along the Auckland waterfront! A young brother and sister team ­followed me, their eyes lit with the excitement that the appearance of the pods inspire. “How was it, kids?” I asked them after their race. “Awesome!” they shouted. Rolled out around a city centre, it truly would be.

A single, three-lap race on the Shweeb Racer is priced at NZ$55 (£29) per person; a six-ride family pass costs NZ$209 with the mix’n’match choice of Shweeb Racer, Agrojet jet-boat sprint, Swoop, Freefall Xtreme and Bungee. Emirates flies to New Zealand from the UK via Dubai from £1,257 return; Air New Zealand flies to Rotorua from Auckland and Wellington for £25. At time of publishing, overseas holidays were subject to restrictions; check the relevant guidance before booking and travelling.