Sumatra: when the road only goes up or down

Entry into Indonesia at the port of Batam went smoothly. Batam is a small island with a lot of different ports. It was also thanks to this fact that the small ferry to Dumai on Sumatra left the next morning from a terminal about 20 kilometers away, which I was fortunately aware of. Due to the conversion rate from Euro to Rupiah of 1:16,600, I always had to deal with quite large amounts in the following two months. My impression of Batam was rather unfriendly: extensive industrial and commercial areas. Of all the Indonesian islands I visited, Batam was the most socially conservative: men without exception wore long trousers and women without exception wore headscarves. As on Malaysia's east coast, most of Batam, Sumatra and Java are characterized by conservative Sunni Islam. At the Sekupang terminal my bike was loaded into the hold of the small ferry. A ferry from the same shipping company had sunk on this route a few years ago, but the ship I was on was, on the one hand, a more modern model and, on the other hand, the sea was rather calm that day. When I arrived in Sumatra, almost everyone on the streets of Dumai greeted me. Attention like in India. It quickly became clear that only a few foreigners get lost here. The attention was so great that at one point a dozen people gathered around me to watch me eat my portion of nasi goreng. The traffic was again much louder and dirtier than in Malaysia and Thailand and the air was worse again - clearly, there is an “Indo” in “Indonesia”... The first few days in Sumatra I cycled through the notorious oil palm plantations and smaller settlements in which I was always greeted with euphoria. North of Duri, the route passed a large oil field with countless oil pumps. Crude oil and palm oil are both mined here just a stone's throw away from each other. The accommodation in this part of Indonesia was often of rather dubious quality. The “showers” usually consist of a tap and a small bucket, sinks are generally unknown and sometimes I slept with the light on so as not to attract more critters than were already there.

But the hospitality of the people on Sumatra was terrific. Countless photos were taken with me every day and people always had a smile for me. This is also where I met members of the “Federalists” for the first time. This is a club of bicycle enthusiasts throughout Indonesia. The name goes back to the Indonesian bicycle manufacturer “Federal Cycle”, which had to stop operations in the 1990s. The surviving, beautiful steel frames from this period are now cherished and cared for by the Federalists. The Federalists have excellent networks with each other, and anyone who has “got into” this network will quickly find helpful like-minded people in many places in Sumatra and Java. After a few days of cycling, the oil palm plantations gave way to the forests of the Barisan Mountains. With the mountains came the altitude, which was often really difficult in the hot and humid tropical climate. Soon the first houses and mosques with roofs shaped like an upturned boat hull appear on the side of the road. They are typical of the Minangkabau ethnic group, through whose land I was traveling at that moment. In the Barisan Mountains I finally cycled across the equator - one of the main reasons why I came to Sumatra in the first place. The southern hemisphere greeted me with another fairly steep climb. I took several breaks in the shade. Once there was suddenly a rustling in the bushes on the other side of the street. I had often seen smaller monkeys, but suddenly there was a rather large, pitch-black monkey swinging from branch to branch. He watched me carefully. Luckily he stayed on “his” side, because I would have had great respect for that caliber. I later researched that it was a siamang, the largest species of gibbon. In Padang Aro I met the federalist Syaf, who showed me on his plantation how rubber is grown here. The extraction of natural rubber still plays an important role in Sumatra. Here in western Sumatra there was one hard, long climb after another. On my entire cycling route here, there was an average of over 1,000 meters of elevation gain per 100 km of road - never easy given the tropical climate and the 60 kg bike setup. After a lunch break somewhere outside Sungai Penuh, I came to a small town that was obviously more liberal in composition. Some men wore shorts, some women did not wear headscarves, and loud music was played from a minaret. In Batam they would probably faint... I cycled through some tea plantations at the foot of Mount Kerinci, the highest volcano in Sumatra. The mountains of Sumatra were always covered in thick clouds during my stay, which is why there is not a single photo of a Sumatra volcano here in the blog. A cycling highlight was the descent from the forested mountains near Sungai Penuh to the west coast: just the right gradient, not too steep and not too flat. Accelerate on the straights, brake sharply before the curves, go into the curve, accelerate again out of the curve - and all of this in front of the rainforest scenery! This section is one of the best that I have ridden on a touring bike so far. I then traveled along the west coast of Sumatra for about two weeks. Surprisingly, the elevation profile there was even richer in elevation than in the mountains! But since the countless hills were never higher than about 200 meters, I wasn't even rewarded for my effort with cooler temperatures on the “summits”. Every now and then there were quite simple kilns on the side of the road in which bricks made from locally sourced material were fired. A very resource-saving way of producing building materials. Then one morning I was gently jolted awake by two consecutive earthquakes - a reminder that Sumatra is one of the most seismically active regions on earth. The landscape on the west coast was then again dominated by endless oil palm plantations. At one point I saw an area that had just been cleared to plant new rows of palm trees: not a tree left as far as the horizon, just brown earth, and not a single animal left, not even monkeys. A sight difficult to bear. In some front gardens I saw monkeys tied with chains, looking at me sadly. How can you keep such an intelligent animal like this? The empathy of the owners has to be very low. At the latest when I drove past a cockfight in a village, being watched by adults and children, I realized that in almost no other place I have traveled to so far is animal welfare in particular and environmental awareness in general as low as it is here.

