Teaching them

After leaving Tuktuk January 24th I head south in the direction of Bukit Tinggi. After a few km it becomes clear I should have stayed longer on Samosir, I have no idea how to sit comfortably. Stuborn as I am, I ofcourse continue. Still the enthousiastic cheers and greetings make me sometimes forget I have a row with my saddle. In the afternoon it starts raining, hard. After a short break to put on my raincape I proceed. I always like cycling in the rain, only today it is sometimes hard to look in front of me as the rain comes into my eyes. Around 16:00 still in heavy rain I reach Tarutung. Although the small city has quite a few hotels, I cannot find a place that suits my wallet. At 17:00 finally I find a room I think is cheap enough. The fungus is on the wall and it is rather dark, but I can park my bike in the room and hang my wet clothes to dry. I really like these small towns, the people are not that used to white people and everywhere I go I am spoken to. I am invited by a couple of old guys to share their can of tuak. A nice company, two christians, two muslims and one who is neither. Although one of them speaks a litle bit English, it becomes more interesting when the daughter of one of them, Mona Lisa, joins us. She loves to watch football and is beautiful as well, sounds like the ideal woman. Two days later I stop in Penyabungan to spend the night. I am eating some food to wait for the rain to stop, when a beautiful girl invites me to come to her house. Although it is still raining I do not mind following her. It turns out that she takes me to a school where they teach English to highschool kids. After a brief introduction by the teacher I take over the class and tell about me and answer questions. 15 minutes after I have started, I am invited to take my class to the other room, as the other students want to talk/listen to me too. The class ends after 1.5 hours but I stay a while longer to talk with the teachers and other people who have come in. I am in vited by the father of the beautiful girl to have dinner at their home, but I decline, I am tired and I feel a throatpain coming up.

The 27th I expect to have a long cycling day as no big towns are en route until Lubuk Sikaping. I do not know if it is the beautiful surroundings, green paddi's with coconut (kelapa) trees dotted around them and low green hills on the back, but my ever complaining ass keeps rather quiet. Unfortunately it starts raining again, this time I do not stop, maybe my clothes get clean this way. I have just bought a pancake (mertabak) with black rice in it, when I am overtaken by two boys on a scooter with the request to stop. I ask them why and I keep up my nice pace. The driver, Johan, tells me his mother saw me passing by and had told him to invite me to stay with them. This is an offer I like and I quickly turn around and cycle 5km back with them. When entering the house I bump my head to the doorpost, not for the last time. When I enter 20 people follow, all want to see this strange white fellow with his big nose. The halfparalyzed father indicates that the people who have no business here have to leave the house. Unfortunately for them they can not take their place outside at one of the windows, because they already have been taken. Also bothered by the people peeping in, the father has the curtains shut. Johans brother who has braindamage since his birth is very happy with my presence and climbs in a coconut tree to ge me a young coconut, the milk tastes delicious. After that, I play football on a rocky patch of ground. I get several little wounds on my feet, but I ofcourse am a representer of all Dutch football players so I can not forsake, I leave a good impression I think. After bath (mandi), throwing scoops of cold water over me, dinner is ready. Johans uncle is an English teacher and I am going to his huge place after. There I am expected to have dinner again. Fortunately I have a big appetite and without a problem I eat all that is offered me. The uncle invites me to come along to his school the next day on Sunday. To the disappointment of Johans mother I am already picked up when I am just starting my breakfast. The uncle asks me if I do not have any other (more decent) clothes, with a big smile I deny.

As these are not the first classes I visit I get a bit more experienced in it. I do not tell to much about me, because half of the time they will not understand anyway, I let them come up with the questions. Sooner or later the question is asked if I am married and when I answer a lot of noise comes from the class. Next questions usually are if I would like to have a girl from this country, what religion I am and if a girl of different religion would be a problem. In the second class a girl even asks me to be her boy friend. Trying to be careful with her feelings I say, that if she has a bike she is invited to join me. Later when I ask someone to write an Indonesion word on the board for me she is fighting with another girl over the marker, she looses. After the third class, my last for the day, I am taken in to a photoshoot and autograph session. The whole class, well especcially the girls, want to be in a picture with me. Even the headmaster wants to be in a picture with me. In Rao Johan is already awaiting me and he and his friends take me to a nearby village to get Rambutan and play in the river. At night we play chess. First I beat Johan, without much effort, then I am invited to play against a kid who can not be older than twelve. I should have been warned. I am not and underestimate the little fellow and am kicked off the board in no time, a big blow for my ego. Later we watch Italian footbal on tv. This night I put autan on, so that I can sleep, the previous night I have not slept a wink.

