What’s another trip ?

We’re headed to Bali again. I’m trying to recall my past trips and bikes involved from memory. I’m sure of the years, not so much the months that I visited Bali, so here goes…..

What a paradise for pedaling 2006

Feb 1989    Bridgestone MB 3

May 1990 *

July / Aug 1991   Bridgestone MB 3

May 1992   Bridgestone MB 1 / 5

Aug 1992   Bridgestome MB 1 / 5

April 1993   Bridgestone MB 1

June 1995   Ti Lust MTB

Nov 1995   Ti Lust MTB

June 1996 *

Sept 1996   Ti Lust MTB

May 1998 *

Nov 1999   Ti Lust MTB / Silver MTB

At Penelokan 1717m in 1999

Aug 2000   Ti Lust MTB

April 2001   Santa Cruz Heckler

May 2002   Diamond Back MTB

Oct 2002   Ti Lust MTB

April 2003   GT Zaskar MTB / Miss Marin MTB

May 2006   KHS Alite MTB / Miss Marin MTB

Aug 2008   Sutly LHT / Miss Marin MTB

April / May 2011   BF tikit / KHS Coffee bike, really. Plus one 3 m wide stunt kite with an 800 m line !

* Denotes trips without a bicycle, what was I thinking ?

Feeding time 2003

the bridge looks familiar

Downtown

Mon 25th Oct

A shortish ride north into downtown Perth to get some lunch and groceries shouldn’t be too difficult, or so we thought. On the maps, today’s ride read a 28 or 30 kms round trip from our base at Bull Creek, a quiet suburb on the south banks of the Canning River. Factor in some deviations, getting lost and “I think it’s that way” we rode a total of 52.5 kms. Much too much just to do lunch and stock up for dinner.  For a first day’s ‘long ride’ we did pretty well, battling the relentless winds of the Fremantle (Witch) Doctor * and got re acquainted with the sights, smells and sounds of Northbridge, Subiaco and Leederville.

Much has changed since Feb 2007 as 2 train stations have gone underground, and the city has took on a more Asian immigrant feel. While I shouldn’t get into a debate on the pros and cons of that, the city centre seemed busier than years past and the economy’s booming. Good times for West Australians. Heck even Elite Racing Cycles has taken over it’s neighbour, and for a few magical moments I was transported into Eduardo Bianchi’s bike shop in Milan.

After looking at some menus and getting over the initial shock of their prices, we settled down into an early and slow Vietnamese lunch. Hunger had set in at 11.30 hrs and we knew that the Vietnamese portions were huge. Bring on the sodium and complex carbohydrates of grilled pork and broken rice.

Close to home, this Spitfire from the RAAF Museum is a sight to behold each time we ride by. Today it's 1000 hrs and a late start.

Although just 6 kms long the exposed bike path along the Kwinana Freeway is no fun with buzzing traffic inland and strong headwinds from the Swan River. Even the roadies were suffering

As much as I tried I couldn't make it over 100 kmp/h

There's a nice toilet nearby but I still cannot figure out what's below their waists ?

Are these convenient or what ?

A no entry sign I can live with

A naughty part of Northbridge

Eduardo Bianchi would be proud

Postman's bike with front hub 'assist'

An all time record low price for.... coffee

Yeah....right

To make the most of our downtown day, I whipped out my 5 year old Perth CBD map and decided to take a longer way home while avoiding the CBD proper. This brainwave probably added another 10 kms or so of  ”I think it’s that way”  but truth be told we did see a few very expensive townhouses in very exclusive neighbourhoods, rode a few down hills (can’t complain here) crossed the Swan River at Victoria Park and ended up on a beautiful foreshore bike path (along Sir James Mitchell Park) opposite the city, before we found ourselves on the dreaded next to the Kwinana highway bike path, right under the Narrows Bridge. Where did our 7 hour outing disappear to ?

