Category Archives: Indonesia

Day 153 – Stats 104 Indonesia

That's right, we survived Indonesia :)

That’s right, we survived Indonesia 🙂

By now, we’ve gotten a holiday “rhythm” with a nice long breakfast, some light reading before lunch, lunch and then an afternoon nap to relax from the exhaustion. 😉

Also, there is always the pool if you really need a distraction. We are coming to the end of our special trip to Thailand in a couple of days so Nina, at least, maximized here time with a book.

Which leaves time and space for me to get to the mildly overdue Indonesia summary post.

Country data #4: Indonesia

Full screen version of the map

  • 7324 km traveled (7201 km of GPS tracked)
  • 46 travel days, 55 days total
  • $19.94 Average cost per night (48x room, 1x camping, 6x invitation)
  • 401.99l of standard fuel for $  348.98 (5.4 l / 100km)
  • ~$18.11 for food every day, always eating out with some invitations
  • ~$4.780 in total

All $ values are converted to NZD.

Day 142 – The Last Hop or Eurasia, here we come!

Don't like handing over my bike ...

Don’t like handing over my bike …

The whole shipping our bike on a passenger ferry made us nervous. There was no guaranty that it would work and just last week, a traveller we know (going from London to NZ) was refused because his bike was too big to fit through the door and now he’s stuck in Kuala Lumpur with no way across to Sumatra.

Thus, our night was short. Flo was up from 2am, I joined at 5am. Mr Ade called again at 7am to make sure that we had “the money” and we felt as if we were in a bad mafia movie. We had “the money” and now we were going to “the harbour” with it to meet “our fixer”. The wire anyone?

We arrived at the ferry terminal at 8am which was an hour earlier than Mr Ade told us to be there. He, however, was there already and started the procedure right away. Our luggage was carried onto the pier (with now ferry in sight there yet) and then, one of the staff insisted on driving Rocinante onto the pier. Flo would have preferred to drive our bike himself but he wasn’t allowed.

The Agent, hard at work with his other clients ...

The Agent, hard at work with his other clients …

We had a basic breakfast in the waiting area before being picked up by Mr Ade for some special bule treatment. Got our passenger ferry tickets and then had our passports stamped as proof that we left Indonesia way before anyone else. We then proceeded to be the first ones on the ferry. One of the staff took us to the storage to show us all our luggage was on board but Rocinante had to remain on the pier until all passengers had boarded.

The ferry was one of the high speed kind but it smelled pretty badly. Fish, urine and the sight of cockroaches mingled for the next two hours while we waited for everyone else to come on board. Since we were leaving one country and entering a new one, everyone had to go through customs to have their passports checked and stamped which takes forever. Suddenly, we heard commotion from the hallway; Rocinante was being pulled, heaved and dragged onto the boat. I felt much relief when the bike finally was on the same boat as us.

Leaving Tanjungbalai, everyone was served a lunch packet. It contained a pile of plain rice and a piece of fish. Flo had “luck” and a whole fish’s head in his one.

safety what?

safety what?

The ferry ride was very long. And horrible. Mostly because some of the hawkers had obviously paid so that they could use the announcement system but it was broken and emitted a high-pitched electronic sound for an hour or so which made my head nearly explode. I felt really sick. It got to the point where Flo and I put toilet paper into our ears because we had no access to any other form of earplugs.

We were so happy when we arrived in Port Klang. Just going into the port, you could see how different Malaysia would be to Indonesia. What an enormous, industrial-sized harbour! Wow. On the Malaysian side of customs, we had to queue shortly, leave our fingerprints and declare our goods. As soon as we were through, Mr Ong found us to deal with the Malaysian side of shipping our bike across. This mostly included leaving our carnet de passage with a customs officer and going to pay Mr Ong his share. He wanted another RM350 which is RM150 more than we were told. Again, we had no other choice than to pay. we were “graciously” given a discount of RM50. At least we got a receipt for this fee…

We had to stay back ... safety and all ... yeah right.

We had to stay back … safety and all … yeah right.

Then we were allowed access to Rocinante. The customs officer checked the engine number and other things before stamping it. Our luggage still had to be x-rayed. Finally, we were at the point when we strapped everything back to the bike and left the harbour. It was getting late and it was another 50km to our bed.

