Saturday 8 April 2017

CYCLE TOURINGS SOUTHEAST ASIA - KL TO BANGKOK - WITH JANICE

 


CYCLING SOUTH EAST ASIA 

Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia – Bangkok, Thailand
2 424 Km – 60 Days
7 February – 7 April 2017 


100 Malaysia (4) - 7 – 27 February 2017
101 Thailand (9) - 27 – 7 April 2017


 


MAP


  PHOTOS MALAYSIA



100 Malaysia (4)
7 February – 27 February
662 Kilometres – 20 Days

 

7 February - Dumai, Indonesia – Port Dickson, Malaysia (by boat)

After an excellent Indonesian breakfast, I cycled the few hundred metres to the ferry office. Although far too early, I biked to the harbour anyway, checked in and waited until the Port Dickson ferry departed at eleven. Sadly, the weather came in, and it became a rough ride over the Straits of Malacca. The ferry rocked and rolled and could as well have been called the “Pitch & Puke” as seasick bags were in high demand.

Our boat anchored in Malaysia at three p.m. but the hour time difference made it four p.m. The weather was stormy, causing poor visibility as I headed out in the direction of Kuala Lumpur. I didn’t get far until spotting the Grandpa Hotel and weakened at the thought of a dry and comfortable abode. I wasn’t going to make Peter’s place that day anyhow, and it made little difference whether I stayed here or further along. Walking to the Giant shopping mall made me feel like a kid in a candy store. I didn’t buy anything but merely feasted my eyes on all the luxury items.

 

8 February – Port Dickson – Puchong – 81 km

The room rate included breakfast consisting of fried rice topped with a fried egg accompanied by tea. It rained heavily during the night, and I was pleased to notice the rain had abated. I thus hurriedly hopped on the bike to cycle the eighty kilometres to Peter’s place on the outskirts of Kuala Lumpur.

The ride was pleasant on good roads (no potholes) through oil palm plantations and past the well-known Malaysian Grand Prix circuit. I passed fruit stalls and a massive solar farm. Well done, Malaysia. I somehow landed on a toll road and twice sneaked past toll booths without being spotted, making a quick and comfortable ride to Puchong.

It felt like arriving home and it was lovely to see the Yoong family again. Later, Peter and I picked Janice up from the airport. I was super excited as our planned cycle trip was finally becoming a reality. Janice spent the evening reassembling her bicycle and sorting out panniers.

All turned in early as the plan was to wake at two a.m. to head to the iconic Batu cave, Hindu temple, and shrine to observe the Thaipusam festival.

 

9 February - Puchong – Batu Cave

Peter escorted us to the 3-day Thaipusam festival. The Tamil community celebrates the festival on the full moon in the Tamil month of Thai (January/February).

It’s a bizarre, colourful and highly unusual religious festival. Thousands of devotees start their procession to the cave in the early morning, carrying milk pots as offerings and piercing their bodies with spikes. On arrival, almost all men had their heads shaven. Others walked in a trance-like state, bodies pierced by spikes and hooks, accompanied by frantic drumming up the stairs to the temple. The place was packed, and one could hardly move as hundreds of devotees made their way up the 272 stairs—what a fantastic experience.

 

10 February - Puchong

I went jogging, and it felt good as I haven’t run in a month. Returning, Peter was ready to go to the market. En route, we stopped at the Indian temple dedicated to the snake goddess Nagaswari Amman. It’s a temple like no other and by far the most impressive and beautiful temple. Afterwards, we’d a considerable breakfast spread as only the Chinese can arrange.

By evening, Peter, Alice, Janice and myself biked around Putrajaya lake, a delightful evening in a beautiful setting. Before returning home, we once again stopped for dinner.

 

11 February - Puchong

Janice and I got our things ready to leave the following day. We tested the bicycles by cycling to Tesco and grabbing a few things needed for our upcoming trip. The day turned out the last day of the Chinese New Year (a week-long festival), and Peter arranged a Hot Pot. He invited a bunch of fascinating people, including two cyclists from South Korea, Lina and Siew, and their Warmshowers host, Rose. Two British, travelling by motorbike also attended and Maggie, Alice’s cousin, Ginger, and her mother and my dear friend, Saras, whom I met a year ago, cycling Malaysia. What a great evening in good company and with delicious food.

 

12 February - Puchong - The Kabins - 50 km

Finally, Janice and I started our little adventure to Bangkok. Peter kindly accompanied us to The Kabins and led the way along secondary roads making pleasant riding, generally along smaller paths past the remanence of the Chinese New Year festival. Janice did exceptionally well on her first day, and we reached The Kabins early.

The Kabins made a luxury night following our first ride and provided a pleasant container-living experience. The Kabins consist of containers on top of one another around a lovely swimming pool. The establishment was luxurious and offered everything needed, including a fridge, a kettle, coffee, tea, plenty of electrical points, and air conditioning. Boiling, we wasted no time jumping in the pool. There’s nothing quite like having a large swimming pool all to yourself on a hot day. The rest of the evening was spent chatting on our little veranda.

 

13 February - The Kabins – Kuala Selangor – 25 km

Departing our fancy accommodation was at leisure and we ambled along the coast on what seemed a decent road. However, our path sadly petered out altogether, eventually requiring walking the bikes. Nevertheless, the ride was comfortable along a rural road through oil palm plantations as monkeys darted across our path.

When cycle touring, a considerable amount happens on any given day and it’s easy to forget all one saw. This day we encountered two weddings. The wedding outfits were exquisite, and I learned they don’t simply have one but change into different costumes two or three times. We passed creeks where fishing boats were lined up waiting to go to sea and temples where joss sticks burned slowly, sending their heavenly smell to the spirits.

We rolled into Kuala Selangor early and booked into the Melawati Hotel. Once settled in, a short walk took us up the historic hill of Bukit Malawati, which featured monkeys, cannons, and other bits and bobs. Bukit Malawati was the administrative centre and stronghold of the Selangor Sultanate in the late 18th and early 19th centuries. Built from 1782 to 1826, a heavily fortified fort once stood on the hill. The fort fell to the Dutch in 1784, but what makes this fort historical is that this was the first time a sultan recaptured a fort from a foreign power.

I didn’t feel well and returned to the room while Janice pedalled to the nearby nature park. Later, while grabbing something to eat, we ran into the Korean couple we met at Peter’s place and invited them to join us on our firefly trip. It turned out to be a great evening with thousands of fireflies. I didn’t think anyone expected to see quite as many.

 

14 February - Kuala Selangor – Sungai Besar – 60 km

From Kuala Selangor, we proceeded along a coastal route past tons of oil palm fruits and iguanas lazing in the sun. We passed small fishing communities where fishing boats lay 4-deep, waiting until the tide came in.

The day turned out frustrating as Janice had a puncture, generally not a problem, but this wasn’t your regular flat tyre as the hole was on the inside of the tube, meaning on the rim side. This type of puncture can only be caused by the rough edges of spoke-holes or spokes working through the rim into the tube. We tried filing the edges, taped them up and replaced the tube. It all lasted no more than 200 meters before the tyre went flat. We repeated the process, and this time it lasted.

We continued to Pantai Redang, where a colourful wishing tree got our attention. To make a wish, one is supposed to buy ribbons from the temple and throw them into the tree making a wish. I don’t know if our lack of following suit caused our bad luck, but Janice again had a flat tyre shortly past Redang. This time none of our patches stuck, and after trying 4 or 5 times, our patches ran out. There wasn’t much more to do but grab the wheel and head to the nearest motorbike repair shop. Mercifully, they had a new bicycle tube, and in no time at all, we were on our way. This time the tube held to Sungai Besar, where we met Raja, a friendly guy and avid cyclist. He showed us to a hotel and bought us a meal and a drink. He even drove us to the bike shop to purchase rim-tape, patches and new glue—how immensely kind of him.

 

15 February - Sungai Besar – Melintang Hotel - 50 km

Raja waited outside the hotel as he wanted to film us cycling and we made our way along farm roads, as has become the norm. We’d a great deal of fun as Raja tried shooting a video. We met Wim and Monique from the Netherlands having a coconut shake, cycling in the opposite direction. They’ve been cycling in Southeast Asia the past 17 years. Each year, they returned for a two-month cycle ride. Raja left us and accompanied them to Sungai Besar.

Janice and I made our way through coconut palm plantations, often stopping to inspect what we deemed interesting, one being the Kapok tree. Its fluffy seed pods are typically used as mattress stuffing, pillows, and soft toys. In Trinidad and Tobago’s folklore, the story goes: a carpenter carved seven rooms in a Kapok tree and then tricked the devil (or demon of death by the name of Bazil) into entering and then locked him in the tree. People believe he still lives in the tree.

Our rural path abruptly ended at a river; fortunately, a ferry carted people across, and we could load the bicycles. Shortly beyond the river, a conveniently situated hotel left 70 kilometres to Lumut the following day, making it a perfect overnight stop.

 

16 February — Melintang Hotel — Pangkor Island — 74 km

We resumed our ride along the main road as I didn’t want to meander too much, seeing this would be Janice’s longest day of cycling since leaving Kuala Lumpur. I anticipated a dull day, but it turned out, one more pleasant day of riding in hot but perfect weather.