Perth city at 4 pm

The amazing bike lane under the Mt Henry Bridge, but our fun's almost over, as we still have to cook dinner ! Time check, 4.50 pm

*http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fremantle_Doctor

Ready to Roll

Washed and waxed, sliced and diced, cut and dried our bikes are set for 2 weeks in and around Perth. Just about an hour spent on elbow grease for each bike. Waffling and thinking about the trip? More than 12 months.

Sanitized to keep Australian customs happy. Half baked mudguards to accommodate 1.95 tyres

Zero grime on the chainrings

Mirror like White Industries Tracker hub circa 1992

Bar end shifters forever

Miss Marin still at a very svelte 10 kgs even

Don't ask !

I reminded Coleen that she will be asked by other cyclists about her strange looking fork. esp from those not into mountain biking in the early 1990′s. Her answers, as in 2005, was to point to me and  say ‘Ask him’ or Google AMP Research.

Nov Update : True to form, her fork stopped a jogger in his tracks as he did a double take, turned around and stared and started touching the fork. We saw all this from inside a Vietnamese restaurant while having lunch. The other jogger presumably a wife or GF stood arms akimbo, jogging on the spot. WTF ? What tantalising forks ?

Prophetic headset cap

My wax of choice is Eagle One’s Billet Aluminium Polish. The stuff that prepares cars and chrome wheels for shows and exhibitions. Sold. It’s been replaced by it’s ‘Nevr Dull’ metal polish series. http://www.eagleone.com/pages/products/product.asp?itemid=1006&cat=5006

For painted surfaces good ol Johnson wax or Armor All does the job perfectly.

Day 12: Unwinding in Ubud, again

Thursday May 18, 2006, 10 km (6 miles) – Total so far: 553 km (344 miles)

As our bikes are taking a short break from rolling not more than 10 kms today, I thought some scenes of daily life in Ubud might be interesting.

a painting depicting local and foreign life in Bali

The Ubud equivalent of a downtown shopping mall. Locals throng the market for their daily needs from 5 to 9 in the morning. After 9 a transformation takes place. Every fish, meat and vegetable seller packs up and moves out, their spots taken up by vendors selling what they think a tourist might buy, cast iron toy bicycles, carved Komdo dragons, wicker baskets, placemats, t shirts, surf shorts, sandals, bamboo flutes, fake Rolexs, cell phone and I Pod covers and the list goes on. I found out that some road front shops are leased for $1000 a month, a very big sum in Bali. That’s where the big white buses from the south disgorge day trippers who have an hour to shop and dont bargain too much. If you’re not the shopping type the Ubud market is a great place to spend some time watching the human race. Hey there’s a lot of nationalities here. It’s also strange to hear Balinese proficient in 8 languages, well enough to make a sale or more.

Ubud market

One of the advantages of starting and ending our trip in Ubud is having access to even more gear, to use or wear. I’m talking about the number of things a bike box can hold. While the bike takes up some space and weight, the empty spaces below the down tube, between the wheels and front forks can be stuffed with shopping, extra footwear, mangoes, rattan matts, woodcarvings etc. After some time on the road, I really appreciated opening my box to dig out a seasoned pair of Adidas running shoes, a world of difference from walking in stiff soled SPD shoes. I was also thankful for packing a heavy and bulky digital camera batter charger in the box, since my after market, light and miniscule one started acting up and eventually failed a few days before.

Skilled

Day 11: Lovina to Bedugul and Ubud

Wednesday May 17, 2006, 90 km (56 miles) – Total so far: 543 km (337 miles)

Today’s long ride back to Ubud involves a climb in a van 30 kms up to the central mountains, a 15 km ride across a crater and 40 kms downhill on a main highway connecting to south Bali. The van ride from Singaraja to Wanagiri is a repeat of yesterday’s ride into the mountains.