Riding out of the harbour, we fell in love with Malaysian roads. Great roads. Big roads. Almost like the autobahn. Functioning traffic lights. No honking. No one trying to kill us. Motorbikes are not only allowed on the motorway, they get their own on-ramp so they can bypass the toll station. Motorbikes can use the motorway for free. It all looked so great. Sun was slowly setting when we made our way into Kuala Lumpur. What a pretty city!

Getting darker, but everyting is nicely illuminated.

Getting darker, but everyting is nicely illuminated.

And then we had to face the difficulties of a life without a proper SIM card yet. Our GPS didn’t know Sonja’s address. Without SIM card, we couldn’t google it and instead had to ask for directions on the way there. Took a wrong turn and ended up back on the motorway. *sigh* It was dark when we arrived at the gated community. Security asked for our swipe card…which we didn’t have. Without a SIM card, we couldn’t even call Sonja’s neighbour who had all our access keys. *sigh again* In the end, one of the guards lend us a phone so we could call and while I waited, Flo got accompanied to a phone shop to remedy our “no SIM card” plight once and for all.

Barely human anymore, we entered Sonja’s flat at 9pm. Tired, exhausted and filthy as.

If everything goes according to plan, this was the last shipping we had to do. We now have made our way from New Zealand onto the Eurasian continent. From here on out, we are crossing land borders. HELLO EURASIA! *wohooo*

Day 141 – Flight mode

In a sudden turn of events, we found ourselves in the same Dunkin’ Donuts outlet having the same breakfast as two days ago. Although this time, I was on the phone sorting out a new credit card (forgot mine at the ATM and the bank did not find it). Glad I am still with an NZ bank, everything is so dead easy.

The remaining distance to the harbour in Tanjungbalai is about 190 km. After a bit of a painful slog through the suburbs of Medan, we hit the overland route down the coast. It seems to be a general issue in Indonesia that traffic is worst in a ring around the city proper. Inside, there are dual lane thoroughfares and arterial roads. But further out, urban growth meets underfunded communities and single lane overland highways get swallowed by urban sprawls, leading to an utter collapse at times.

It once again took almost all day to get there. With just riding and a short lunch break, we arrived in Tanjungbalai at 2 pm. The ride was uneventful but also a bit typical for the last two month. We were either going 100 km/h with little traffic through palm plantations and fields, or breaking as hard as we could to avoid interchangeably overloaded Chinese trucks going 30 km/h or oncoming traffic overtaking on our side (preferably buses). We both started fantasizing about Malaysian motorways.

Nina’s comment: The sheer amount of attempts to kill us on this road were staggering. Cars get stuck behind slow vehicles and if they see only a motorbike coming towards them, they will pull out to overtake while flashing their lights at you, communicating “I am committed to overtaking. If you don’t want to die, better get off the road”. It doesn’t matter to them that Rocinante is as wide as a car…

Flo joined into the frenzy

Flo joined into the frenzy

In town, I went with the GPS coordinates provided by Dean in a thread on Horizons Unlimited. The harbour is in the filthiest area I have seen in my life up to this point. The stench of rotting fish and feces hung over it and it evoked images from Gangs of New York. Overall, Tanjungbalai is probably the rattiest place we have been to, yet. It pretty much never seems to see any bule. Wherever we stopped, people started begging. We could not wait to get out.

The ferry terminal was closed, but we contacted Mr Ade, a local agent / fixer familiar with getting motorbikes through and sorted out the carnet de passage while we were waiting. When Ade did arrive, he was a bit miffed that we had done so on our own and explained there is nothing more to do today. Meet-up at the port would be tomorrow 9 am. He then insisted on getting us to a hotel – tired and exhausted we followed him on a wild ride through town.

Our bike being returned to a sparkly self. It cost us $4 to get it done

Our bike being returned to a sparkly self. It cost us $4 to get it done

The suggested place looked derelict, but we were too knackered. In hindsight, we should have trusted our instincts there. So we checked in to the overpriced dungeon of filth and started our daily routine. After my shower I went to find a place to wash the bike to prepare it for a potential day on deck of a boat. There was one place just across the street – when Rocinate came back, we almost did not recognize her. All sparkly and shiny 🙂

When I was back, Nina casually asked me what all the sand in the bed was about. I got a bad feeling and sure enough moments later I found the first bedbug running from my probing. It was not sand but thousands of bedbug eggs littering the bed. Needless to say, we ran. The landlady tried to move us to another room, which looked even worse, but we were out of there.