In Bengkulu I then reached Fort Marlborough. This early 18th century structure was one of the largest fortifications of the legendary British East India Company. All the earthquakes of the past 300 years were unable to harm the very massive walls. I then experienced a nicer end to my stay on Sumatra in the Bukit Barisan Selatan National Park. There I was able to find the different stages of development of the giant rafflesia, the largest flower in the world, in the rainforest. Rafflesia lives as a parasite on lianas. Like the fruiting body of a mushroom, you only see the flower of the Rafflesia, but it is even more gigantic. In conversations with the rangers, I learned, among other things, that even the people who have been working here for a long time have never seen a tapir in the wild - they can only trace the animals' presence based on tracks and feces. As in Malaysia, it is almost impossible to spot a tapir while cycling through the rainforest. In Bandar Lampung I was greeted and received very friendly by the Federalists there around Gadar. An exciting but also exhausting month in Sumatra ended for me.

Java: accompanied across the adventure island

Java - the most pleasant thing about this island for me was that I was traveling there again with a companion after five months and 8,000 kilometers alone. Shortly after my arrival in the far west of Java, I met Gatot and the Federalists of Cilegon. And they “handed me over” the next day to the Federalists of Serang and they in turn handed me over the same day to the Federalists of Tangerang, a suburb of Jakarta. The Federalists in Tangerang are led by Rai. He is the first contact person among the Federalists for many international cyclists and has excellent connections throughout Indonesia. At this point I would like to thank the two German cyclists Rebecca and Elias (https://findpenguins.com/5xxwvefxgs1au/trip/warm-nights-cold-showers), who put me in touch with Rai. That same evening, a few Federalists and I set off in a pick-up truck to the port of Jakarta to pick up Jade and her touring bike “Raja”. Jade (Instagram: @cestjade.dl) comes from near Bruges in Belgium and has an exciting journey so far: started as a “classic” backpacker in Southeast Asia, at some point during the trip she decided to switch to the bicycle. In Bangkok she bought a used touring bike, which has accompanied her ever since. She started this cycling trip without any major planning, just like that - no problem, because the last year and a half has taught me that all plans go down the drain at some point anyway. And that is also a message for everyone who is thinking about starting a “small tour” themselves: thorough, detailed and thoughtful planning before the trip is pretty much the last thing you need... Jade arrived now at the port of Jakarta with a ferry from Batam and from now on our goal was to reach Bali in the next few weeks. Since my visa for Indonesia wasn't getting any younger (and I had already spent a month in Sumatra) and the area around Jakarta is, well, not the most suitable environment for cycling, we decided to hitchhike to Yogyakarta on the south coast of Java. Since our plan was initially crowned with little success, we first took a bus to Bandung, where the next day Federalist Aep and a police officer who happened to be there helped us to actually find a truck that would take us to Yogyakarta (usually only called “Yogya” in Indonesia). Our bikes and bags were lifted onto the truck loaded with plastic canisters by the two drivers. We were initially supposed to sit in the driver's cab, but thankfully Jade was persistent and charming enough to convince them that we could ride on top of the canisters in the truck bed ("You always got a no, a yes you can get. “, as her mother used to say). An unforgettable twelve-hour trip, high above the road, began. We drove through the midday sun through the surrounding landscape of palm gardens, banana trees, rice fields and small villages. The streets were bustling with activity and we were towering over it all. There were big grins on our faces, the wind around our heads and the treetops and sky above us. The party lasted late into the night. There was still a lot of activity on and off the streets in the towns. I lay on the canisters and looked up. Black treetops raced across the dark gray night sky, one after the other. Jade sang along. A magical moment. Shortly after midnight we reached the center of Yogya, where we were unloaded.