Nurini and her Swiss husband Urs represent a time when travellers visited Bali, became enchanted, stayed on and never felt the need to return to their origins. Having found paradise and a Balinese soulmate, Urs has through the years brought all his assets over to Bali transforming Rini’s Homestay in to a Hotel, adding more rooms, better bathrooms and bigger gardens. Lush gardens are a big thing in Bali with fierce competitions held for the best ones amongst hotels in each Regency. Sometime in 2002 Urs bit the bullet and bought even more land from a neighbour. Here he built 3 stand alone villas and a two storey complex of 6 rooms in anticipation of a tourist boom. We’re holed up for two nights in Villa No 7 for Rp 200,000 or $18 with breakfast, per night. With the exception of concreting, tiling, bricklaying and roofbuilding Urs has a huge open workshop where all woodwork of beds, wardrobe, furniture, even full length mirrors are made by him. Amazing, and he thinks cycling around Bali is tiring. Oh and their now teenage daughter who looks like Kate Moss studies in a local university. Rini’s younger and single sister runs a tight ship which is the front office, the kitchen and the hotel’s beauty shop as well as doing all the accounting. A muscular brother takes care of security patrolling the perimeter a few times during the night. If he’s not too sleepy he’ll drive you around in one of his two Volkswagen convertibles for a reasonable/bargainable price of course. It’s just one big happy family taking care of business.

Galungan is a Balinese New Year celebration every 210 days. Here offerings are being brought to the village temple. Balancing loaded baskets on the head accounts for these very good postures.

Our trip to Bali coincided with one of the island’s major festivals, Galungan which also celebrates the victory of good over evil. All ancestral gods are thought to return to earth, Bali at least to join in the festivities of the living. This lasts ten days, after which another date, Kuningan is a day devoted to more family gatherings, prayers and offerings made as the partying souls return back to heaven. It’s a fortnight of great revelry, everyone is out in their ceremonial best and the streets are decorated with penjor, the long and elaborate bamboo poles found outside each and every home.

We rode into Ubud in the evening as the shadows were getting longer. It was good to be back in somewhat familiar though crowded surroundings. I found this 4 bedroom guest house back in 1998, which now seemed to be surrounded by other developments, meaning more noise and less privacy. I wondered how Loka House down a quiet alleyway just wide enough to cycle by would cope with a video themed restaurant behind it and another restaurant whose kitchen shared a common wall with one of the guest bathrooms. I could smell Tandoori chicken while taking a shower, and heard gossip, pots and pans being washed at midnight! Some things are just too close for comfort or discomfort. Then again that same room is reserved by an elderly Dutch couple 2 months every year. Bali does that to some people.

 

 

 

Day 10: Lovina to Munduk in the mountains

Tuesday May 16, 2006, 65 km (40 miles) – Total so far: 453 km (281 miles)

Some history 101 on Singaraja which means Lion King. The town riches were based on ill gotten gains from a 17th century feudal king who was feared for his export of Balinese slaves to the outer islands in exchange for gold and opium. This was also the part of Bali where the Dutch first set foot in 1849, their influence much more lasting in north Bali than the south. Today there’s a rich cultural mix of business savvy Chinese Balinese and the Muslim community, descendants of Moroccan and Arab traders. There’s also a healthy rivalry here as to who has the biggest satellite dish crowned three storey marbled mansion or long wheel based BMW, as we cycled by some very posh and guarded houses out of town.

We negotiated a ride up 1500 meters and 30 kms into Bali’s central highlands. Mr Speedy’s red 1.3 liter Harley or Suzuki is a common runaround in the town of Singaraja, usually ferrying schoolkids or housewives to the market, sometimes packing up to 20 people inside. We spotted him at a gas station and made the opening offer for him to drive us to a pass at Wanagiri. He agreed on Rps 70,000 or $8 and off we went. Where’s Wanagiri? he asked.

nice CV

2 of 3 highland lakes we pass by on our ride down to the sea. Some potential campsites here with no shortage of water