After a big breakfast I leave the hospitality of Johans place and head for Lubuk Sikaping. In the evening I stop at a coffeeshop to have a tea and talk with the father, daughter and the other guests all night. The next morning I have a huge breakfast here too and am not allowed to pay. Then only a short trip to Bukit Tinggy the tourist centre of Sumatra. I do not really like it, to many tourists.

Tuktuk

The 21st I cycle to Lake Toba. Because it is Sunday and this area is predominantly Christian I pass a lot of long lines of beautifully dressed people going to church. As usual all people are very enthousiastic when I pass. The first 15 km I go lightning fast, slightly downhill and wind in the back. The mini-busses cannot keep up with me. Until I reach the lake cycling goes smooth and fast, after the road goes up and down and I am glad when I reach Parabat, where I can take the ferry to the island in the lake. The ferry drops me at the place I want to stay. I get a nice little bungalow with view over the lake and it costs me only 25,000 IDR. At the reception I find a book of Dan Brown to spend some relaxing hours reading. When I am eating a banana pancake in a restaurant overlooking the lake I see Tom cycling by. Apparently he has rented a bike. I stop him and invite him to join me. He told me he had seen me cycling yesterday. I find out it took me only 2 hours more to do the 100 km by bicycle than he by bus. The rest of the day I spend reading in a restaurant in the middle of nowhere, now and then ordering "the manis" and food. At night when I take shelter for the rain in a restaurant I am persuaded to take some snake soup. The snake tastes a bit like chicken but is more tender and the meat has a slightly different texture. It is nice to see what the bone structure is like as well.

The next morning I have a pancake at the same restaurant just outside tuktuk as yesterday. Here I meet Tom again, who prefers the cooking of this woman to that of his hotel. After that I head of north by bike to do a little of touring on Samosir island. This was not a smart idea, my ass has not recovered and by this little trip I open the old wounds. In the evening it rains hard again. It is a beautiful sight to see the rain coming in over the lake. Later I visit the python restaurant again for another soup. This time the owners oldest son is around and he plays the guitar and sings with it all night. The womans sister is living in Delft in the Netherlands and she asks me to take some letters home with me for her, although no problem for me, it is probably better to post them as they than will arrive faster in Delft.

On the 24th at 8:00 I am picked up from my hotel by the ferry to cross the lake again, I will head south.

Fotoshoot

The first thing I do in Berastagi is to buy a screwdriver to open my camera. The unfortunate thing is that every time I (un)screw the screws of my camera the screwdrivers head gets screwed. Then I open the camera and see that water has entered the camera and some parts on the circuit board (?) are slightly corroded. I try to clean them and think I do a good job, but in the process a strip that connects 2 parts gets torn. I give up project revive camera and throw it into the dustbin. The next morning, January 20 I climb the nearby volcano. At the top I meet Tom, an Englishman I had met they before. Again I am not sure his name is really Tom, but I did not dare to ask anymore after so much time together. Together we descend on the steep path down. In the valley we drink a couple of The manis before we set back to the town, which to our surprise is 15 km away. Fortunately I manage to convice a family to take us with them in their car. After I wander a while through the town. It is always fun to do this as the people are so friendly and curious. I read in a comment book some people hate all the attention, I love it. I talk to everybody who addresses me and greet (almost) everybody. One of three girls, after greeting them for the second time, finds the nerve to talk to me and we go to the same internet cafe. When I leave, they leave and we end up having a drink at a mobile KFC of all places. In their view KFC is cool I guess. All I know it is bloody expensive and the food awful. They want to have a picture of me, but have no camera, I confess I have none either. They decide they will buy some film and borrow a camera. The first place they want to have our picture taken is in a horse carriage, but I refuse to go with them in a horse carriage through town. Maybe only a picture on the spot, but no tour. In the end the girls sit on horses and I am in between them. After that to the park. When it gets dark I have to say goodbye to the three nurses as I am going to have dinner with Tom. When I have finished dinner with Tom, I try to find the girls hotel, but to no avail.