During the two days in Yogya we learned how batik artworks are created and prepared the bikes for the coming stages. From Yogya we cycled to Parangtritis beach. A beautifully wild beach, but not entirely without danger: swimming is forbidden due to the currents and there were a number of poisonous Portuguese man o’ war washed up on the sand. Before continuing the journey the next morning, I was cleaning the dark beach sand from the rims on Jade's bike so that they wouldn't be destroyed when she brakes (incidentally, one of the main reasons why I use disc brakes). While I was doing this, a small, orange cat suddenly came to me from my left, apparently only about two months old. “Smush,” as we later called her, was immediately very affectionate. There was no one in sight in the forest, no house or property. And no mother cat. We decided to take Smush to a vet. And we were lucky: on Google Maps we found a veterinary only about nine kilometers away from us. The friendly vet was at home, looked after Smush and agreed to take Smush in as her eleventh cat and to look for a home for her locally. As we continued on, we had to climb an extremely steep climb in the midday heat - not the best timing. In the late afternoon we reached the village of Widoro, where we were allowed to spend the night in the mayor's house. Thank you for the hospitality! The next day, Jade observed a man on the side of the road poking around in a treetop with a long stick with a kind of funnel attached to the end. He explained to us that he collects ants as bait for fishing. When he started poking, all the ants in the treetop suddenly launched a defensive attack and fell down from the leaves - including on us. Suddenly it started to poke everywhere! We tried to get out of the war zone quickly, but we continued to be attacked by hidden stragglers for quite a while. That evening we asked again in a front yard if we could camp there and ended up at the mayor's house again (or his direct neighbor, Manchu). Manchu is a doctor of Islamic law, an imam and a masseur. A strange combination. Once inside he massaged Jade's left leg and my neck. He was brutal. He took no prisoners. He didn't stop early. It was almost like exorcism. But it felt good afterward. The next night we slept on a lookout tower right on the beautiful Pacitan Beach. In Pacitan we also briefly visited the local Catholic community and a volleyball tournament. During our lunch break, Jade learned to play chess pretty quickly. In Trenggalek in East Java we stayed with the Federalists for the last time, where we were again given a very friendly welcome. Our next stop was the city of Blitar. Through Yayan from the Catholic community in Pacitan, we were allowed to spend the night in the church in Blitar. Young priest Mia showed us the city center in the evening. The next morning Jade, who had recently worked as a vegetarian chef in Belgium, had her first cooking lesson in an Indonesian restaurant whose owner is a member of the church community. After her work, we were able to enjoy fried tempeh (fermented soybeans) and tofu. The next night we camped in a front garden and the following day we stayed with Warmshowers host Chandra and his friendly family. The next morning we set off with Chandra to a nearby viewing mountain, from which we had a good view of the Semeru volcano. When visibility is good, you can also see the Indian Ocean from here and can therefore see the entire area of back-arc volcanism. The Australian plate out under the sea is pushing under Java and sliding toward the Earth's mantle. The plate melts and some of the now liquid rock rises with water and gases, where it forms the volcanic chains of the Indonesian islands. At that moment, a cloud of gas rose from the summit of Semeru. From Chandra's home we explored the two beautiful and impressive waterfalls Kapas Biru and Tumpak Sewu. This was also the first time after a month and a half in Indonesia that I met other tourists again - an absolute rarity in Sumatra and West Java. In the evening we were invited to a large Islamic community prayer in the neighborhood. The women prepared the food while the smoking men gathered in two living rooms. The prayer lasted about half an hour and included singing and chanting. Afterwards there was food and then the whole thing was over again.

Now we had actually planned to climb the famous Bromo volcano with our bikes and ride or push through the ash fields up there. Unfortunately, the summit region was closed to the public the day before because a bushfire was raging there, which was apparently started with torches during a wedding photo shoot. Absolutely irresponsible. Instead we headed for the sea coast again. There we were rewarded with a wonderful, empty beach. Above the beach, some workers sorted gravel by hand (!) according to grain size so that the stones can be used in concrete production. We shared our salak fruits and bananas with them and were invited to spend the night in their camp as a thank you. During the day, during our time in East Java, we ate most of the time “nasi pecel”: rice with a peanut sauce, usually accompanied by tempeh or tofu. Over the next few days we gradually approached the volcanic cone of Mount Ijen - our “replacement volcano” for the missing Bromo. The night at 1,800 meters was pretty cold outside. Before sunrise we set off to climb the summit. Along the way we were rewarded with views of the cloud cover below us as the sun rose over the turquoise crater lake. We then cycled the last few kilometers on Java over a very steep descent to the Ketapang ferry port, where we boarded the ferry to Bali.