Rocinante sleeping in the hallway of our hotel

Rocinante sleeping in the hallway of our hotel

The next hotel was moldy and overpriced as well, but at least free of creepy crawlies living in the mattress, so exhausted as we were we stayed. We even could park our bike inside the hall in front of our room.

With another hour wasted, we only wanted some food and then get to bed to be ready for tomorrow. Just two doors down we found a yard with a bunch of obviously Chinese-run businesses and were warmly invited to have a seat. One of the patrons spoke English very well and we got talking. A cook was called and we got offered some fruit while we were waiting. It was an interesting conversation with a glimpse on the perspective of the many Chinese immigrants in Indonesia. The food was great, but a little decadent. I had fresh giant prawns and a chicken dish, Nina had a deep fried tofu hot plate. So good.

The day ended with a frustrating phone call by the agent and his niece translating for him. The price negotiations were frustratingly one sided. This is currently the only known route for overland bikers and the parties involved know they are sitting on a monopoly. The final price was 40% higher than what the last traveler paid, but it was a take it or leave it offer …

Day 140 – Jingle Bells in Bukit Lawang

The recommendation from our guides was to get up early to increase or chances to see Orangutans. When we got downstairs, a macaque jumped away, having stolen something from the kitchen. Despite being watchful, we didn’t see any more apes or monkeys.

Giving it pieces of banana

Giving it pieces of banana

Until we had banana pancakes for breakfast. Then, a “funky monkey” (I don’t actually know what kind of monkey it was) appeared to join in the breakfast. We fed it a bit and took pictures but I refrained from touching it.

After breakfast, we went on a walk through the garden. It is quite steep and full of fruit trees just for the apes and monkeys. Suria pointed to many a tree and said “never had fruit from this one, the monkeys get there first”. Well, it’s the whole point of the garden to give the apes a variety of things to pick from. We sat down on a giant “jungle umbrella” leaf and waited for over an hour but no Orangutans appeared. It was a long shot to begin with.

It was very peaceful, though, to look at the wall of green on the other side of the river and hear some of the birds call.

It kept hanging around to wait on more banana

It kept hanging around to wait on more banana

Back at the lodge, we packed our things. Rafting back to Bukit Lawang was scheduled for 11am and the inner tubes were already being tied together. Down in the main area, we now had the company of four “funky monkeys” who were waiting on an opportunity to get into the kitchen. Most likely to steal more food.

Our full backpacks were put into double plastic bags which then were tied down very tightly so the whole thing looked very secure. Our shoes were in the pack as well this time so we would just have one set of wet clothes in the end and a whole bag full of dry clothes still with the motorcycle. And off we went!

Our rafting trip was accompanied by Suria who sat in front to steer and look out for dangers. Then us two on the middle tube, feet and legs hanging over the rim and Merah in the back, also with a staff for steering. Ikbal hopped on the left side of our tube and double-functioned as a human shield: Whenever we got close to rocks, he would use his feet to push us away from them, so the tubes never actually hit a rock.

The guys transported some of the empty equipment back so we had an empty gas bottle hanging from the back tube as well. You could hear the “clonk” sometimes when it hit something.

...hell yeah! Our awesome make-shift raft!

…hell yeah! Our awesome make-shift raft!

Rafting was fun. The three guys had so much fun that it felt a bit like they were doing it for themselves which was great. They were laughing and singing a song that had the melody of Jingle bells but lyrics saying something about watching monkeys in Bukit Lawang while they were getting soaked, smashed and bruised. Their good mood never left them. The river has some decent rapids where Flo and I got pretty thoroughly soaked but it also has parts where the bed is wide and the water level thus shallow. The “jungle taxi” faced quite some “traffic jams” when the guys had to jump off and drag us back into deeper water.