Cycling above the three crater lakes of Bratan, Buyan and Tamblingan in the central highlands of Bali is always a delight. A smooth and seldom used road runs for an undulating 10 kms with glimpses of the lakes before descending steeply into the last of Bali’s remaining primary jungle.There’s one perfect straight where a friend hit 70 kmph plus speeds, before skidding and blowing his rear tyre and rim in our younger and more reckless days. Another 15 kms up the road is the Dutch era village of Munduk surrounded by clove and coffee estates, which has some hidden gems like the Puri Lumbung Cottages and a few village homestays which we’ve come to know and love. See www.purilumbung.com

A steep singletrack leads down to this waterfall which I was prepared to swim in having brought my bathing gear. It was more like a 10 minute dip before hypothermia set in. The water was freezing! We did not have to back track uphill as I knew of a flat and more direct trail next to some very steep ravines, before it emerged on the main road.

The village of Munduk hugs a mountain ridge in north Bali, surrounded by clove and coffee plantations.

Made Bawa, retired school teacher, funnyman and owner, Guru Ratna Guesthouse, Munduk Village, north Bali 2003

We drop in on some old friends who run an old 5 room Dutch era guesthouse in the mountain village of Munduk

Family matters alot in Bali. Made Bawa used to be a schoolteacher, as did his father but it was also more lucrative leading walks around the surrounding hills and villages. Besides he likes to give a helping hand to any foreign women who has difficulty crossing a stream or muddy rice field, and still get paid for being gentlemanly. As he’s getting on in years, most of his time is spent tending to a small plot of clove trees or puffing on a clove cigarette or two from his private pavilion overlooking a stunning valley of rice terraces and a side road ‘where the ladies go to bathe’ Coleen found out that a younger brother he always doted on had passed away from a heart attack just weeks ago, and Made was still grieving, yet he apologised for his mood saying it was ‘mendung’ Indonesian for ‘cloudy’ His son and daughter in law will eventually take over the running of Guru Ratna, their spotless guesthouse in Munduk which today was full with travellers from Australia’s Intrepid Travels. We said our goodbyes after 2 hours.

Munduk rice terraces

 

 

 

 

 

Day 9: A long, hot and flat ride from Tulamben to Singaraja and Lovina

Monday May 15, 2006, 98 km (61 miles) – Total so far: 388 km (241 miles)

Rising with the sun is one of the reasons for my instant need for a mid day siesta, but it’s worth it. I’ll just have to sample black coffee at every rest stop today.

Sunrise at Tulamben

Our choice of rooms at the Bali Koral Bungalows paid off and the views of Mt Agung look almost moon like from the second floor balconies.

I had cycled in the opposite direction in 1992 and was looking forward to see if it was any different doing the nearly 100 kms from Tulamben to Sinagaraja and Lovina beach. While knowing what to expect at day’s end might take some romance and joy of discovery out of the travel equation, today’s flat roads even surprised Coleen. It’s one beautiful word. Tailwind! which meant pedalling up to 40 kmph plus was effortless. ‘Sup sup suey’ in Cantonese/Chinese or something like ‘Piece of cake’ The traffic got heavier as we reached the outskirts of Singaraja, Bali’s second largest town. Speaking of cakes, Coleen has the uncanny ability to sniff out one in the busiest part of town, so a pit stop was made for today’s and tomorrow’s over sweetened quota of pastries and pies. I spoke to a Chinese lady/chief baker/cashier at the shop who had no idea where/what Tulamben was/is despite being born here, but I bet she knew the best places to shop in Hong Kong or Shanghai.

Getting separated out on the open road often meant playing a quick catch up. Most times I’ll stop for a few pictures while Coleen carried on. The road’s quite shady with big cotton trees but I saw a motorcycle make a U turn towards Col and follow her for some time. I sprinted up behind the Honda who was obviously trying to taunt a girl on a bicycle, quickly overtaking the surprised motorcyclist who eventually backed off. Some guys will pull up along side at 30 kmph with questions like Where you going? or Where your husband? (Right behind your smoky exhaust, fool) In the meantime there might be a black truck heading the other way in the middle of the shady road. Most motorcycle rear view mirrors, if not cracked, broken or missing are used by men to check on their hair or pimples. The both of us were stopped twice by a guy who whipped out the business card of a friend who had a homestay by the beach. He was persistent and showed up in Singaraja town 20 kms later pushing the same card and offering to direct us there. Boy, business must be really slow, his petrol free or his commission really huge. We took refuge in a restaurant hoping he would disappear. We had better reservations at Nurini’s Hotel, well a simple homestay that in 15 years blossomed into a beach hotel.