The road led across a multitude of rivers, from small streams to wide ones large enough to accommodate massive ships. We passed Chinese temples and Hindu shrines and nibbled on snacks from roadside vendors. Most fascinating was a bird seller who showed us a curly-feathered pigeon—how odd.

Before Lumut, we popped into a camera store, where Janice bought herself an 18-200mm lens, ideal when travelling. In Lumut, a ferry took us to Pangkor island, where the Sea View Inn made perfect overnighting. The place was right on the beach, and we paid for two nights, giving us a well-deserved day of leisure.

 

17 February - Pangkor Island

We emerged to a beautiful morning, and I donned my running shoes to jog along the coast. Afterwards, I jumped in the pool before sitting down to our complimentary breakfast. After that, we did the usual housekeeping and then hired a scooter to explore the island.

Our first stop was at the remains of an old Dutch Fort and a sacred rock. The rock sported an intriguing story. It’s said a Dutch dignitary’s child mysteriously disappeared during the Dutch occupation. Some spread rumours of a tiger attack. Others claimed angry Malays took the child to rid Pangkor of the Dutch. Carved into the rock is an image of a tiger with a child in its mouth (if you use your imagination). Also inscribed are a few symbols of the Dutch East India Company.

We rode around the island, which took barely two hours as it’s a small island measuring approximately eight kilometres. Though a well-known resort island, it remains a fishing hamlet where the primary income is still fishing or fishing-related. A further fascinating stop was at the blowfish man who made all kinds of things from dried blowfishes. He claimed the blowfishes were caught by accident in fishing traps and were already dead before using them in his art. He made hats, clocks, lampshades and all kinds of other ornaments.

 

18 February - Pangkor Island – Pantai Remis - 55 km

A short ride led to the ferry for our return trip to the mainland. Unfortunately, we’d a few technical problems which needed sorting out before getting underway.

We thus cycled to the camera store where Janice bought her lens and traded it for a different one as the one bought two days previously wasn’t 100% compatible with her camera. Afterwards, we searched for a mobile phone repair shop as Janice’s phone gave in. We couldn’t locate anyone to repair it, and in the end, it was best to buy a new one. The result was 15h00 on departing, but enough time to cycle to nearby Pantai Remis.

An easy ride across countless rivers took us past ever-present spirit houses and shrines. We stopped to drink sugarcane juice, watched a lady make curry puffs, and bought a few. Digs at Pantai Hotel was our abode of choice. Later we walked out to the mobile carts, of which there were plenty and faced a whole array of options. Eventually, I settled for soup containing many ingredients, and Janice opted for a bag of fried goodies. The rest of the evening was spent setting up Janice’s new phone.

 

19 February - Pantai Remis – Taiping – 54 km

The previous night’s rain brought a pleasantly fresh and overcast morning. Our days started taking on a comfortable rhythm as we ambled along at leisure. We biked past familiar sights of dense palm plantations overgrown by moss and ferns, piles of coconut husks guarded by spirit houses, and past stands selling eats at dirt-low prices. We crossed a multitude of rivers and biked through areas dotted by mosques, making a pretty picture against a bright blue sky.

At tiny fishing “kampungs”, dogs barked, and roosters crowed, indicating their territory. Friendly residents called “hallos” from behind banana plants, all wanting to know where we’re from. Next, we stopped for refreshments at Trong Leisure Farm & Resort, a pleasant enough place to spend an hour or so. The resort sported chalets on the dam that looked good enough to spend a night. We, however, continued to Taiping, where we sought out the Casavilla Hotel. By evening, we took ourselves off to the zoo where, one could explore at night. It’s an unusual feeling walking around in the dark, listening to the chewing and snorting of animals.

 

20-22 February - Taiping – Penang - 90 km

We were up early in anticipation of a long day of biking. From Taiping to Butterworth, we followed the main road, which seldom makes exciting riding, but it was the shortest way to Penang. Janice barely ever stopped and kept a steady pace to Butterworth, where we boarded a ferry to the island of Penang.

The ride turned our Janice’s longest ride of our tour and she claimed her longest ride in the past ten years. Still, she did exceptionally well. The ferry docked in Penang around 15h00. Although Janice was dead tired, she still had the energy to walk around this UNESCO world heritage site famous for its street food and art. In the process, we ran into Lina and Jihoon, the two cyclists from South Korea. What a small world.

The following morning was spent organising visas to Thailand, doing laundry, and discovering Georgetown, all the time marvelling at its famous street art and its ensemble of historic architecture.

 

23 February - Penang – Pantai Merdeka – 43 km

We departed at leisure to board the ferry to the mainland and continued our quest north. At first, we had no option but to cycle along the main road. Still, we turned off onto a smaller path at the first opportunity, making far better riding. In one of the small settlements, we met an extremely welcoming Malaysian who invited us to tea. He’d been to South Africa, and we chatted about Cape Town and everything he saw and did there.

It started raining and albeit not cold, we were soaked to the bone and, therefore, had little chance of taking pictures or admiring the landscape. Reaching Pantai Merdeka, we weakened at the sight of the Pantai Merdeka Resort. However, we could dry our clothes, as the rain set in good and solid without any sign of subsiding. We’d a pleasant meal at the restaurant, and for once, Janice could order a ‘non-spicy meal, something virtually non-existent in this part of the world.

 

24 February - Pantai Merdeka – Langkawi – 80 km

After breakfast (included in the room rate), we rode to the waterfront to find a boat to take us across the river. Waiting, we watched kids playing games on the sand and befriended the village cats. Strangely enough, they all sported kinky tails; it must be a genetic thing.

Mercifully, a boat arrived and saved us cycling a long way around to find a bridge. Finally, we came upon a beautiful coastal path that ran past tiny fishing hamlets, farmlands, scrawny looking cows and lush forests, and vistas of beautiful mountains in the distance. Approximately 60 kilometres further, Kuala Kedah indicated the place from where ferries departed for Langkawi Island. A comfortable sail took us to Langkawi. Once there, we took the obligatory photo at the eagle and then pedalled the 22 kilometres to Cenang Beach.

Janice located a good spot, offering air-conditioning, a refrigerator, and a swimming pool. Then, although Janice was tired and sunburned, we walked to the beach on the hunt for a restaurant, of which there was no shortage on this touristy island.

 

25-26 February – Langkawi

Langkawi was swarming with tourists. Still, we spent the day on the island in the company of what felt like millions of visitors. We braved the crowds and joined a mangrove tour, which turned out more of a tourist trap than anything else. We were herded to a minivan and were driven, at breakneck speed, to the opposite side of the island. Once there, we were steered to a waiting boat and felt part of a tourist conveyor belt. The boat took off at high speed, and the beautiful panorama became one big blur as we sped past high cliffs and mangrove swamps. Eventually, we came to a halt at a cave. Still, various boats were lined up, but ultimately, our turn came. Then, off we went in a spray of water to the bat cave. We were given 30 minutes to look inside the crowded cave, and had to stretch our necks to see past the sea of heads. Again, we sped off, this time to a floating restaurant, where we were allowed 40 minutes to look at fish in a pond or order an expensive fish meal. By then, all laughed at how ridiculous the trip had become, but we’d to return before 13h00, as the next trip started at 14h00. I was sad the trip was rushed, as the area is stunning and blessed with clear blue/green water and stunning limestone karst scenery. Eagles soared above and monkeys played in the mangroves, and if I’d a canoe, I could easily have spent an entire day.

Packing up, Janice noticed a flat tyre and again, the puncture was on the rim side. Unfortunately, we couldn’t fix the puncture and bought a new tube instead. With all done, we opted for an extra night and what a good idea. We spent a relaxing day on the island, swam in the lukewarm ocean and, by evening, took a walk to the beach to watch the sunset.

 

101 Thailand (9)
27 February – 7 April 2017
1 762 Kilometres – 40 Days

 

27 February - Langkawi, Malaysia – Satun, Thailand – 35 km

From Langkawi, a ferry operated to Satun, Thailand. As the ferry only departed at 13h00, I went for a run followed by a dip in the pool before packing up. A quick and easy 22 kilometres led to the ferry terminal. Checking out of Malaysia was uncomplicated and an hour later, the ferry docked in Thailand. A hassle-free entry allowed us into our new country. From the pier, a 12-kilometre rain-soaked ride led to Satun. Once in town, the ATM spat out a few Thai Bhat, allowing the purchase of a Thai SIM and ensuring a room at the Pinnacle Wangmai Satun Hotel. Quite a name for such an ordinary hotel.

Satun’s night market offered a wide selection of food, from bugs to sushi, and thus something for even the pickiest eaters.

 

28 February - Satun – Pak Bara Beach – 78 km

Barely 10 kilometres away, a country lane veered off the main road. Luckily, Janice didn’t mind tagging along these rural paths and never complained about an extra kilometre or 10. The way led through rural communities where families lived in timber homes on stilts, ladies cooked on open fires and elderly folk swung in hammocks under stilted houses. We biked past trees heavy with jackfruit and past cows with long ears. Each property seemingly had a mango, avocado and frangipani tree, lending a tropical feel to the area. We pedalled through rubber tree plantations, where trees were planted in neat rows, making pretty pictures. Tiny eateries provided noodle soup and opportunities to strike up conversations with villagers. Finally, Pak Bara Beach indicated the end of our day’s ride. No time was wasted dipping our sweat-soaked bodies in the Andaman Sea.