Seeing the hiking path from the river, it definitely made more sense to take this route back. Soon we were close to the village again. Suria had told us about a flood just over a week ago but the damage was only really comprehensible if you see it from the river. Whole concrete flood walls had been torn down, bridges and bits of buildings were still lying in the river and had to be navigated while parts of buildings were still standing on the verge of collapsing or falling into the river. Guest houses with half a room open to the river because the other half had been torn away; guest houses with doors leading straight into the river because the veranda had been taken. Seeing this massive destruction, we could understand how the only boat ferrying visitors across to the Orangutan feeding station might have been lost in the flood and why this is a fact the guides are reluctant to share. Now, maybe more than ever, the money tourists bring in is needed. With 75% of tourists coming exclusively to see Orangutans, it is a hard hit that the boat is gone and hasn’t been replaced yet.

We stopped at a pile of rubble over which we could climb out of the river. All our things had made it in one piece and dry while we had made it in one piece and soaking wet. Out of the water, Flo commented very silently that this rafting could have gone bad quite easily with concrete and steel cables in the water but we both chose not to think about it for long. We did have three human shields as bad as it sounds…

Ikbal and his custom-made trike

Ikbal and his custom-made trike

For the next hour, we were occupied with getting back on the road. Changed into a set of dry clothes, packed all our luggage again so it could be strapped onto the bike, had a snack of deep fried tofu, tempe, potato and bananas as dessert and left towards Tanjungbalai, the harbour from which we want to ship out of Indonesia.

The first kilometres were a much easier ride than on Sunday as all the day trippers were missing but coming close to Medan, everything ground to a hold. I guess this might be what a rush hour looks like in a city that doesn’t have the infrastructure of Jakarta. The going was very slow and time (aka daylight) was starting to run out on us. So we pulled up on the side, decided on a backpacker in Medan and clawed our way there.

The room was more expensive than we wanted and right at a very busy street but Flo was knackered and we needed to stop. At least wifi was available. We then realized that Flo had lost his credit card two days ago. When we were in Medan last, he must have left it in the ATM when he withdrew money for the Orangutan watching. Being only 4km away from the bank where we must have lost the credit card, we put it on the agenda for tomorrow to go there and ask if anyone had found it.

Day 139 – Surprises, good and bad

We had a lovely breakfast with Boston Cream donuts but couldn't help to notice that "Durian" is a regular flavour...

We had a lovely breakfast with Boston Cream donuts but couldn’t help to notice that “Durian” is a regular flavour…

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.

We went down this way just after a motorcycle came up. No way Rocinante would have made this

We went down this way just after a motorcycle came up. No way Rocinante would have made this

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 …

Our two guys bringing our backpacks to safety first

Our two guys bringing our backpacks to safety first

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.

I was already on land again when the guys went back to get Flo

I was already on land again when the guys went back to get Flo

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.

Macaques taking a bath

Macaques taking a bath

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!

Day 138 – A little bit of nothing

We overslept due to staying up late, talking to Yana and Robin. So instead of catching the ferry at 6am, we got up and had breakfast at 8am. Yummy honey bread rolls with tea/coffee which is not the usual thing you get.

Leaving the lake shore not by ferry but by land...

Leaving the lake shore not by ferry but by land…

After breakfast, we had to deal with a dilemma: The next ferry leaves at 10am or we can drive 50km more and skip the transport across water altogether. Keen on getting back on the road after our rest day, we decided on the latter option. It wasn’t even that frustrating to retrace our steps as it usually is. Going back up into the mountains, we had to deal with a new phenomenon: Bad sight due to low hanging clouds. The resulting mist led to a couple of eerie but beautiful shots of the road.

Neither was it fun to ride on

Neither was it fun to ride on

Then we continued up the western side of the lake to cross over to the other side in the north. This road, leading from the western side of the lake to the eastern side, was the worst road we had been on for a long time. Maybe we have just gone full circle as this road rivalled the ones in Timor-Leste. Every dip, every intersection and every crest was simply gone, replaced by a mud hole full of stones, mud puddles and deep, deep truck ruts. Flo even dropped the bike once, luckily not into a mud puddle so at least we were spared the pig-like look.