Tough roads

I thought I have seen some bad roads, but Indonenesia opens new views on roads. The plan was to go in one day from Bukit Lawang to Berastagi, a town close to a working volcano. The road to Bukit Lawang already was pretty bad, rivers and palmoil trucks have quite a demolishing power, but the road I travel on Januari the 18th is something else. I should have been alarmed when someone on the way told me I could stay at Pammasimeler when I had not enough time left to go all the way. From Simpan Durenmolok to Telagah my ass gets a very serious beating from all the big rocks I have to go over, but at least this road is flat (at the beginning). There is one positive thing in this, it gives me the kick for being faster than motorbikes and cars. The closer I get to Telagah the worse it gets. Asphalt is no longer to be found, just loose rocks and huge holes, it still is possible to cycle though. I thought I had understood that the road would improve after Telagah, so with almost all my energy spent I am relieved I finally reach Telagah. After nasi goreng telur I remount and proceed on my trip. To my horror the road gets even worse, now I am not able to cycle anymore. Pammasimeler is still 40km away. This is most likely going to be a long day. My speed is probably close to 3km an hour, I might have to camp. Then my luck changes, I had misunderstood the person who told me the distance, it is only 4km. Pretty much exhausted I am invited by Udin, a coffee farmer from Pammasimeler to stay at his place. He cooks for me a simple dinner of rice, beans and fish. In the morning I get noodle soup before I head for Berastagi. After been able to cycle about 200m I have to dismount again and push my bike through the road that more resembles a (dry) riverbed. Then just before the top, delight, paved road. Not smooth but, paved. At times incredible steep. I have to keep my body above my handlebar, otherwise I will fall backward but I can cycle. Around 11:00 I climb a little top and find a great panorama, which also contains the volcano in the distance. This place is also inhabited, so I can start greeting and be greeted. For me this is such a joy. All those laughing faces, smiles, enthousiastic cheers, just because I pass by. Although still not flat, once in a while the road dips quickly to a river to go up steeply right after, cycling is easy and around noon I reach Berastagi. I am going to stay here 2 nights to give my ass some well needed rest and to visit the volcano of course. My ass feels like it is one big wound. I did not know how to sit on my saddle anymore, I hope 2 days not cycling is enough.

King in the jungle

In the evening of the 9th I text my brother I want to cycle to a big lake, not far from Medan, but that I do not have a map and consequently no clue in what direction to head. He promptly replies with the directions, fortunately I also find a map of Sumatra in the evening. On this map I see a symbol of an orangutan north of Medan. The next morning before leaving I ask the landlady where I can find this Orangutangs and she tells me I have to go to Stabat. I am already well on my way, when over lunch I talk to some locals I wish to see orangutangs. They convince me I should not go to Stabat, no "jungle man" there, Bukit Lawang is where I should go. I head back and after a 40km over a road of dismal quality I reach the town. Halfway I have met Muhdi and Baba, when taking pictures of a wedding. They want to ride my bike and after lowering the saddle considerably, they are about 1.60m tall, first Muhdi and then Baba have a shot, I ride conveniently on the back of the scooter.

Muhdi manages to convince me to take a jungle tour of 5 days with him. I will be the only tourist, Baba will come as well and Ling completes the group, he will be the cook. In the morning we are not even an hour in the jungle or we spot a Orangutang with it's baby in the next hour I see 5 more. Then we have nasi goreng for lunch with fresh cucumber and tomato with fresh fruit as desert. In the afternoon we only see mosquito's and at 15:00 Muhdi and I arrive at the camp, that Baba and Ling already have setup. Tea is already waiting. I have to do nothing but walk and play card. Ling is a master in the kitchen i.e. campfire. Every day 3 dish dinners, breakfast with club sandwiches and omelets or banana pancakes. The treks are a bit short, consequently we do not get really deep in the jungle, one of the consequences of not plannng the event I guess. Still I manage to see, next to the orangutans, black gibbons, 2 types of hornbill, longtail macaque and monitorlizzard, which is the smaller brother of the komododragon, but still seizable with a length of 2m. Next to the unavoidable musquito's I saw also quite a few leaches, but unfortunately no tigers, I would have gladly swapped the 2 first ones for the latter. On day four I decide to stay 2 more nights in the jungle. Unfortunately on one of these days I break the camera when Muhdi takes pictures of me when showereing under a waterfall. The jungle experience ends with rafting on cartubes over the river back to Bukit Lawang. The river is quite wild because of the hours of rain we have had the last week. So we manage to turn up side down once and break a steering stick, both not big problems, plenty of sticks in the jungle anyway. Although I enjoyed being in the jungle I am a bit disappointed. We were near the civilised world all the time, next time I will try to get really deep into it.