 

1 March – Pak Bara Beach – Ban Thung Yao – 63 km

Our late departure was due to my morning jog. Our chosen path took us through farmlands, picturesque rubber tree farms and villages housing ornate temples. A secondary route made a relaxed cycle past iconic karst landscapes. The area was littered with caves, but too lazy to make lengthy detours, only the nearby ones were explored.

The caves investigated didn’t amount to much as the first was deserted and appeared access was only by boat. The second one was on the opposite side of a river, and we couldn’t find a suitable way across.

We ambled on, stopping at a pineapple vendor to have a snack. The lady peeled and cut so much that we could barely finish it. The word must’ve spread that foreigners were in their midst as more people arrived to observe this unusual event and children got unceremoniously dumped on our laps for photos. The village of Ban Thung Yao was reached at around 15h00 and sported an impressive hotel at a reasonable rate. However, the name should’ve forewarned us as the “Cupid Hotel,” not surprisingly, didn’t offer twin rooms.

We waited until sunset to meander to the market and, as can be expected, were a great novelty in this tiny settlement. We got plenty of stares and it seemed a rarity seeing foreign women in this part of the country as our actions were observed with great interest.

 

2 March - Ban Thung Yao – Trang – 56 km

Right from the word go, we were on rural roads, which provided a shady ride through rubber tree plantations. It was fascinating to watch them harvest the rubber, a milky substance dripping from grooves cut in the bark. Our first stop was at a coconut vendor offering young coconuts, full of water and thick flesh. Once done, we handed the coconut back to the vendor so he could hack it open for us to scoop out the meat inside.

The rest of the way was spent entertaining ourselves by making videos. People peeped through doors and windows as we rode past, and even the dogs ran for the safety of their homes, a sure sign that this was not an area frequented by foreigners.

Numerous red soda offerings adorned the majority of shrines. When land is cleared, I understand spirit houses are put up to house the displaced earth spirit. It isn’t a religious thing, but a custom. These spirits guard the land, and homes must be built for them, and offerings must be given. It’s what the Thais do, and red soda is the most popular offering.

Trang was reached in good time and sported the Yamaha hotel, which offered budget rooms. Finally, we’d our fill of Pad Thai Thailand’s most iconic dish consisting of stir-fried rice noodles served with chicken, beef or tofu, peanuts and scrambled egg.

 

3-4 March - Trang – Krabi – 130 km

En route to Krabi was past the ever-present stupas and temples. I’d no intention of going to Krabi as I considered it too far. However, Janice had other ideas and scarcely stopped. Following the main road, didn’t offer a great deal of sightseeing except for a few waterfalls. Still, we made our way past rural areas where people lived simple lives. All seemingly, owned a few chickens and a cow or two. Others were drying thin slivers of bamboo, which they used as rope.

I was proud of my friend for hanging in, never complaining, and sticking to the task at hand. Well done, Janice. One hundred and thirty kilometres on a loaded bicycle is a long way by anyone’s standards. After a shower and a visit to the night market, we returned to the comfort of our air-conditioned room.

An additional day was spent in Krabi, giving our legs a rest and enjoying all Krabi had to offer. A boat ride to nearby caves and around the mangrove swamps was a fun and relaxing way to while away a few hours. The fun part was the tide went out while exploring the mangroves, and only due to our boatman’s skills, we made it out of there.

 

5-6 March - Krabi – Ko Phi-Phi (by ferry)

Following my morning jog and a turn at the dim-sum restaurant, a short ride brought us to the Krabi-Phi Phi island ferry. In no time at all, we were transported to paradise, a trip sporting limestone karst pinnacles sticking out of azure blue waters. However, finding a reasonably priced abode in heaven was, slightly more complicated than getting there. Eventually, Sabai House was the best deal available on this lovely but touristy island. From the minute one stepped off the ferry, you were transported into a world of backpackers, party buckets, tattoo parlours and, “You want massaaaaage?”

Janice and I skipped both the party buckets and the massage. Instead, we proceeded straight to the beach where we rented a kayak and paddled around this beautiful bay a few hours before returning to our room to get ready for a night out.

The following day brought an early start to catch the 7h00 scuba boat. The dive was a two-tank dive and worth every cent. The water was lukewarm; the visibility excellent, offering an abundance of fish and swim-throughs. Arriving in Phi Phi, enough time remained to hop on another boat for a half-day snorkelling trip. Again, diving was a pleasure and the return trip at sunset a highlight.

 

7-8 March - Phi-Phi Island – Patong Beach, Phuket – by ferry plus 20 km

The ferry to Phuket was only at 14h00, hence a slow start. Arriving in Phuket at 18h00 left just enough time to cycle to Patong Beach via a steep hill. We uncovered a room right in the heart of the action and paid two nights. Already late, only enough time remained to have a quick shower before heading to the beach.

Patong Beach is known for its sex tourism and parties and about each shop was either a tattoo parlour, bar or massage house. The action went throughout the night. Going for a run, the last party-goers were only staggering home. Some clearly didn’t make it home as I noticed a few bodies on the beach, lost to the world. Good thing the tide didn’t come up very high. The rest of the day was spent doing the usual chores of updating blogs, sorting out photos, and doing laundry.

 

9 March - Patong Beach – Khao Lak – 106 km

The bridge that connects Phuket Island to the mainland was easily 50 kilometres down the drag. Once back on the mainland we turned off searching for a smaller path, a decision that didn’t disappoint. We soon found ourselves beside the ocean, where brand new resort hotels replaced the pre-tsunami nipa huts. The Thailand coast is beautiful, and one can understand the desire to build resort hotels in this area. Our day became known as “The day of the big spiders”. Massive Golden Orb Web Spiders could be seen amongst trees; each web housed one giant spider (female) and a few smaller ones (male).

Hills marred the day, and I think Janice had enough of cycling hills towards the end. Still, our arrival in Khao Lak was in good time, where Fasai House made pleasant overnighting.

 

10 March – Khao Lak – Kuraburi – 90 km

Coffee was next to the pool at Fasai House before stopping at a bike shop where Janice’s disk brake was fixed. Unfortunately, it turned out a day of brake problems as I lost a brake pad and therefore had no rear brakes.

Later we followed a sign to a waterfall but couldn’t locate it. Nevertheless, we decided to proceed along the rural path, which turned out hilly. Janice’s brake gave problems, and we did what any good bicycle mechanic would do and gave it a liberal spray of WD40.

Still, it remained a lovely ride through a rural and wooded part of the country. Our late start made arriving in Kuraburi after five, where we bunked down at the Tararin Resort. This wasn’t the kind of place that springs to mind when thinking of a resort. However, the accommodation remained unique in ramshackle wooden stilted bungalows on the banks of the Nang Yon River. The room was large and sported a door to a tiny balcony overlooking the river.

 

11-12 March - Kuraburi – Bang Ben Beach – 79 km

We were lucky enough to find an excellent bicycle shop in tiny Kuraburi. The staff replaced my bike’s brake blocks and fixed Janice’s disc brake. Phew, what a relief.

It was already late when all was done, and the day turned into a hot and hilly ride to Bang Ben Beach. Fortunately, the immensely popular Ice Coffee were plentiful and kept us both fuelled and cool. The path led past ornate temples, lush forests and tiny hamlets.

Thailand’s west coast is particularly scenic, making enjoyable touring. By afternoon Janice had enough of the hills, and we turned off to Bang Ben Beach and Wasana Resort. Following a shower and a short cycle to the harbour, supper was at Wasana restaurant. I ordered the green curry and Janice fish; both dishes were delicious.

An additional day was spent at our comfortable bungalow at Wasana Resort. The day was spent lazing around doing nothing apart from cycling to the beach where we swam at a deserted beach. Our evening bike ride took us to the pier, where boats laid high and dry, waiting until the tide came in.

 

13-15 March - Bang Ben Beach – Ranong – 52 km

A short but scenic ride took us to Ranong. One knows you’re in the tropics when a grassy hill becomes a tourist attraction. Stopping to fill our water bottles brought opportunities to chat with shopkeepers. They were generally quite shy as I didn’t think many foreigners ever stopped in their neck of the woods. There was no real reason to stop in Ranong but we did anyhow. In hindsight, a room at Casa Theresa was a good thing, as by evening, Janice had come down with a terrible cold.

Ranong was a popular place for visa runs to Myanmar, resulting in a few lost souls hanging about. The following two days were spent in Ranong, giving Janice time to recover from her dreadful cold. The only thing we did was cycle the two and a half kilometres to the hot spring, but once there didn’t swim or even stick our feet in the water as the water was far too hot. I never saw anyone submerged only a few brave souls placed their feet momentarily in the water.