One of the hallmark pictures of Sumatra

One of the hallmark pictures of Sumatra

Flo and I were both ready to kiss tarmac again when the “road” ended after 15km and we were back on the proper stuff. The next kilometres flew by until it started to rain. More than a drizzle, not quite a tropical torrent, we stopped at a roadside warung to have a coffee and see if the rain passes or if we have to put on rain gear. The warung food was rather unspectacular (Pop Mie with an egg was on offer) but the coffee and tea were good, hot and sweet. The lady also sold real oreo cookies which we finished in one go to our hot beverage. The best thing about this warung though was that it had a row of windows on the other side, looking out over a valley covered in rain clouds. It looked very much like a picture that might pop into your head if you think “Sumatra”.

Flo got first class treatment at the barber's

Flo got first class treatment at the barber’s

After the break, the rain had stopped. However, with the slow going and the rain break, we were now far behind our planned 300km for today. We kept going for as long as we could but there was no way to make up for the “lost” time. So we changed the plan rather than force it. The city of Medan was the new goal for the night and we found a very efficient, clean but cheap hotel which caters to airport passengers.

On our usual evening stroll looking for food, we came across a Barber shop. It was the first one that we have seen in Indonesia and Flo’s beard badly needed some shape so we went in. It was quite the luxurious treatment: A haircut and trim for the beard and then a hot towel face massage. I started getting a bit jealous of the “feel good” treatment Flo got…

Day 137 – Pleasant interruption

Nina spots all the cats

Nina spots all the cats

Relax and recharge, that is what we proscribed ourselves for today. The sun was out when we crawled out of our room after a decadently long sleep in our King size bed. Falling out of the bed. This was presently followed by an equally decadent breakfast.

After that, we went on a brief stroll around Tuk-Tuk to make use of the sunshine while it lasted. Truly brief though, and soon we were back at our Hotel, hogging Wi-Fi, milling about and doing some light blogging. Around 11 am two outside guests arrived while we were just finishing one of our blog posts. They had been around last night, and I could not help but comment on their rather lavish breakfast order. A brief conversation at shouting distance was sensibly brought to an end when we joined them at their table. Which is also where we spend the rest of the day!

Sorry Robin, 3/4 with eyes closed. I'd say that's a sign of inner calm

Sorry Robin, 3/4 with eyes closed. I’d say that’s a sign of inner calm

It was refreshing to be able to have an intelligent conversation with like minded people. Since Jogja, we were either missing the company or the language skills for it, but it was just the thing to get us in a good mood again. We sat with Germans Yana and Robin all day till 11 pm (way past bedtime for us ancient folk). The two are on a gap year / vacation before starting university. I must say, I was much impressed at the wisdom both of them already possessed – I am not sure if I was that good a company 10 years ago ;). It seems the FSJ (voluntary social service year introduced after the end of the draft) is good for some solid character building.

Thus, the day passed, as food and drink flowed in to keep up our discussions on traveling, politics, life and everything else. Not much to blog about really, other than to say that we had a great time. Maybe we will even meet the two of them again later on our trip.

Day 136 – Danau Toba

Having wifi for a night helped a lot with uploading our many, many pictures. So we didn’t mind too much that we had to go out and look for food. Despite our previous experience in Indonesia, many of the food stalls were actually open at 6.45am. With lontong and nasi gurih we had the typical cooked meal for breakfast, something I can now eat but will probably never really appreciate.

Back at our hotel, we got another round of coffee and tea with a plate full of sweet things…I am unsure why they told us that breakfast wasn’t included.

Rocinante had made it through the night in one piece. It was one of these rare occasion when we had to park her just off the street rather than in a private yard or behind a gate. When we had come back from dinner last night, two of the hotel staff had tried to move her which gave us both nearly a heart attack. I was quite worried about the bike throughout the evening.

And off we went. Our goal was to make it to Danau Toba today and have a rest day there, given that we have ridden for 11 days straight now and covered about half of Java and 2000km in Sumatra. This far north, we are now in the region of the Christian Batak people. All of a sudden, Christianity and Christmas are back with churches, roadside Christmas trees and the “Selamat Hari Natal & Tahun Baru”.

If you are now wondering how we can make so many kilometres in Sumatra and still have road to go: Sumatra is the sixth largest island in the world.  If you look at a globe, we are now as far away from Wellington as we are from Frankfurt.

