This could have been an uneventful day. Our only goal for today: Eat miles! With over 350 km to go till Solo, our next “want to see” item on the list, it was clear that we had to stop somewhere along the way, but no place was coming forward as a logical stopping point. All we did was set a route as far south as possible and got going. To force us south and avoid going through the busy and populated middle I set a waypoint on what I thought to be the last proper road somewhere half way between Malang and Pacitan.

This looks promising, and less traffic as well.

After a light breakfast we got on the road early and were in for the first section of pain. The urban traffic of Malang was exhaustingly slow going. I would not mind if there were a ring road or motorway around, but everyone has to go right through the heart of the city. Two hours later we had covered maybe 20 km.

From here on out it got better, but in no way enjoyable. It seems that every possible stretch of flat land on Java is one endless settled mess. Rubbish, vehicle, people all moving about each other. The roads are good but full. It was one long exercise in overtaking. Everything was made even harder by a bunch of the worst drivers in Indonesia to this point. In ascending order: slow cars – Mostly new ones, so I expect inexperienced drivers plus tiny 800cc engines. Black Mitsubishi pickups – The primary means of short range haulage, most drivers think they are the main character in Gone in 60 seconds. Plus, they constantly try to squeeze in with the bikes and block everything. But the crown of jerks must go to bus drivers – The number of times we have seen these 10t death wielders force others off the road in just three short days is shocking. They stop where they want, they go where they want and I am sure if they were allowed to mount crash bars they would start pushing the people in front out of their way.

3 more seconds. See the deep rut on the right?

It was on a more densely settled stretch that we witnessed our first accident. We heard it mostly. With the sound of a giant water bottle being crumpled, someone came off their scooter just behind us. We stopped to check a couple of meters down and saw the rider crumpled on the ground, but there were already a bunch of others on the case. Plus, people started looking at us. We were not directly involved, but maybe someone was distracted by us or something. We felt it prudent to leave to avoid getting into a pickle here.

Then suddenly 50 km on, the same road took a turn and everything became bliss. There were steep mountains on the horizon, and when we hit them, the traffic turned to a trickle. The road got windy and settlements ended. We had a short rest in this stunning scenery, at a spot where we could even see the sea. Further down, the road became this beautiful brand new strip of tarmac, leading along the beach and sweeping on a new bridge over the river. And then, it stopped. The brand new road ended in a gravel track. On the GPS I saw another road maybe 500m down, and the gavel was not looking too bad. Even after a small river crossing … see, there was the other road, 50m ahead, just up the … very steep washed out track. Hmm. Nina got off and thus catastrophe commenced. Ten meters short of the seal, I hit a rut and dropped the bike. Nina was there in no time and we got the bike up again. A check revealed only minor damage. Good. When I got back up, Nina let go of the bike due to a miscommunication on my part and I fell hard into the exact same rut. Sandstone! This time, one of the paniers got a dent and a bunch of nasty scrapes and our mood was down to arctic levels.

The dent can be bashed back out, miffed about the sticker though …

After a long breather and an assortment of curse words, we were now on the right road. Only to learn that it too would end just around the corner. So would every other, leaving only gravel tracks to go further. It turns out that I marked a gravel track as our waypoint and have led us into a 35km dead end 🙁 – Ah well, at least these were the nice 35 km. That, unfortunately also removed all hope to get to Pacitan in time tonight. Back where we took the wrong turn, I checked for hotels along the road and found two about 45 km further along. It would be a bit of a push but that seemed doable.

What followed was one of the nicest stretches of road in Indonesia, yet. A winding road led over the mountains towards the sea again. There was barely any traffic. The views were gorgeous and our spirits rose while our butts started to cave. We made it to Panggul on the coast by 5pm and the hotel was within our price range. We even found a warung with a lovely owner staying open for us so that we could get a dinner.