Day 115 - an avalanche of misdirection; 90 km to the good. - Unfinished Business

August 23, 2023

Day 115 - an avalanche of misdirection; 90 km to the good.

I'm the first to admit that Indonesia has worn me out. Yesterday, I passed another tourer, Matthias, with whom I have been communicating. He's the fellow who had eight onlookers as he ate a nasi goreng. He got a glimpse of me in heavy traffic but I missed him. I'm sure that we would have spoken about the negative aspects of cycling here. They really are overwhelming for me. Thus, in Sumatra, I'm taking the easy way - just heading north.

An amusing thing about Indonesia is that if, as a single person, you pay for a room that's for two, they give you two breakfast tickets. That's terrific for the touring cyclist. The breakfast here is nasi goreng with a couple of eggs, outside on a terrace overlooking the city. Each serving has two stone-cold fried eggs. Why cold, I don't know! Three eggs was enough for me; I gave the other to a heavily pregnant cat. That will surprise people who know me!

The air quality is poor - vehicles and smoke. The one difference I've seen in Sumatra is a lot more trucks belching black. Fortunately, I'll be on relatively flat roads.

This hotel is luxury for me but it still has deficiencies - a ceiling with severe water damage, a sink and tub that don't drain, dripping taps. I know about this stuff; it can be fixed!

Those two breakfasts saved me today. I pulled into a hotel after 7.30, in the dark, chafed backside, but otherwise good. I had half-decided to sleep rough but I was unsure of finding some peace. Thus, as dark was encroaching, I did another 25 km, backtracking to where it all fell apart around 2 pm. And when it all falls apart I don't have many photos. But I do have some. I did what I never do - rode at night.

Now, here's something interesting: I'd much rather ride at night here than in Australia. roads here are a riot of vehicles of differing sizes and shapes, from a fellow pushing his food cart through to the odd semi-trailer. There are many without lights. Thus, drivers are not just looking for a big square box with four wheels; they're looking for the fellow, wearing black, pushing a motorcycle that's run out of fuel.

So, I got back on track, looked up hotels and found one, very close, that even serves a vegetarian breakfast. I went the short distance and there was no such place. It closed years ago, apparently. So, that's two hotels and a restaurant in the last two days that don't exist. But they do get good reviews. Why didn't I phone? Jump on your bike, pedal here and you will see why. I saw an ATM and decided to tick off that task. While there I enquired about hotels. A couple of young fellows said there was one very close - Hotel Mandarin.

The first thing I did was have shower. As I did, a fellow banged on the door of the room. I yelled and kept showering. He kept banging, dozens of times. He was dropping off water!

Back to the start of the day. My bike had been moved overnight and I discovered an open quick-release on the rear wheel. Lucky I saw it, I guess. Rather than use my personal app, I let Komoot pick a way out of Bandur Lampang, from a point where I was a little unsure. What a mistake! I didn't want laneways with speed bumps, 47 turns and views of local trains, nice as they are.

I turned right at the roundabout before the mosque. It's second nature to me now.

I stopped to admire the roadside art and quite liked the view.

This is one advertisement of many, each made with plastic flowers.

There must have been ten ambulances at this roundabout. Advanced planning or profound pessimism? I think this is where I consulted Komoot.

Footpaths are frightening things in Asia. Being slippery is the least of the worry here. It's concerning that you need a ladder to get on them and that they go nowhere. That said, people don't walk, so who cares anyway?

If I'd been where I wanted to be - on top, I would have missed this display.

After an hour, I was hot and had 10 km to show for it. You stay much cooler in the tropics by keeping a good speed. Vendors were selling pineapples and I couldn't resist. I chose the right vendor - not only did she want to be photographed but she also directed the proceedings. I might add that the pineapples are brilliant.

I was finally on my way but stopped for some more roadside art.

I long for the time when the ocean looked like this.

I rattled off the kms and had quickly done 50, stopping only to drink and to take a photograph. A big difference in Sumatra is that the road signage is rather poor. I long for a paper map so that I can easily identify the next town. Every so often, I saw Pallembang mentioned, so that made me relax.

Is this that bit of rebellion I've been looking for?

They dry cassava tubers on huge bare areas, often concrete, grind it and then bag it. The smell is unpleasant, sickly sweet.

The field of dreams in front of the first palm oil plantation I've seen in Sumatra.

Horses or elephants, I don't care what drags me to Singapore.

I have no idea what this parade was about but it went awry when I stopped 50 m away. They lost their focus and concentrated on waving. If only I had taken a good look at the intersecting roads.

This is the sort of place that we'd stop at in Australia to look at birds. I wouldn't here because I rarely hear birdsong.

It was somewhere along this stretch that I saw the most disturbing sight. A fellow with horribly contorted legs was dragging himself along. He had thongs on his hands. Later on, as I was backtracking, everything seemed a bit tough. I'd have to be kidding. The really unfortunate thing is that it looked as though he'd had an accident and never had bones set properly. What could I do but give him money?

On my tour west of where I wanted to be I saw some interesting stuff.

Here are the pipes that make life miserable for me as a touring cyclist. They're not just for motorcycles, I see the small double one (bottom right) fitted to many minibuses. It gives a loud whistle when accelerating.

I was on a piece of new road for a time that had a rather large drop at the edge. If you went off you'd want to do it well!

I like to have an Icon water bottle for measuring verge heights.

All over Indonesia there are voluntary traffic controllers. They wander into the road and stop the traffic so that vehicles can get out of a side road or a parking spot. They rely on tips. I thought that this fellow could direct me when I sensed things were wrong. He told me that I was heading for . Pallembang. I wasn't.

I watched this game of 5 a side for a few minutes.

I called on Komoot to redirect me. Of course it could.

I was very happy to reach this sealed road, but I soon cut my losses and turned back.

As I returned to the main road, I cycled through a village with interesting houses, often with temples.

It was after 8 that I was sitting back with a cup of tea and coffee in Hotel Mandarin, a capacious place with horses at the front, a grand atrium, stunning decore and a handful of guests.

It was after 9 that I went in search of food. My eyes lit up when I saw a wok and cooked rice, veg, eggs, tofu. I said "nasi goreng". The woman shook her head. I got a good one down the road.

I'll enter today's ride in the register of tricky days. That extra 50 km is 3.5% of what I need in Sumatra.

Today's ride: 144 km (89 miles)
Total: 8,144 km (5,057 miles)

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