A few days before in Bangli I remembered Coleen being tailed by a m/cycle as she circled a round about twice to see if she was being followed. After she exited and stopped, so did the two guys on the bike. A second bike came along and the first hastily took off. It was a sharp eyed off duty policeman who could just be one of Daddy’s (from Batur’s Lakeside) relatives. (:-) Most times these fellows are just curious, but I’d rather be cautious.

We’ve never had so many swimming pools on any of our cycling trips. Well Bali’s pretty tropical and just 8 degress south of the equator, and as many places start to upgrade, a pool is top on the list and gives any homestay an instant upmarket staus as well a reason to increase rates sometimes to the detriment of room quality. Some pools are salt water ones, not sea salt water but salt added into the system.

Poolside at Rini's

Lovina is the generic name given to this 7 km black grey beach on the island’s north coast 10 kms from Bali’s old capital of Singaraja. Like Candidasa, it was a 70s backpackers hangout and has seen better days. Early morning is the best time for a beach stroll or to hire an outrigger for snorkelling or dolphin taunting. Taunting? Yes since the offshore lagoon is calm and relatively wave free, pods of dolphins sometimes surface and flip over to the delight of those above water. If you havent been pestered into a pre dawn dolphin taunting expedition yesterday, you will be approached this morning or any other. Dozens of motorized outriggers patrol the calm waters in search of any fins breaking the water. Once some are spotted there’s a mad rush to get as close as possible to Flipper and company lest they start to dive and disappear, as they always do. The hide and seek goes on for a few hours until one by one the outriggers head back to shore. If you’ve not caught sight of a single dolphin there’s a gigantic concrete dolphin monument right by the beach parking lot to look at, or buy a carved wooden dolphin or two and zip tie it to your handlebar or seat post as a mojo. Tacky but true as I’m writing from experience of days gone by here.

Dinner was a low key affair at a new New Zealand themed restaurant called Tiki. Surprisingly it only had Italian food, and which cyclist is going to refuse pasta? I sort of missed the final demise of a long time favourite bar, restaurant plus bandstand place called Malibu, another victim to a downturn in tourism here.

 

 

Day 8: Amed to Tulamben

Sunday May 14, 2006, 40 km (25 miles) – Total so far: 290 km (180 miles)

Today, while Coleen was rearing to go, I saw no hurry to leave one of the nicest rooms we’ve had in Bali. After all the next stop was just 40 kms away at yes, another beach in north Bali. Besides, lying spread eagled in bed, gazing at our slowly turning wooden fan, I’ve always wondered if some bright spark could come up with a mini air conditioner built into a bike helmet. It’s just a matter of time. Maybe yesterday’s circle trip was too hot.

We left at almost high noon on a ride punctuated by many look sees at new rooms along the way (thank you Anda for being full, it was very tempting indeed) and 2 ice cream stops. We were at this view point above Lipah Bay when a motor cycle screeched to a halt and we heard a resounding ‘Kerisss!!’ Who could it be then? It was Wayan, one of the girls who worked at the old Bayu and was doing the same at the new Bayu, hence the source of all the updated news. She proudly showed us her new wheels, a Yamaha scooter no less which was essential in these parts and for some reason wanted us to know that the minimum wage in Bali had risen to $65 a month. In these small villages everyone knows everyone else. So in no time we had 3 other scooters stopping right behind Wayan’s, all friends asking the same questions to which Wayan has to give the same answer of who we were, from where and other earth shattering news. She was also parked on a crest around a blind corner which was none too safe. We enjoyed our not so brief encounter with Wayan, and the promise that Made and Anik e-mail us, someday.

