The trip to Bukit Lawang, although only 80 km, took us all morning. This may have had to do with our extremely lazy getting up, or with the decadently long breakfast at Dunkin’ Donuts. But it surely had to do with the fact that it was Sunday, as well. Sunday meant that although Medan itself was quiet, the only road out that way was not. The region and Bukit Lawang are a common day trip for smog chocked Medanese.

Not even 10 meters beyond the welcome sign of Bukit Lawang we were swarmed by hawkers. “Can I help you?” “Which hotel?” … my tolerance for rubbish has worn mighty thin after 50 days in Indonesia, so we left it to brisk answers and avoided eye contact. For some reason the sale’s pitch under the pretence of altruism gets me extra riled up. Luckily, we got left alone after a couple of moments of our silence treatment to sort out accommodation ourselves.

The place that caught our fancy the most was called “Back to Nature”, supposedly sitting within 80 ha of privately preserved rainforest on the edge of the Gunung Leuser National Park. The Lonely Planet was a bit vague whether a road would lead to the place, so we called to find out. No, no road would lead there, but we could park our bike in town and a guide would pick us up from there. Hmm …

Suria, our guide, arrived just a couple of minutes later. He suggested we should have a bite to eat before heading out (it was noon by now). Hmm … How long to the place? Just 30 to 45 min. Ok … still, food sounded right. During lunch we tried to find out a bit more about what, where and how. The big ticket item, at least for Westerners, is the daily Orangutan feeding, a little bit into the park on the other side of the river. Thus hit the bombshell – not quite willing to get it out right away, we prodded Suria to find out that the feeding is closed until further notice. A big flood hit the village a week ago and the boat to ferry visitors across got washed away (more on that flood to come). Wow … what now?

There were two things we could do to still get a chance on seeing Orangutans here. One would be a guided hike into the national park, which would be way out of our budget and probably our available time as well. The other, with a small chance of a sighting, would be to still go to “Back to Nature”. Their garden has attracted some of the big apes and they get visited 2-3 times a week. Plus, it would still be a night in the jungle, something I had not done as of yet. Nina was doubtful to sad, but in the end went along. Maybe it was Suria’s inexhaustible cheerfulness filled with catchy one-liners that pushed her over the edge.

So we stored our bike and our gear at a place in the village and started walking along the river. We had what we thought we needed distributed between our and another borrowed backpack. Spoiler alert, we would have needed different things. A couple of hundred meters in I accepted that I would not have gotten Rocinante through here. A small bike coming up a staircase tipped me over the edge (if only I’d known). The path follows behind a row of houses and the wall of the gorge. The houses are strung along on the river’s edge. Where the houses ended, the walkway turned into a hiking path – ok, surely no way to get the bike here.

Behind the next bend, the hiking path abruptly ended in a broken staircase and the brown river hitting a cliff face on our side. This was the place where the boat over to the feeding station was moored until last week. Someone with a lorry’s inner tube had joined us a moment ago. With continued cheerfulness we were told that the tube is for us, the only way forward is through the water and it is about chest high. Great! Remember the things we packed for the day? Guess what, swim trunks and a change of pants were not among them! Our gear was carried over and we made it with newly soaked butts. It was warm alright, but having your only change of clothes wet is not the most charming of starts. “Is this the only place where we cross?” “Sure brother, don’t worry be happy! Welcome to the jungle!” On we went, but I had a certain suspicion. The map to the place showed two river crossings via cable bridges ahead. Rubber tube guy kept on following us …

Soon, we came upon the first cable – but instead of spanning the brown floods, it was blocking the path on our side, ending somewhere behind us in the water. Last bit through the water, yeah right! The flood that hit the village also destroyed sections of the path from here on and both cable bridges. To get there, we would need to cross 20m of river twice. I am still not sure what kept Nina from snapping right there. Instead we both embraced the sheer weirdness of the whole thing and went along. Down to our underwear we went. My only worry, and it was a huge one, was about our packs. Mine held all our major electronics – laptop, camera etc. and we had brought no waterproofing.  Turned out that my worries were well founded. Suria, while carrying the pack across, stepped into a hole and sunk in to the chest, holding the pack over his head for dear life. He made it …

Before we plonked ourselves into the rubber tube, we saw a couple of tourists (recognizable by the white skin) getting ready to raft down the river in a make-shift raft out of four inner tubes tied together. It looked like considerably more fun than trying to hike upstream through the river. We stored that information in the back of our minds for the way back tomorrow.

Then Nina, who was struggling with the strong current even in knee-high water, was dragged to the other side. It took both guys and some floating through the strongest current to make it. I was next and though I made it further than Nina on my own, the current was something to be wary off. Again, we both had wet undies and, this time, also wet shirts. Afterwards, Suria and Mekah (tube guy) needed a smoking break.

From here, it really wasn’t too far to the guest house anymore. It looked very charming with all the furniture made out of (drift)wood, overlooking the river. We got a welcome tea which tasted a lot like Christmas with spices like clove and aniseed. After already being dragged through the river three times, we didn’t feel like going for a swim and, instead, had a shower under the waterfall which turned out to be very, very cold.

Sitting around, reading, we were called by one of the staff as a group of macaques climbed along the other river side. It was cool to see monkeys in the wild. They even went for a swim in a separated puddle which had almost no current; surprisingly good swimmers, all of them.

I felt a bit restless so I went through the gardens on a little guided tour but without seeing any apes or monkeys. Ikbal, another staff guy, arrived with some supplies and stories about his own motorcycle.

It got dark when we had dinner so the generator was turned on. The whole place lit up beautifully!