 

16 March – Ranong – Kra Buri – 60 km

Janice felt loads better, allowing us to head further north. The way was picturesque and ran through dense forests, past waterfalls, and over hills offering fantastic vistas over the surrounding area. It further passed a multitude of monasteries and stands selling interesting nibbles as well as ice-cold sugar cane juice.

Kra Buri came after 60 km of pedalling. The day’s ride ended at the sight of lovely little A-frame bungalows at Pannika Resort. Around sunset, a short ride took us to a nearby restaurant where I ordered Tom Yam, and Janice fried shrimp served accompanied by a good dose of fried cashew nuts. Both meals were delicious and we ate far too much.

 

17 March - Kra Buri – Thungwualaen Beach – 80 km

Back on the bikes, we soon reached the Kra Isthmus, the Malay Peninsula’s narrowest point and a mere 100 metres from Myanmar, situated on the Kra Buri River’s opposite bank. The stretch of land between the Kra River estuary and the Bay of Sawi on Thailand’s east coast is a meagre 44 kilometres.

Soon after getting underway, the route swung inland over the mountains to the East coast. A pleasant cycle over gentle hills past plenty of food vendors selling steamed dumplings. The mountain range we cycled over (by then only a few hills) forms part of a mountain chain that runs from Tibet through the Malay peninsula.

At first, we thought of stopping in Chumphon but decided to head to the beach 16 kilometres further. The decision was good as the beach was a beautiful spot featuring pleasant bungalows across from the beach. I noticed a diving outfit and couldn’t help myself. I dug into my limited resources and arranged a two-tank boat dive the following day. Sunset was an excellent time to walk to a restaurant on the beach and grab a bite to eat, watching the fishing boats in the bay.

 

18 March - Thungwualaen Beach

Both Janice and I got up early, but still too late to catch the sunrise over the Gulf of Thailand. Instead, we sat on our little veranda enjoying our morning coffee until time to pedal off to the dive centre. The dive boat was anchored in the bay, and passengers were ferried out by a rubber boat. The first dive was only the divemaster and me as the other guests snorkelled. All went well, and we saw loads of fish until halfway through the dive. Then, out of nowhere came a Tiggerfish that attacked the divemaster. He fended it off the best he could, but the fish kept coming. The Tigger then turned on me , banged into my cylinder, and tried to bite my hair (not difficult taking my mop). The divemaster tried scaring the fish using his “tank-banger” and we swam away from the reef as fast as possible. The Tigger was obviously protecting his territory.

Still, we continued the dive, and only once onboard did, I notice the fish bit a chunk out of the dive master’s nose! Have you ever! Best was for him to return to the shore as soon as possible, and I got transferred (mid-seas) to a different boat. The best thing was that this was a proper Thai operation, and all the diving staff and guests were Thai. Although little English was spoken, the food was genuinely Thai and delicious. I did two more stunning dives (even though I only paid for two), and though the viz wasn’t fantastic, it remained a pleasure being in the water. One of the dives was a wreck dive, making diving even more exciting.

 

19 March - Thungwualaen Beach – Bang Saphan Beach – 85 km

After a jog and a swim, we cycled out of Tungwualaen. The day’s ride turned out stunning, partly along the coast and partly inland past colourful Buddhist temples. I watched in amazement as villagers dried and prepared nipa leaf paper for rolling cigarettes. The young leaves are dried in the sun and then neatly folded until used or sold. I would’ve had significantly more info if I could speak Thai. Not a great deal further a Naga Buddha temple provided an opportunity to snatch a few pics.

Our path ran across rivers where fishing boats lay three or four deep, waiting to go out to sea. At the same time, villagers were busy drying tiny fishes on large wooden racks in the sun. We biked past idyllic beaches and came upon a beautiful coastal route sporting a cycle path. This relaxed ride continued to Bang Saphan Beach which offered convenient bungalows across from the seafront.

The weather was sweltering and jumping into the ocean came naturally. Once showered, the food from the next-door restaurant was delicious, and the bill a mere 190 Thai Baht (two plates of food plus beer).

 

20 March - Bang Saphan Beach – Ban Krut – 34 km

The coastline north of Bang Saphan is easily one of the most beautiful and thus difficult to leave without breakfast on the beach. A country road ran flush next to the ocean, a cycle tourer’s dream. Our route meandered past snow-white sandy beaches dotted with palm trees and lone hammocks. So idyllic was it shortly after leaving a guesthouse at one of these “brochure-beautiful” spots enticed us in. The remainder of the day was spent doing close to nothing, apart from swimming and enjoying our beautiful surroundings.

 

21-22 March – Ban Krut – Prachuap Khiri Khan – 70 km

Janice felt energetic, and we rode up the Khao Thong Chai Mountain to view its hilltop temple, where our arrival coincided with the first tour busses. Afterwards, we ambled along this beautiful stretch of coast. I was fascinated by a roadside shrine slightly different from the rest. Not only did it include orange soda instead of the usual red ones, but bright, colourful plastic flowers further adorned it. To the one side of the shrine was a showcase storing beautiful silk clothing and a shelter housing a small wooden canoe and two wooden figurines. It made me wonder about its purpose.

We went past a never-ending string of interesting stuff, from colourful temples to people doing their daily chores. Some were fishing in ponds or making charcoal from coconut shells. Others were selling wares from carts laden with goods—all adding to an exciting day of touring.

Our arrival in Prachuap was simultaneous with the setting up of food stalls, a good time to arrive at one’s destination.

One more day was spent in Prachuap. Maggie’s Homestay was a laid-back place where all stayed longer than planned. Janice and I’d a whole host of things to do, and the day, therefore, was spent doing the usual chores. Later, we visited the Monkey Temple or Wat Thammikaram. Gangs of monkeys (macaques) live at the temple, which sported a monkey fountain where they hung out. These clever creatures have learned how to undo brick paving and use it to crush nuts and other stones. Interesting was watching one who found a shard of mirror and couldn’t stop looking at herself. Mothers tenderly cared for newborns while young ones ran amok. Even more compelling was the “Monkey Lady,” an elderly lady selling bananas from a bicycle to farangs at 20 Thai baht a bunch. She appeared from the lower strata of society but was as sharp as any business executive. Try as you might, there was no getting a picture of her until handing over the 20 baht. The bananas were priced the same as the market but were clearly only edible by monkeys. She was indeed a clever lady.

 

23 March - Prachuap Khiri Khan – Sam Roi National Park – 74 km

As Janice wanted to pop into the bike shop, which only opened at 9, we packed up at leisure. The coastal road passed picturesque fishing villages where we came upon a festival (or funeral). It could’ve been a Hindu gathering with a band, food enough to feed all of Thailand, dancing, and coconuts smashing. Dancing or chanting, a coconut was randomly thrown at a waiting “batsman” who would whack it to pieces using a baseball-like bat. My request to take pics was granted. However, I was unsure how far I could push the permission so readily granted and therefore stayed on the outskirts. Departing, I was sorry as one could’ve snapped a few unique pictures if bold enough to become part of the gathering.

We turned off the highway and noticed a beautiful little railway station. The station was in excellent condition featuring well-maintained and manicured gardens. Sadly, the stationmaster spoke no English. Our route passed many beautiful temples aiming for Khao Sam Roi National Park. The plan was to explore this famous cave temple in the morning. Baan Pak Rimkong guesthouse was a convenient place on stilts on the river and where fishing boats were moored outside our window.

 

24-25 March – Sam Roi - Hua Hin – 58 km

A 10-minute boat ride took us around the headland to Laem Sala Beach. A steep trail headed up the mountain, around a 15-minute walk to the top of the hill, and then a gentle descent into the Phraya Nakon cave. A hole in the cave ceiling allows light to shine onto the temple. Sadly, the weather was overcast, and we didn’t see the light shaft. Still, we snapped a few pics, before returning to the bikes.

A coastal route led further north. Shortly before Hua Hin, a cycle path made easy riding into this touristy city. The place was swarming with tourists, and we located Bird Guest House; a rickety place on stilts over the water in the old part of town. The wooden deck made a perfect place to enjoy the cool evening air while watching the tide roll in.

The following morning, I took a jog along the beach, followed by a dip in the ocean. However, the water, at 30˚C, didn’t help in cooling me. Hua Hin’s bike shop was well stocked, and Janice bought new cycling shorts, a bicycle pump, and a handlebar bag with space for a phone.

 

26 March – Hua Hin – Samut Songkhram – 112 km

We were late in getting underway, something which became the norm. Luckily, cycling was easy and interesting. At first, the plan was to stop mid-way to Samut Songkhram, but Janice felt energetic, and we pushed on. En route were a few interesting things. One was the Hau Hin airport runway that crossed the road. Mercifully, this was via a bridge across the street. Still, it remained odd seeing planes come into land heading straight in our direction.

Our chosen route followed small paths, to such an extent, it ended up between salt pans and eventually we’d to walk our bikes to the main road. However, the most amazing part of the day was watching workers carrying salt from the salt pan to sheds. Both men and women, of all ages, scooped salt into bamboo baskets hanging from shoulder poles, and then, with a bouncing stride, carted their heavy loads to the shed. I was shocked at seeing what looked like kids, no older than 10 or 12 years, working in the salt mines. I didn’t expect to see that in modern Thailand.