( It’s been some five years since we last met and this husband and wife team, plus some siblings who are doing real well in their new whitewashed, high ceiling minimalist restaurant overlooking the Straits of Lombok. No more slogging though late nights all week long, for someone else, as they did the last decade.

They have a new deal to run and operate this restaurant and bar, keeping all the profits, while paying off the loan of Rp 600 million (or US$65,000 ) it cost to build it. It’ll be theirs lock stock and barrel after 10 years. On our two nights here we saw managers from surrounding hotels, as well as parties of six to eight diners here, so they must be doing something right. They’ll be even more blessed with good stress when a luxury ‘villas only’ resort opens up on the hill behind them )

We got to Tulamben round 3 pm heading straight for the latest new fangled restaurant cum dive shop here. Tulamben is just a 200 meter row of small buildings which might not exist if not for World War 2. About a mile off shore on the sea bed lies the wreck of the USS Liberty, a merchant ship which was torpedoed in 1942 by Japanese forces based on Bali. I think the parking lot for divers on day trips from Bali’s south must be the single biggest developed piece of real estate here. We spent a lazy afternoon looking at expensive scuba gear in the dive shops and beach combing, the highlight of which was a German adult magazine basking on the rocks. We didnt understand any of the words but the artsy black and white pictures were interesting if not instructional.

 

 

Day 4: Off road trails around Mount and Lake Batur

 

Wednesday May 10, 2006, 22 km (14 miles) – Total so far: 60 km (37 miles)

I first saw Mt Batur (1717 m) and it’s crater lake in 1989 and thought Hmm, what a great place to ride a bike, any kind of bike. That was when mountain bikes were first sold in Singapore. Expensive Stumpjumpers and Bridgestones. So many return trips were made to Bali and even one in 1995 for a mountain bike race in the crater. Then I discovered that hiking up to the summit which looked like Batman’s ears was another adventurous thing to do. Since then Mt Batur has even given birth in 1998 to a smaller semi active cone named Batur 4. (there are already three in existence) These days the three small villages of Kedisan, Toya Bungkah and Songan, all by the lake shore sees only a handful of visitors.

Toya Bungkah’s claim to fame is its location near a hot spring that flows into Lake Batur. Villages would do their bathing in the early evenings beside tourists in their shorts and bikinis. Soon more food stalls or warung appear with concoctions like banana pancakes and a cluster of homestays for those lingering a little longer to soak in hot waters afetr a hike up Mt Batur. Then comes along the a Big Bad Wolf, some rich guy who builds an olympic sized pool, private spa rooms and lush gardens charging $5 a pop to swim in a murky, lukewarm pool and lots more for a ‘spa treatment’ The villagers lost all their hot water, food stalls were acquired and torn down with the help of off duty cops while the BBW waited for free spending tourists which never appeared.The villagers re-channeled their water and BBW is seldom seen in these parts.

Our usual spot in Toya Bungkah seems to be going strong as it has one of the few restaurants with electricity at night and a recently added pool (no villagers were evicted) The owner was a mountain guide made good. Well his Japanese wife and her mom sunk in some Yen to start up Lakeside Cottages and a trekking service for visitors. He actually met his wife while guiding her up the mountain. She’s a soft spoken unhurried woman who doesnt take kindly to loud, over inquisitive and gawking tourists especially from Japan! Once, she actually hid in the kitchen when some showed up. Rising before dawn to to open the gates, check on sprinklers and solar heaters, busy in the kitchen all day, writing up bills and receipts, pottering with her daisies after the rain and checking on security close to midnight. We’ve never really seen her sit or lie down, ever. Her name’s MUMMY!! Well husband and son usually shout that out when they want something. We’re just contented when she’s around to do some Japanese food and let us use one of her two Sony Vaio laptops.