Bali: the hard landing

It's certainly difficult to find improvement after spending time on Java. And Bali certainly didn't help anyway. Yes, the island is the only Indonesian island to have this special influence of Hinduism and is one of the most famous travel destinations in Southeast Asia. And the latter is exactly where the big problem lies. While we were greeted happily by pretty much every passer-by in Java (and previously also in Sumatra), here we are just anonymous tourists among many. Since we had different plans for the days in Bali, we cycled in separate directions from Gilimanuk and then met again for a few days in Bali's capital Denpasar. I cycled first along the north coast and then along the east coast to the greater Denpasar area. Yes, there were scenic parts, but otherwise the island is very densely populated. And the price level can be very “adapted to the circumstances” depending on the location. Sometimes a normal serving of nasi goreng was quoted six times the price compared to Java and Sumatra. This paragraph is therefore kept quite short. Worth mentioning is a small but nice country road on the extreme eastern tip of Bali. There you can look out over the strait between Bali and Lombok. While Bali was still connected to Java, Sumatra and finally the Eurasian mainland a few thousand years ago, Lombok was already isolated, which is why the flora on Bali is still Asian, but on Lombok it is already influenced by Australian Oceania. This phenomenon is called “Wallace line”. After a year and a half of traveling, I had now arrived here at the last outpost in Eurasia. In Denpasar, Jade then sold her bicycle Raja because it no longer fit into her future plans. She will spend another month in Indonesia and then head to Australia to work there for some time. She will then cycle back to Belgium from India or Mongolia on a new touring bike - I will be following this with great interest. Since my Indonesia visa was finally expiring, I had to pack up the touring bike again and take the flight to New Zealand: the country furthest away from Germany. I had to say goodbye to Jade, which was very hard for me. She is a kind-hearted good person and has motivated me several times to leave my comfort zone. Until our paths cross again, I wish her all the best and exciting experiences!

About cycling on this section

Sumatra: When I arrived on the central east coast in Dumai, I first cycled on minor roads via Duri to Bangkinang. The roads were mostly in fairly good condition, but were also often busy. The air quality was often very poor, which is why I was happy to have reached the Barisan Mountains from Bangkinang. On the road to Payakumbuh I finally crossed the equator. The road was mostly very passable and not too busy. The rest of the route from Payakumbuh via Solok, Galagah and Padang Aro to Sungai Penuh included some steep and long climbs that I would definitely not tackle in the midday heat. The small road through the rainforest from Sungai Penuh to Tapan was pretty much one of the most beautiful routes I've ever ridden on a bike - beautiful scenery and a perfect descent! On the west coast of Sumatra I stayed on the main road from Tapan via Bengkulu and Krui to Bandar Lampung. This route is a hard edge. You can hardly see the coast, instead you walk through oil palm plantations for days. And although none of the hills are over 200 m high, there are usually over 1,000 meters of elevation gain per 100 km. The (short) climbs are sometimes very steep. From Bandar Lampung I then cycled via Kalianda to the Bakau ferry port. Here, too, there were several meters of altitude. The supply situation on Sumatra was okay. Most of the time there was a warung (small street restaurant) or a small shop not far away. In general, cycling in Sumatra was challenging due to the climate, the countless climbs and the bad air.

Java and Bali: From Cilegon in western Java to Jakarta (or Tangerang) I always cycled with a few local “Federalists”. They always chose the main road and never smaller side routes. Cycling in Jakarta is tough. The traffic density is brutally tight at almost any time of the day and there are traffic jams basically everywhere. It's completely unclear to me how one can endure this situation every day. We then bridged the route from Jakarta to Yogyakarta (“Yogya”) with a bus to Bandung and hitchhiking from Bandung to Yogya. From Yogya we then cycled, mostly more or less near the south coast, via Pacitan, Slahung, Trenggalek, Blitar, Gunungsriti, Kencong and Jember to the easternmost end of Java in Ketapang. The roads in East Java are always a bit busy, but they are often beautifully situated and generally good to cycle on. The “Obelix Hill” (that's really what it's called) east of Parangtritis is short but extremely steep throughout. We divided the climb to Mount Ijen from Jember in the west via Sukosari over two days. The descent towards Banyuwangi is extremely steep and quite dangerous in the upper section. This section goes through the rainforest, which is why the road was wet in our case. On heavily loaded touring bikes, everything with brakes and tires should be just right, otherwise things can end badly. We also had to take two short breaks to cool the brake discs and rims. The road along the north coast and east coast is passable but mostly very uneventful. A small highlight was the coastal road between Amed and Amlapura, which also includes some steep climbs. Cycling in Denpasar was fine and not too hectic, but the western suburbs like Canggu can be very narrow and hectic.