One got thirsty just watching them and a nearby stand selling sugarcane juice lured as in. The ice-cold drinks were greedily gulped down before continuing to Samut Songkram, where our arrival coincided with the setting up of food stands. Although the food looked tempting, we pointed our cycles in the direction of Hometown Hostel, and as this was my third time at this lovely hostel, it almost felt like home.

 

27-28 March – Samut Songkhram – Kanchanaburi – 117 km

Samut Songkhram was home to the famous Maeklong Railway Market where a warren of stalls spilt over onto the railway line. As the train approached traders hastily moved produce and canopies a mere metre away, leaving barely enough space for the train to pass. At snail’s pace the train creeps through the crowded market, and once past, the whole shebang goes back into place in record time. Afterwards, trade continued as before—only to follow the same procedure when the next train arrived.

En route to Kanchanaburi a kind man stopped and handed me a large plastic bag containing water, biscuits, and flavoured milk. How awesome is that? As often happened, he commented, “You must be strong.” I wanted to reply, “Out of all the things I am, strong isn’t one of them, but I only smiled and nodded.

Once I caught up to Janice, we parked off in the shade to devour our gift. Kanchanaburi sported bungalows at Rainbow Lodge, right on the River Kwai at 250 baht, which couldn’t be any more convenient. No sooner were the panniers unpacked and we sat watching the sunset over the famous River Kwai.

An additional day was spent in Kanchanaburi, allowing enough time to explore the sad history of what is now known as the “Death Railway”. Looking at the rows and rows of graves at the war cemetery, an incredible sadness came over me as I, once again, realised there’s no limit to humanity’s greed for power. Although, I guess there never was and never will be.

 

29 March – Kanchanaburi – Suphan Buri – 98 km

An additional cyclist arrived at Rainbow Lodge, and the chatter continued a while before setting out. The day turned out easy and fascinating riding. Views of rice paddies, sugar cane fields, beautiful temples, and ancient ruins became a familiar scene. Our first stop was at Wat Phra That or Wat Phra That Sala Khao. Excavations indicated the temple was built from 1424 to 1488 during Phra Borommaracha 11. The weather was hot and humid, and we were happy when a lady arrived, selling ice-cold drinks. Our second stop was at Wat Kuti Song, but I could not find information about its origin.

In Suphan Buri, an inexpensive room at the very contradictorily named Delux Hotel was our spot that night. Unfortunately, the room only had one faint light, to such an extent that we’d to use our torches to find our belongings. Having a shower, the towel rail fell off the wall indicating the Delux part of the name clearly referred to a different era.

 

30-31 March - Supahn Buri – Lop Buri – 86 km

Certain days are more exciting or bizarre than others. On this day the temples all claimed to have something special. One boasted ancient ruins; another claimed to have the most beautiful Buddha statue in Thailand. One featured a 300-year-old sacred tree and sculptures of Buddha riding a giant bee. By following secondary roads, we came upon fascinating stalls. Not only did they sell the usual fruit (accompanied by a sugar-and-chilli mix), but also grilled squirrels. There’s certainly not a dull moment when travelling by bicycle.

Although our arrival in Lop Buri was early, the weather was far too hot to explore. The weather report indicated the temperature was 37˚C, but it felt like 40˚C. Lopburi is an ancient town offering an abundance of old ruins all within easy walking distance. Today the town is occupied by ordinary Thai life and a gang of monkeys.

We walked out at around 5:50, and albeit still sweltering, the weather was more bearable. The famous Lop Buri sites were already closed by then. Instead, a visit to the monkey temple left me in awe of how similar monkey family life is to our own, and I could spend hours observing them. Cute as they were, they could be quite a menace.

We were up early to explore the temples before the heat set in. I witnessed a monkey giving birth, and I watched in wonderment as the mother cared for her newborn. The delivery was a messy affair, and not for the squeamish, as she ate the placenta while possessively clutching her little one. Even though she allowed me quite close, she didn’t tolerate other monkeys. If any of them approached, she would hug the baby and placenta (both still attached to her) aggressively, baring her teeth. It’s typical behaviour as males often kill newborn monkeys to make room for themselves. Eventually, she turned her back to the world and sat facing the temple wall. Gosh, what an extraordinary event to watch.

 

1 April – Lopburi – Ayutthaya – 64 km

A short and easy ride brought us to historical Ayutthaya where rivers encircle this UNESCO World Heritage Site. Once the capital of the Kingdom of Siam, Ayutthaya was founded around 1350. With its ideal location between China, India, and the Malay Archipelago, the city was Asia’s trading capital. By 1700 Ayutthaya had become the largest city globally with 1 million inhabitants. However, all this came to a swift end when the Burmese invaded Ayutthaya in 1767 and practically raised it to the ground. Afterwards, Bangkok was established as the new capital.

Even though I’ve been to this area numerously, I never got tired of exploring its ruins. To me, this is where the Thais reached the pinnacle of their regional dominance and where the Thai culture was shaped into what it is today.

Home was Baan Lotus; an old schoolhouse converted into a guesthouse. I couldn’t believe the owner remembered me. It always floored me when people recognised me as thousands of guests must walk through their doors. We’d a quick shower and then hopped on the bicycles to investigate the ruins. Nearly all buildings were built in the Thai heyday, between 1350–1767. Strange how they warded off Western assaults but eventually fell to the Burmese.

 

2 April – Ayutthaya – Bangkok – 80 km

The way into Bangkok followed a quiet route next to a canal and then a path along the new Skytrain (still under construction at the time). We sailed into hectic Bangkok like two pros and arrived at our destination in the Khaosan Road area while the rest of Bangkok was still “siesta-ing”.

The ride into Bangkok further ended Janice’s tour of Southeast Asia. Luckily, nearly a week remained to enjoy amazing Bangkok and all it offered before Janice’s flight home.

 

3-4 April - Bangkok

Janice and I wandered around crazy Bangkok, walked along the canals and uncovered a few of the city’s weird places. By evening we met up with Andre and Anton (friends from the UAE) and ate at my favourite dim-sum restaurant in Chinatown.

The next night we met again at their fancy resort hotel for a bite to eat. Andre and Anton picked up the tab on both occasions - how generous of them.

 

4-7 April – Bangkok

The days passed quickly and soon the time came for Janice to pack her bicycle and panniers and get ready to fly home to South Africa.

Wednesday 8 February 2017

CYCLE TOURING INDONESIA (2) - EN ROUTE TO MEET JANICE

 


INDONESIA (2) - EN ROUTE TO MEET JANICE
1222 Km – 29 Days
9 January – 7 February 2017

 


MAP

PHOTOS



 

Bali

130 Km – 6 Days

 

9 January 2017 – Cape Town, South Africa – Bali, Indonesia

Too soon time came to say goodbye to my lovely family and all my awesome friends. Unfortunately, I didn’t get to see everyone but spend time with my mum and met up with a longstanding Facebook friend, Diana, with whom I spent a lovely day around the Winelands of the Cape. We watched a hilarious duck parade and enjoyed a glass of wine on the lawn. Bliss. I walked in the mountains, ran along the beachfront, joined my dragon boat friends for a paddle, and spent countless nights shooting the breeze next to “braai” fires. Only once did I cycle and could as well have kept the bicycle in the box.

On 9 January, I boarded an Indonesia-bound flight. I planned to slowly make my way to Malaysia to meet my friend Janice for a “Kuala Lumpur to Bangkok” cycle. Watch this space! Time to return to life on the bike, and I was excited to see what Indonesia held.

 

10 January - Bali

Virtually 24 hours later, I landed in Bali and couldn’t wait to get out of the airport and into the fresh air. Bali is situated a mere 8 degrees south of the equator, and the weather, as could be expected, thus hot and humid. I flagged down a taxi, as I was in no mood to reassemble the bike in such humidity. The cab dropped me at Komala Indah Cottages, sporting bungalows set in a lush garden. The price included a breakfast of coffee, toast, jam, and bananas.

I drew 2,000,000 RP, bought a SIM card, paid the guesthouse, and bought a large Bintang beer, which I drank sitting on the steps talking to other travellers. I fell asleep early but was wide awake at 3 a.m. Bali is five hours ahead of where I came from, and therefore no wonder my time was out of sync.

 

11 January – Bali

Nonetheless, I fell asleep and only woke at 9 a.m; after which, I hurriedly dressed and went for a jog. Sadly, the run turned out to be a rather unpleasant affair, as it was already too late and became too hot and humid.

I reassembled the bike and organised my panniers. Then set out to the shop to get a few bits and pieces needed as I fly with the bare minimum.

Bali is as touristy as they come but remains a pleasant enough place to hang out, and I took a walk along Kuta beach. I’m sure there were enough tie-dyed T-shirts and sarongs to dress the entire Africa, and one wonders how all the eateries make a living. I watched the sunset over the Indian Ocean as surfers caught the last waves of the day, all while doing my fair share for the sale of Bintang beer. I quite liked the madness of it all.