A small road winds around the base of Mt Batur and is broken up in parts of its 28 kms. It makes a great day ride without panniers into rarely seen villages and farms. Some forested trails run deeper and mostly uphill into the mountains lower slopes. Steep crater walls rise almost vertically next to the single lane road.

The scenes here are almost prehistoric and you’d expect a T Rex to appear right round the next bend. If you manage to ride into Batur’s western flanks where the most recent eruptions took place, you’ll see a barren landscape of jet black volcanic rocks and sand. I guess the roads here get fixed and smoothened out every five years or so, meaning that they’re ridable for a year before being left to degrade for the next few years. If you’re on a full suspension mountain bike, rejoice. If not, take it slow and steady. Road or rock rash here can be deep and painful

As we had cycled around Mt Batur before, I decided to explore another off road route out of the main crater just beyond the village of Songan. We had hiked here in 02 and taking a mountain bike up this short but steep crack in the crater wall was on today’s agenda. A simple half day’s ride or so I thought.

The going gets steep and bumpy on the ‘road’ out of the crater. Unkind to tires, road bike chains, cycling shoes and Coleen’s nerves.

I had cycled up this stretch in 2000 in about 30 minutes but alas time and weather had taken its toll, It took us more than an hour of pushing and remounting and a twice broken chain on my bike (lesson learnt, leave a narrow Dura Ace chain for its intended use, on a road bike) to get to the top where the promise of flatter ground awaited us. Umm flatter only until it got steeper on a single track that went forever on a ridge line.

It was good to get to see where we’ll be cycling in the next few days along Bali’s north coast. Dead flat for about 100 kms. Coleen wont be missing any hills or rocky roads while I’m counting on a good tailwind. After seeing loaded motorcycles grinding their way up to this viewpoint and disappearing into the greenery below, there must be some trails all the way down to the coast. Motorbike, bicycle? There’s some potential here for exploring, but not today. It was time to turn around and head back the same way we came on back on the ridgeline and a scary bumpy downhill back to Toya Bungkah. OK I confess. I was looking forward to riding downhill on that rock laced excuse of a road. There wasnt going to be a crappier road than this once we start cycling on the coastal roads.

This is the end of the trail if you’re on a mountain bike. Steep and slippery footpaths extend way down to the Bali Aga village of Trunyan on the extreme left of the lake.(Pic above) Another path heads right up to Mt Abang in the clouds on the top left. Its possible to trek the whole circumference of the outer crater in about 12 hours according to the experts at Lakeside. The Bali Aga are a weird lot. They are the original people of Bali who were here long before any waves of migration from Majapahit Hindus and present day Balinese who fled Java when Islam took hold over most of Indonesia. Their remote location in front of a towering crater wall and the fact that their dead are not cremated or buried but left to decompose under a holy banyan tree that nullifies any bad odour, makes the curious even more curious. Actually the corpses are left to be eaten by birds and animals just like in ancient Mongolia and the tantric influenced Buddhists of Tibet.

Visitors pay a hefty sum to hire a boat from other villages to cross the lake and take a look. Pay some more to set foot in Trunyan. Pay again to see skeletal remains. Pay to use a camera and get this, pay an exit fee to leave the cemetery or something ominous will happen to you. Count on spending $50 or more per person if you want to see and take pictures of a few mossy skulls. Village kids will show you the way but the adults will wait stern faced and open handed. Not worth the time and trouble really.

 

 

Day 3: Into the mountains, Ubud to Lake Batur

Tuesday May 9, 2006, 28 km (17 miles) – Total so far: 38 km (24 miles)

It has begun. We finally get going on our third day. The best thing about cycling away from the excesses of Ubud is that we’ll be back in nine days, but more of that later. I’m rearing to go to see how long before I bonk while Coleen is a bit apprehensive at cycling all the way up to Penelokan on the cater rim of Mt Batur. A climb of 1200 meters in 30 kms. I stop a lot for photos while waiting for Col to catch up while keeping a watchful eye on her ‘systems’ Any dragging brakes, skipping chain or under inflated tires? Nope. And Mr Shimano will concur. I ‘reassured’ her that the downhills will come once we hit 1200 metres. Somehow that didnt go down as well as ‘Let’s look for some guy with an empty pick up if it rains’ Meanwhile we have a tandem gathering dust in Singapore.