At the destination

When I am waiting for the ferry to depart, I see two similar bicycles to my bike being carried on board. They belong to two girls who have bought them at the same shop as I in Bangkok. In Penang I join them to the hostel they have booked, but when it turns out to be full I head to the one that was recommended to me by Willem and Annette. I stay close to the Indian neighborhood where I can enjoy a lot of nice street food. The next morning I head straight to the Indonesian consulate to arrange a visa. To my relief this seems to be no problem, I can even get 60 days, but I first have to buy a ticket to Indonesia. I rush back to the port to buy a ticket for next Tuesday after which I cycle as fast as I can back to the consulate. I can pick up the passport Monday morning. In the afternoon I wander into a bookshop and find a copy of “The count of Monte Christo” of Alexandre Dumas. It is not so much its fame that makes me buy it but its size. It has over 1400 pages which should keep me busy for a while so I do not have to search for a new one soon. Unfortunately I have not an awful lot to do, so I finish it on Monday. On Sunday I cycled around the island. It was not my intention, I just searched for a nice place to read my book when I ended up at the other side of the island. I decided to go around. I had misjudged the distance so I end up cycling in the dark. I had wind in the back and was going faster than the cars, overtaking them right and left. Exhausted and soaking wet I return at the hostel, but it was good to cycle again.

When I want to pick up my passport I am stopped at the gate of the consulate. To enter, I have to identify myself. I try to make clear that I came to pick up my passport so I cannot show it, only until a superior arrives I am allowed in. The clerk behind the desk recognizes me and swiftly hands me my passport, only after I promise to also visit Bali.

Early in the morning of Jan 9 I take the ferry to Belawan, Indonesia. Halfway, on mid sea and bigwaves, the engine suddenly stops. One of the crew jumps in the water to have a look under water. It is a bit unnerving to be without propulsion when you know recently a ferry sunk in Indonesian waters. After an hour we get going again, something was in the propeller. A few hours later we arrive on Indonesian soil, destination reached. My plan was to stay in Belawan, but I cannot get any money. Two atm’s are empty. This message is not conveyed in the screen though. I go through the whole process and when I am supposed to take the money nothing happens. Inside they tell me not to worry, the machine is empty. At the other bank with ATM, my card is not accepted. I see no other option but to cycle to Medan. I end up at the tollway, but after 5 km I am pulled up. I say it is no problem for me to cycle here and that I do it all the time. Not convinced by my arguments I am directed to another road close by, which also goes to Medan. It is fun to cycle here, people are very enthusiastic when I cycle by, but traffic is much more chaotic than in the previous countries. I constantly have to dodge cars and break hard to avoid bumping into suddenly stopping cars.

18 year old Chinese

The first thing that strikes me upon arrival on Langkawi is the well kept and modern looking terminal. It appears that Malaysia is a richer country than Thailand. The prices here are also considerable higher than in Thailand, but that might also have to do with the fact that I am in a very touristy place. In the terminal I try to retrieve some local currency from the ATM, but I am initially denied for lack of funds. Fortunately I am able to get a lower amount from the machine. With the help of a leaflet with the map of the Island I decide to go the west coast. I find a beautiful beach, but with almost only expensive places to stay. I manage to find a not to expensive room however. On the beach I meet the Thai family again I met earlier on the ferry. I get the impression the woman is trying to match me with her sister, but I can hold that off. She probably wants to flatter me, but in my view does not, when she guesses my age is 18. This is a new record, usually I am guessed to be around 26 or so, although I have a niece I had never seen before who estimated my age 19, but that was 2 years ago. Apart from people judging me much younger I am not infrequently guessed to be (partly) Chinese. Apprantly because of my eyes. So if it were for some people I am to be an 18 year old Chinese.