 

12 January – Bali

The plan was to head out, but I encountered software problems and considered it best to sort it out prior to getting underway. It took hours and hours; eventually, I called in Microsoft support, who also experienced difficulty reloading the programs. The connection was immensely slow, resulting in it being 10 p.m. before all was up and running.

Consequently, I didn’t see a great deal of Bali and its beaches and just walked out once (while the slow upload was in progress) to marvel at all Bali holds. However, it stayed surprisingly Balinese for such a touristy island.

This time I waited until sunset to head out on my run. It turned out a glorious evening, and the sunset was genuinely spectacular. I was extremely grateful I’d the desire and will to run. I planned to jump in the ocean but once done, the sun was long gone, and I still needed to rinse my sweaty running gear. Soon time came for my daily Bintang and Mie Goreng (stir-fried noodles), laden with chilli.

 

13 January – Bali – Mengwi – Ubud – app 50 km

I first cycled to the Pelni ferry office to inquire about a ferry to Singapore to meet Janice in Malaysia in a month. According to the Bali office, a ferry departed Tanjung Priok, Jakarta, to the island of Batang, arriving there the following day. Various ferries are left from Batang to Singapore several times (one hour).

I returned to my abode to load the bike and swung by the bike shop to buy a new set of pedals. It was thus past midday before setting out, sporting two bright red pedals. Next, I pointed the bike in the direction of the small village of Mengwi, home to the Taman Ayun Temple, a group of temples situated in a beautiful garden. The entire stretch between Kuta and Mengwi resembled one massive temple. The road was dotted by vendors selling temple paraphernalia. Sadly, my arrival coincided with bucketing rain; as a result, not many pictures were taken. Finally, the rain subsided, and I continued in the direction of Ubud along a path that led past bright green rice terraces and ornate temples.

Shortly ahead of Ubud, one massive clap of thunder nearly made me fall of the bike, and almost immediately, rain came pelting down. I pulled into the first accommodation spot. I must’ve looked somewhat bedraggled as the lady gave me a considerable discount. I felt guilty as the place offered an aircon and hot water.

 

14 January - Ayu Bungalows, Ubud – Medewi Beach – 80 km

“Did you sleep well?” my host asked, smiling, palms together, fingers touching her forehead. What lovely people the Balinese are. Included in the room rate was a breakfast of scrambled eggs and toast, fruit and Indonesian coffee served upon my little veranda. At the same time, the sweet smell of incense drifted across from offerings.

One can’t sit staring into space all day, and I waved my kind host goodbye. The Goa Gajah or Elephant Cave dated to the ninth century and I swung by the site to investigate. I’m not sure if it meant the cave was dug out in the ninth century (it’s pretty tiny inside) or if the time refers to the carvings around the cave entrance and the bathing ghats (excavated in the 1950s). To enter the cave (now a temple), one needed a sarong, which I donned as I didn’t want to anger the fierce-looking demons.

The rest of the day was marred by undulating riding. Once over the high point, I sped downhill to the coast past scenic rice terraces and had to take the obligatory Bali rice terrace shot. I didn’t take one but hundreds. I guessed the rest of the evening would be spent sifting through them. Although the coastal route was hectic and narrow, it was immensely picturesque. Albeit sticking as much to the side as possible, the ride remained challenging. Finally, I passed a good number of surf camps and other nice-looking beaches and settled for Medewi Beach, which sported a handful of places to stay, all reasonably priced. Once showered, I ambled to the nearest food cart for my daily bowl of bakso soup and beer.

 

Java

1 092 km – 23 days

 

15-16 January - Medewi Beach, Bali – Banyuwangi Beach Hotel, Java – 60 km

Breakfast was a rather exciting affair known as a parcel and coffee. The parcel consisted of rice and other ingredients wrapped in a banana leaf, closed with a toothpick or thin bamboo stick. Delicious. I then biked to Gilimanuk, from where ferries left to the Island of Java. An enjoyable ride of mountains to the one side and the ocean to the other, past the ever-present rice paddies. The route ran through a national park, an area even more lush and green than average. Vehicles had cut a tunnel through the overhanging branches making a dark ride. At the same time, monkeys risked their lives darting across the busy road.

The ferry from Gilimanuk to Java Island was a relatively short crossing that took barely 10 minutes. Still, we’d have to wait roughly an hour for the ferry to depart.

Once on Java island, I opted for the Banyuwangi Beach Hotel, which sounded far more glamorous than it turned out. But, then, what can one expect for $3–$6 a night. So I went upmarket and settled for a $6 room—living the high life.

The stay was to arrange a trip to a nearby crater lake. I got picked up at midnight, from where it took an hour and a half to drive up the mountain. Then followed a walk up a steep path for an additional hour to the crater rim. This was where things became somewhat surreal. A steep descent led into the crater and Kawah Ijen Lake and its sulphur deposits. Noxious and sulphurous smoke billowed from the volcano’s vent. Both a guide and a mask were included should’ve warned me regarding the conditions. It was more bizarre to pass miners digging sulphur from the crater floor and lugging it upon shoulder poles up the near-vertical path. These guys work in conditions that can only be described as “a medieval vision of hell” and one could barely make them out as they slowly made their way up the path in a cloud of sulphurous smoke. One could see the bright blue sulphur fires burning on the crater floor. I felt extremely sorry for the people working there, without masks or protection.

By the time I returned, the time was 7:00 and I hadn’t slept or eaten since breakfast the previous morning. Time for food and a nap!

 

17 January - Banyuwangi Beach Hotel – Situbondo - 88 km

Sporting a population of 260 million, Indonesia is somewhat crowded. Fifty-eight % of the people live on Java Island, making Java the world’s most populous island. As a result, the narrow roads were rather congested, and the potholes didn’t make riding any easier. Broken down trucks had nowhere to pull off. I passed one that looked as if it’d been there some time, as the drivers were playing board games (using a board drawn on the tarmac) while the others were collecting money from passing traffic.

The first few days in a new country can be overwhelming as everything is unique and different. Even though this was my second visit to Indonesia, I found it no less exciting. If I wrote down all I found intriguing, I’m sure it would be a book. This day was no different and exiting the shop where I bought water, I noticed someone measuring my bike. The poor chap seemed to go around measuring everything, from gutters to paving stones. If that wasn’t enough, I twice came upon a stark naked person, casually ambling along. I know the Dani tribe from New Guinea wears barely anything, but I didn’t think these guys were from New Guinea. I assumed their nakedness was due to mental problems.

The remainder of the day was less bizarre as I made my way through small settlements past bright green rice fields with the ever-present cone-shaped mountains as a backdrop. Banana stores sold nothing but bananas, in all colours, shapes and sizes. I pedalled past men sitting on their haunches cutting grass along the no-man’s-land next to the road (as animal feed, I guessed) and hijab-wearing women tending sheep. I passed colourful stores selling exclusively hijabs and was considering getting one. Boys flew kites in the rice paddies and older men peddled woven baskets. Women dried small fishes using wooden tables, and others transported wood upon motorbikes stacked sky-high. All this took place as the muezzins called people to prayer. I felt they should pay more attention to the quality of their speakers.

I called it a day at Situbondo, where I located an inexpensive abode and couldn’t complain about the bathroom, that turned out an unusual affair. Stranger was the beds facing the bathroom instead of the door. Plenty of street food abounded, but beer was more difficult to locate. I bought one at the Indomaret simply to discover it a Bintang Zero.

 

18-19 January – Situbondo – Probolinggo – 95 km

“Hello, Mister” is the standard greeting in Indonesia, and I received numerous thumbs-ups from motorbikes scooting past. Still, it appeared I remained a novelty and guessed seeing a western woman travelling by bicycle was a rear event.

The route hugged the coast the best part of the day, making it easy and scenic cycling. The way was lined with “warungs” (restaurants) selling “Ikan Bakar” (grilled fish). In the process, my Basa Indonesian was coming along nicely. In the food department, Basa Indonesian is relatively easy as long as one knows the words for rice (nasi), noodles (mie, mee or mi), fried (goreng), grilled (bakar), chicken (Ayam), and fish (Ikan). In addition, I learned to say where I’m from (Africa Selatan) and that a bicycle is a sepeda.

Besides the restaurants, plenty of fish and rice were drying in the sun, which is understandable as Indonesia’s staple.

Practically 90% of the population is Muslim, and hence not surprising, I encountered a multitude of mosques - they all seemed short of money and collected from passing vehicles, making the already narrow road even more so. Phew, I forgot how challenging cycling in Indonesia could be.

Probolinggo signalled the end of the day’s ride. I wanted to go to Mount Bromo and desperately needed to do laundry.

 

20 January – Probolinggo – Mt. Bromo

In the morning, I packed up and left Probolinggo, but reaching the turn-off to Mt Bromo, I changed my mind and decided to make the short detour there after all. Instead of cycling up the mountain, I opted for accommodation, and I grabbed a motorbike taxi to the top.

Though I visited Mt Bromo six years previously, I believed it worthwhile paying it another visit. Although a spectacular ride led up the mountain, it was a relatively unsuccessful day when taking pictures. I thought the images taken six years earlier were miles better. In any event, it remained a spectacular sight.