Bali is famous for its rice terrace like these at Ceking, 16 kms north of Ubud. The road we’re on is lined with shops and drink stalls and white tour coaches. The terraces opposite remain the same for decades, if not centuries. Well once I heard a farmer shouting on his cell phone.

We make it halfway up the relentless climb to a viewpoint at Ceking for a well deserved pit stop before the clouds opened up 6 months before the rainy season. Well this is the tropics and it rains anytime you dont want it to. Small mountain hamlets like Ceking have some of the most photographed rice terraces in Bali. Where tourists stop to see the real Bali, someone will start selling drinks, his neighbour will open a small warung or food stall and a smart sister will have T shirts, beach shorts and buffalo horn carved chess sets for sale. Soon enough everyone wants in on the tourist trade as the white coaches from 5 star beach resorts start to jam up this single lane road to the mountains. One side of the valley prospers while the other watches the prosperity. What’s a farmer to do? He puts up shiny sheets of zinc along his much photographed curvy rice terraces, their highly reflective surfaces, to quote are ‘good for spoiling the view or photo’ Envy management, Balinese style.

After the rains let up, we ride for another 2 kms to the woodcarving village of Pujung in search of an elusive pick up truck. I guess in the real Bali, it’s more difficult to find a ride whereas in Ubud or the southern beach resorts you’ll hear offers of ‘transport’ or ‘taxi’ every 2 minutes. It took about 30 minutes of searching for someone willing to drive us the final 15 kms into the cloud shrouded crater village at Penelokan, where it rained heavily for another hour. Might as well get used to warung or street food like fried noodles and an excellent piping hot unfiltered cup of coffee while the bikes take a shower. Coleen brought out a small brown paper bag of bagels and cream cheese she had bought this morning from Ubud’s Bali Buddha Restaurant. Brilliant! Though our night’s accomodation was just a 13 km downhill ride away, the mountain air and rain was getting chilly and we could see our breaths. At least our stomachs were warm.

In recent years, the touting and hard selling of souvenirs and especially the guided pre dawn hike up to Mt Batur had become so bad that cycling through the area seemed to be the most logical way of visiting the mountain and its crater lake. The locals dont know what to make of cyclists and usually leave you alone unless you stop and get sweet talked into buying a 3 foot high woodcarving at a starting price of US$100. Tourists stepping off buses were hassled to buy postcards and t shirts. Those in rental cars had to wind up their windows if they didnt want fruit and woodcarvings in their face. I’ve had some nutcases sprint after I had driven away, banging their fists on the rear of my jeep. Somehow the idea of if you’re coming to see and photograph ‘my mountain’ you’d better buy some overpriced useless junk from me style of marketing, or else….is hardly that endearing. The end result? A sudden drop in tourists after the 2002 bombings in Kuta. Most shops and restaurants that serve bad and expensive food are history. The aggresive sellers have all but disappeared to other parts of Bali. A hardy few remain to taunt visitors who have been forewarned by Looney Planet. Its a real pity as the Batur area has one of most scenic mountain scenery, hiking and off road cycling trails in Bali, if not all of Indonesia.

Thankfully we have an old friend who runs the Lakeside Cottages with his Japanese wife right at the water’s edge where we usually stay for 2 nights. I had planned another detour, a longer ride around the base of the Mt Batur, adding another 20 kms or so before reaching our rooms. This road is just like riding on the moon, just like because I’ve never been to the moon. A winding trail makes its way among huge volcanic rocks and lava fields from past and recent eruptions. Looking at the thick fog after the heavy rains and guessing that some parts might be flooded, it was time for Plan B. Head directly to Lakeside for 10 kms on a brand new road where a hot pot of coffee might be brewing.