Flo's boots after a bit with a landslide

Flo’s boots after a bit with a landslide

Roadwise, we are back on the “main road” which is still mostly mud these days (ok, the occasional but very bad muddy bit). Flo was happy that we still have the Heidenau tyres on as they give us good grip on the most grimy surfaces. Landslides occur often in the rain so today we actually gave some money to the workers clearing the way because if they hadn’t, we would have been stuck.

After lunch, it got cooler and we realized that we were at 1800m above sea level with a nice wind that reminded us of NZ. It didn’t take long and we started to have views down from the high plateau towards Lake Toba and the gigantic island in its middle, about the size of Singapore. The “island” had originally been a peninsula but is now separated from the mainland by a channel with a very short bridge over it.

Looking down on Danau Toba and the island of Samosir

Looking down on Danau Toba and the island of Samosir

Still having to go 50km around the island to its other side, we were getting mighty tired and looking forward to our break from the bike. In the village of Tuk Tuk, there are many guest houses and we had picked one to check out. When we finally arrived and it looked decent, we booked it for two nights and collapsed…for about five minutes. Then chores dawned on us. We organized some laundry as 11 days is stretching our cloths-limit quite a bit. I had ice cream while Flo (“tall and handsome”, remember?) was asked to help carry a generator which looked pretty heavy.

The only other thing we managed today: Have coffee, black tea with real milk and German cake. Yes, there is a German-owned guest house (outside of our price range) with an attached bakery so we got Streuselkuchen and lemon cake. It was sooooooooooooo good! It got even better when the residing cats decided that I was allowed to pat them. 🙂

Day 135 – Duality and decisions

Should we stay or should we go? Follow the Lonely Planet’s tips, Ulrich’s advice or our gut feeling? For the first time in months we have something of a goal ahead: Getting to Kuala Lumpur before our Indonesian visa runs out and fly up to Thailand to visit my dad for a bit. Maybe this is what makes both of us restless. Or the overwhelming size of Sumatra. Where to stop and explore and where to push through? It is too big to try to do all of it justice in the time we have left.

There are 12 days left on our visa, minus a small contingency to avoid putting us into a tight spot at the end in Tajungbalai. Two more things we both want to do for certain: spend a day at Lake Toba and see the Orang Utans at the rehabilitation center in Bukit Lawang. Getting there equals five to six days of riding. So eight days in total, with four days to spare at the end. Another day spend at a location would be on the cards, but in the end, we could not bring us to use it now.

With uncertainty and that storm of thoughts in our minds we left Ulrich early in the morning, the Bukitinggi regions left unexplored with the intention of reaching lake Toba in two days. Day 10 of almost pure riding since we left Yogyakarta. 2500 km behind us, it feels so close. Still, more than 1000 km to go … the worlds sixth largest island is getting to us.

Crossing the equator! This calls for an excited jump!

Crossing the equator! This calls for an excited jump!

Even before lunch, we hit a mighty important place regardless of our musings. Here, pretty much in the middle of nowhere we crossed the equator. What a milestone! From Wellington! We made it! First crossing the Tropic of Capricorn in Australia and now onto the northern Hemisphere. Neither of us has ever crossed the equator in anything but a plane. We made it roughly half our way, a quarter of the way around the world (ok, 1000km short …). Nina was so excited that she justly broke our “no souvenir”-rule and bought a t-shirt (she drove a hard bargain to get it, though).

The road continued to alternate between amazing and horrendous from here on out, but the traffic was always light and made up for it. Our stop for the night was in Padangsidempuan, an un-remarkable town half way between Bukitinggi and our destination on the peninsular /island of Samosir. The room was cheap and clean, on the ground floor and the WiFi was good.

Day 134 – Shy mountains and imposing lakes

Sunlight and clouds

Sunlight and clouds

It was probably the coldest night we have had in a while. Up in the mountains with proper rain, it cooled down rapidly. I was wearing my pyjama, socks, a fleece jumper and a fleece jacket with hood on top of it. Still too cold to sleep properly under the thin fleece blanket.

The morning looked promising and the breakfast was so good that Flo even ate the rest of my omelette…something that has never been heard of before. Continue reading