As one entered the vast caldera, the fume-belching cone of Mt Bromo stared you right in the face, and, from a distance, one could hear the hissing and splattering of the volcano. A short trek across the sand led to the summit and the crater’s rim, where one could gaze into the belly of the beast. It splattered and roared as steam and smoke rose high above the cone. Walking along the edge while smoke billowed up gave the volcano an other-worldly feel.

The return trip led past vegetable plantations, and I wondered how they managed to farm along such steep terrain. The mountainous regions have an entirely different feel from the lowlands. Higher up, the weather is considerably cooler, wet and misty. Blanket-clad farmers on horseback inspected farmlands and reminded me of Africa. Wooden houses upon stilts clung precariously to the mountainside, and red-cheeked kids skipped their way to school.

Returning to my abode, I ordered a bowl of bakso prior to cycling into town to stock up with needed supplies.

 

21 January – Probolinggo – Surabaya – 102 km

The terrible road and horrendous traffic made a slow, soot-laden exhaust inhaled ride to Surabaya. Nevertheless, it was a fantastic day, and though not a significant amount happened, the general everyday life fascinated me. Mobile carts sold beautiful woven articles, and I cycled past gangs of schoolgirls on scooters, giggling their way to school. Mothers steered motorbikes one-handed, holding (what looked like) a near one-day-old baby on the other arm. Bicycle rickshaws carted hijab-clad pre-schoolers to and from school while toothless men sat chewing nasi goreng.

There’s never a shortage of eateries in Indonesia, and the route was littered with “warungs”, selling the usual “nasi goreng”, “mee goreng”, and “Ayam”. I often got the pungent smell of durian as I cycled past stands, where stall owners appeared startled seeing a foreigner. “Hello, Mister” came from villagers selling enormous jackfruit, all making the day quintessentially Indonesian.

At the outskirts of Surabaya, it started raining, making a nerve-wracking ride into Indonesia’s second-largest city. I was happy to reach my destination but uncovering budget digs were hard in the bucketing rain.

 

22 January - Surabaya

Once in Surabaya, I thought it worth my while to explore, seeing it was such a mission getting into town. The Qubah (the city’s labyrinthine Arab quarters), situated around the Mesjid Ampel Mosque, was ideal for doing so.

The mosque is said to mark the burial place of Sunam Ampel, one of the holy men who brought Islam to Java, and at the rear of the mosque is a grave where devotees offer rose petals and chant prayers. The mosque formed part of a lively souk selling typical Arab merchandise, including dates, fezzes, samosa, prayer beads, perfumes, and heaps more. The area wasn’t touristy, and I stood out like a sore thumb as I wandered the alleys, camera in hand. Residents peeked through curtains and doors slightly ajar, most likely wondering what foreigners were doing in their area. “Photo, photo,” the youngsters called, making easy photography, even if not the best of backgrounds. I nibbled from mobile carts and watched in amazement as ducks were slaughtered right on the pavement.

Chinatown didn’t disappoint either and was colourful and vibrant, featuring beautiful temples and the ever-present colourful dragons, not to mention exciting eats. Unfortunately, the fish market was already finished when I arrived. Still, the rest of the market was in full swing, selling anything from meat to vegetables and fruit. The market area was equally crowded, and bicycle rickshaws waited in line to cart shoppers home.

 

23 January - Surabaya – Bojonegoro – 117 km

A nerve-wracking ride led out of Surabaya. I first made a loop through town as the way I’d in mind was a toll road, and bicycles weren’t allowed. Eventually, I found the path and followed men on bikes dressed in shalwar kameezes and fezzes out of the bustling city centre.

It took almost two hours to get on—and I hesitate to call it—the open road. Of course, there’s no such thing as an “open road” in Indonesia, but at least I was out of the thick of things. The entire way continued to be busy. I scarcely took out the camera as I concentrated on avoiding potholes and keeping my line.

Mercifully, cycling became more relaxed once out of the city limits, and the day passed quickly. I only once tried a minor route, and though it came offered beautiful vistas, it was too rough, and I returned to the main road. Midday, a truck overturned and spilt its entire cargo of rice. It caused a massive traffic jam, and lorries backed up tens of kilometres. Phew, I was happy on a bicycle. The self-appointed traffic wardens did an excellent job.

 

24 January – Bojonegoro – Sragen – 125 km

There was no sleeping in between the cocks crowing and muezzins calling people to prayer. Good thing as well, as the day turned out relatively slow going. The day started with a scenic ride past rice paddies and mosques; unfortunately, the road deteriorated. I rattled, shook, and bounced my way along, something which got more irritating as the day wore on. I laughed as nearly all motorbike riders spun around to see who or what was on the bicycle. I couldn’t blame them, as I resembled a clown in yoga pants and a skirt. Now and again, I would spot a mobile phone and hand popping out a car window. Being constantly in the public eye is tiring and I wondered if other cycle tourers felt the same.

Around midday, the heat grew more intense and the route hillier. Still, I followed a country lane through a rural area, where woodcraft appeared the primary income. The way was lined by stands selling beautiful wooden items, from furniture to statues and even skulls.

I managed to stay dry all day and uncovered the Graha Hotel in Sragen before rain poured down. The hotel offered a few economy fan rooms on the ground floor, and I could wheel my bike right in.

 

25 January – Sragen – Surakarta (Solo) – 32 km

The traffic was already hectic when I got going, but I soon found myself between rice fields and mosques. I’d no intention of turning into Solo but then changed my mind as it boasted quite a few noteworthy things. I thus set out on foot to explore the old part. But, unfortunately, I was hardly underway, and it started bucketing down. I imagined I could wait it out but, eventually, it took a bicycle rickshaw ride to get back as I’d no umbrella.

Nothing much came of my sightseeing as the rain never subsided. I popped out only once for a bowl of soup and to buy a plastic raincoat. Next, I did laundry, hoping it would be dry by morning. Luckily, my laptop came to life, and I could sort out my growing number of photos.

 

26 January - Surakarta – Prambanan Temple – 53 km

I couldn’t fall asleep; maybe the wallpaper was too busy, or perhaps due to the fact I’d practically done nothing the previous day. I must’ve fallen asleep at around 3 a.m., but the muezzin soon started calling. One of the residents in the alley further passed away during the night, and funeral procedures began at around 6 a.m.

Eventually, I got up as there was no point in trying to sleep. The price included breakfast, and what a feast. I was served rice topped with a tofu stew, delicious and an all-vegetarian affair.

By the time I got underway, the entire lane was covered to give shelter from the threatening rain. Chairs were put out, and the body lay covered for people to say their last goodbyes. Speakers blasted verses from the Quran for the entire neighbourhood to hear. In a way, quite lovely, as friends and family randomly popped in.

I spotted guys loading flour and imagined them making interesting pics with their flour-covered faces. But, unfortunately, they spotted me, and on emerging from the shed, they’d cleaned their faces. How sweet!

I cycled the short distance to the Prambanan temple. The temple complex is a UNESCO site and consists of beautiful Hindu temples from the ninth century. The temple is dedicated to Shiva and was constructed by the king of the ancient Mataram Kingdom in 856 AD.

I uncovered nearby digs and then set off on foot to explore the complex. Unfortunately, the weather didn’t play along (photography wise). Still, the temples are in a beautiful garden setting and a pleasure strolling around.

 

27 January - Prambanan Temple – Borobudur – 55 km

A short day of cycling took me to famous Borobudur, home to one of the most important Buddhist sites in the world. Built with two million stone blocks in the form of an asymmetrical stupa, it’s one of the finest temples in all of Indonesia. It’s said viewed from the air; the temple resembles a colossal three-dimensional tantric mandala. In any event, I’m ahead of myself as first, I’d to get there.

I followed country lanes through the smallest of settlements. A beautiful ride, offering views of the famous smoking cone of Gunung Merapi in the distance and past bunches of schoolchildren waving enthusiastically. I felt sorry for these small kids, all bundled up as if they lived along the Arctic Circle instead of the equator. It surely can’t be healthy. For the most part, I read that people in Muslim countries suffer from a lack of vitamin D. If so, it would be regrettable as they live in such sunny countries. I can’t see how kids can play dressed like that, sad, as kids do not choose a religion. No wonder people are so unhealthy. When visiting temples, I’m shocked to notice people struggling up a standard set of stairs huffing and puffing and hanging onto railings.

In Borobudur, I booked into the Pondok Tinggal Hotel. At first, it looked far too pricy, but the staff were extremely kind and offered me a good discount. The hotel was a beautiful bamboo and timber building featuring rooms around a spacious courtyard garden.

I didn’t go straight to the temple but planned on going around six the following day. In any case, it soon started raining, and even if I wanted to visit, it wouldn’t have been possible.

 

28 January – Borobudur

Art students occupied nearly the entire hotel, and a cultural show in the courtyard entertained us. The performance carried on until 2 a.m. Still, I was up at five and at the temple by six.

The light was slightly better than on my previous visit, but being a Saturday meant half of Indonesia was there. I was clearly not the sole one who wanted to see famous Borobudur. The temple is a UNESCO site, and the entrance fee was quite costly at $20 (for foreigners).