At night I go to a semi fancy restaurant and order red snapper, for 6Rm per 100gram. When after waiting a very long time I inquire after my meal I am soon presented with a fish. My knowledge of fish is not so great, but the fish seems to me not a red snapper, but I eat it anyway. The big fish tastes good and after finishing I ask for the bill. I am a bit startled when I see it, I am to pay 114 Rm, while I only have 100 on me. It also seems a bit high, it would mean a fish of more than 1.5 kg. Just when I tell them that I do not have enough money with me, my eyes fall on the name of the fish I am supposed to pay for. I turns out I have been eating a bull fish which is twice as expensive. I make clear I had ordered a redsnapper. They had made a mistake in the kitchen, they say, and I get away with half the cost, which is only fair. Still it is expensive enough.

The next day I hike to the top of one of the mountains, but the view at the top is disappointing. It is a bit misty and the trees and brushes on the top prevent a clear sight. I do see that in the northwest of the island is a nice beach and after descending I head there. I had hoped to find a little town, but the only thing I find is two resorts. I go through one of them and park my bike at the beach and go for a swim and do some reading. When the sun is about to set I take my luggage on my back and take up my bike and climb over 100 m of rocks followed by a walk through the rising water to a small island for the coast. Here I set up my mosquito net and gather dry wood. Before it is dark I make some instant cereal for dinner and after that I make my campfire. The only thing missing is some one to share it with, but apart from that it is perfect. The next morning I am only just in time to leave the island before the tide is to high, which would have me confined to the island for a longer period, unless I would have been saved by someone of the resort. The last night on the island I spend on a beach in the northeast. Again I make my campfire and all is well until I lay down under my net. Then I am attacked by dozens of little insects who go straight through the net. Although small they are very capable of biting/stinging. They are easy to kill, but usually the kill comes to late. The next morning I wake with over 40 red spots over my body, it looks like I have the measles. Fortunately the spots do not show long and do not itch much. With the boat of 14:30 I leave Langkawi and go to Penang.

New year

In Phuket I still can find to my surprise accommodation for a decent price. I delay the search for the departure time of the ferry to Ko Lanta till the next day and on this Christmas evening I just roam through the streets, eating and drinking at the various food stalls and cafe's. The next morning I find out that the only boat to Lanta has already left, still I head to the port to see for my self, very often public transport does not leave at it's designated time. After being sent in the wrong direction a couple of times I finally reach the port, with no hope the ferry is still there. All is not lost as at 10:30 another ferry leaves for Ko Pipi from where I can take a ferry to Lanta. The water in Pipi harbour is exceptionally clear, I can see colourful fish and long and pointy snouted ones. After 2 hours I leave for Lanta. Although the beach is beautiful, Lanta seems to be a place predominantly visited by Swedish families and couples. At the same time accommodation is expensive. I find a quiet place on the beach and pitch up my mosquito net. I intend to stay only 1 night but I end up staying 3. The main reason is that I am able to get my hands on some new secondhand books, which I read almost non-stop, only interrupted by a quick dive in the water. The first night I sit in a little restaurant at the beach talking to a couple Australian girls and just when I raise my hand, something sticky falls on my pointing finger. At first I think it is bird dropping, but when I look closer I notice it is a little gecko. When it has recovered from the shock it takes off leaving me behind wondering how it could survive a drop of about 4m.

On the 29th I finally manage to get my lazy ass of the beach. I end up in Trang a reasonable sized town with a nice evening market with again nice snack opportunities. Apart from that, I cannot find anything interesting, so I leave the next day for Thungwa, only about 70 km away, which means a short easy ride. The Belgium couple on a double, that I meet at the beginning of the afternoon, tries to convince me I should cycle another 30 km further to the coast, but I am determinedly lazy and stick to my decision. On the last day of the year I head to Satun where I will say goodbye to 2006 and to Thailand. On the road south I am overtaken by scores of breath taken beautifully dressed beautiful women on scooter, either accompanied by similarly dressed friends or paraded by their proud boyfriends(?). Next to my hotel is a bar where I find a few westerners and locals to celebrate the end of the year and the beginning of the new year with. A couple of French are already wasted at 10 o'clock and fortunately leave. In the end only a Belgium guy, the French bartender and I remain. It could have been a worse night, could have been a lot better also. The next morning I only wake up at 8:22, with the ferry to Langkawi leaving at 9:30. I pack my stuff as fast as I can, cycle the 8 km and go through customs and just make it. Not long after departing I fall a sleep, I am awaken by a passenger as we have arrived on Langkawi, when most already have left the ship.