It’s, however, a fascinating site, and it’s believed construction started around 750 AD. The temple is wrapped around a small hill. Still, during renovation work, archaeologists discovered the hill wasn’t a natural one, as assumed, but artificial. It’s believed the temple was abandoned around the twelfth century, most likely due to volcanic eruptions. British Sir Stamford Raffles rediscovered the site in 1814, and the temple dug out from underneath volcanic ash.

The students made their way home, and the car club moved in. I was kindly invited to join the festivities, including a band and plenty of food and drink.

That evening a Javanese puppet show took place in the foyer. The show was interesting as it featured the famous Wayang Kulit puppets, known as shadow puppets. These performances often go on all night, and not uncommon for the audience and musicians to doze off. Wayang puppets are made from dried buffalo skin and buffalo horns. The puppets are manoeuvred by master puppeteers using a thin stick. Unfortunately, I didn’t stay long as I didn’t understand the language and felt sleepy. However, no one would’ve been offended if I’d fallen asleep.

 

29 January – Borobudur – Kebumen – 83 km

I took off in a drizzle, a drizzle that continued throughout the day. At first, a good climb led out of Borobudur, followed by an excellent descent. I flew downhill at breakneck speed—all the while keeping an eye out for the numerous potholes. I sailed past rice fields, raging streams, terracotta-tiled houses and friendly Indonesians.

History shaped the language of this country. The Portuguese, Spanish, Dutch and British all made their mark in Indonesia, and each left a few words. Words like “solo,” “mas,” “handuk,” and “kantor pos” are clearly borrowed from other languages. I thought it interesting they used the word “handuk” instead of “towel.” Obviously, this word comes from the Dutch.

I reached Kebumen early but soaked I called it quits.

 

30 January – Kebumen – Hotel & Rumah Makan Karanganyar Indah – 100 km

Indonesia is a country with immense natural beauty, and every day, I was amazed at the beauty of the landscape. Shortly after getting underway, I spotted a sign for Benteng Van Der Wijck, a Dutch fort built in the 1800s.

Departing, a sign pointed to caves and I had to investigate. The cave was remarkable as it featured four underground springs. I should’ve scooped out water as it’s believed the water from the springs will make one ageless. Inside the cave were various statues, 32 in all, said to tell the legend of Raden Kamandaka, a crown prince who was once imprisoned in the cave.

I continued via the coastal route to Cilacap but learned it didn’t run through Pangandaran. In the process, the weather came in. After one almighty clap of thunder, the heavens opened to such an extent my path quickly resembled a river. Nevertheless, I donned my plastic raincoat and carried on regardless. Finally, around 5 p.m., I discovered a roadside hotel and was happy to call it a day.

 

31 January - Hotel & Rumah Makan Karanganyar Indah – Banjar – 90 km

Accompanied by morning traffic, I slowly snaked my way out of the village, trying my utmost to avoid potholes. The rest of the day consisted of a hilly ride in Central Java. My route made its way over the mountains in the direction of Merak, where I planned to get the ferry to the island of Sumatra. However, the poor road made the going extremely slow and, in the end, I realised there was nothing I could do but relax, slow down, and follow the traffic. It remained a frustrating day, as my gears kept slipping, making the inclines even more challenging. However, the stunning views made up for the bad roads and the slipping gears.

I passed a sign stating, “Watch Out – Crocodile Estuary,” and I wondered how many people were taken before it warranted a sign. I stopped at colourful fruit stalls and was tempted to buy a whole lot but realised I couldn’t eat that much. I thus simply took a picture. The Indonesians are super-friendly and keen for you to take photos, making easy photography.

By 3 p.m., the weather came in, and reaching Banjar started raining. I didn’t feel like cycling in the rain and slipped into the first available hotel. Maybe I was overly keen, as the place was terrible and the area devoid of any facilities. Moreover, I didn’t think I would get breakfast in the morning.

 

1 February - Banjar - Tasikmalaya – 47 km

No two days are ever the same. I cycled the two or three kilometres into Banjar, searching for a shop to buy internet time. But generally, shops were still closed, and I headed out along Route 3, where I found an Indomaret mini-mart that sold virtually anything.

Having coffee, I scanned the map for a bicycle shop. I was pleasantly surprised to find a very competent and super-friendly Ikey bike store. Not merely did they adjust the derailleur, but they replaced the chain, making extra-smooth gear changing. I can’t explain how happy I was. Cycling uphill with gears slipping is no fun at all.

The plan was to push on to Bandung. Still, I was a tad over-optimistic as the town was roughly 170 kilometres away. Jatnika, from Ikey bike shop, advised to take the secondary road, and what a pleasure. The road surface was considerably better, and the way quiet. I came upon hidden gems. One was the talented knife makers selling beautiful knives and sheaths in all shapes and sizes. I passed a bandy-legged man, scavenging for recyclable items and salak stalls where sellers called “Mister, Mister” for me to sample their fruit.

Close to Tasikmalaya, I stopped to consult the map when two cyclists out on their daily ride stopped and offered to show me a decent hotel. I hence got escorted to a great hotel in Tasikmalaya.

 

2-3 February - Tasikmalaya – Jakarta - by train – bus to Merak - 45 km

I realised my time in Indonesia was running out and I’d one more look at the map and knew I’d to start moving towards Dumai more than 1,500 kilometres away. I cycled to the train station and bought a train ticket for Jakarta as I reasoned it would be easier to find onward transport from there.

The train trip, albeit long, was comfortable and we arrived in Jakarta at around six. Unfortunately, my bicycle wasn’t on the same train, and I was told to collect it in the morning. I thus grabbed a motorbike taxi to Hostel 35.

The next day I returned to the parcel office by Uber moto. Thank goodness, the bicycle was there, and I cycled to the harbour to check if the Pelni ferry had already sailed, but I was too late, and the ferry was long gone. I thought if there, I could hop on. Still, I cycled to the bus terminal about 15 kilometres away, where I finally boarded a bus to Merak, the most western point in Java from where ferries sailed for Sumatra. The time was past nine on arriving at the ferry and best to settle for a losmen (basic hotel).

 

4-6 February – Merak – Dumai (by bus)

A short cycle led to the harbour where a giant car ferry operated to Sumatra. The ferry ran throughout the day. Although further than the Bali – Java ferry, it remained a quick crossing, and we soon arrived at the tropical island of Sumatra.

Sumatra had a rather scanty public transport system, especially for long trips like Dumai and 17h00, before locating a bus that would take both the bicycle and me. I’m sure I was overcharged but still considered it a bargain as the trip was 1,400 kilometres. The bus was old without air conditioning, and we rattled along the equator along an inferior path. I honestly don’t know how backpackers do it. The bus driver needed a medal as he hardly stopped. He merely stopped to eat at around 9 p.m., after which we all settled in for an uncomfortable night.

At around 7h00, the bus stopped for breakfast, and then drove straight through till supper time. I’d no intention of dehydrating myself to prevent using a toilet, and I drank my usual amount. When I needed the bathroom, I asked the bus driver to stop, which they did without a problem. Each time I asked, the entire bus got off to do the same. Maybe that was the way to do it.

To pass the time I played on the internet, fortunately, I’d three power banks. I also realised the bus trip wasn’t going to be over that day and we settled in for another night on the hard seats of the bus. The following morning, I was let off at the Dumai/Medan junction, leaving a 50-kilometre cycle to Dumai.

I was never happier to cycle 50 kilometres. Even though sleepy, it felt downhill to Dumai. While cycling this short stretch, memories of cycling this same route seven years previously (albeit in the opposite direction) came flooding back. Still, things were much as I remembered. The potholed road, oil palm plantations, oil pipelines and houses upon stilts selling pineapples were still exactly as they were seven years ago.

Once in Dumai, I checked on the ferries, but both ferries had already departed, and I was left with two options. The 9h30 ferry to Malaka, Malaysia or the 11h00 ferry to Port Dickson, Malaysia. A third ferry sailed for Port Klang, on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Saturdays. Once all was sorted, I booked into the City Hotel at $20. My excuse for spending that much money was I spent two nights on a bus. I’d a good scrubbing, washed my hair and handed in my laundry.

 

7 February - Dumai, Indonesia – Port Dickson, Malaysia (by boat)

After an excellent Indonesian breakfast, I cycled the few hundred metres to the ferry ticket office. Although far too early, I cycled to the harbour anyway, checked in and waited until the Port Dickson ferry departed at eleven. Sadly, the weather came in, and it became a rough ride over the Straits of Malacca. The ferry rocked and rolled and could as well have been called the “Pitch & Puke” as seasick bags were in high demand.

Our boat anchored in Malaysia at three p.m., but the hour time difference made it four p.m. The weather was rather stormy, causing poor visibility as I headed out in the direction of Kuala Lumpur. I didn’t get far until spotting the Grandpa Hotel and weakened at the thought of a nice dry and comfortable abode. I wasn’t going to make Peter’s place that day anyhow, and it made little difference whether I stayed here or further along. Walking to the Giant shopping mall made me feel like a kid in a candy store. I didn’t buy anything but merely feasted my eyes on all the luxury items.