Category: Indonesia

The ferry arrived in the town of Merak on Java after dark. Having managed to get some sleep on the boat, I felt pretty energised and decided to ride into the night to escape the port town and reduce the riding time to Jakarta the following day.

Java, though smaller than Britain, has a population of 151,600,000, roughly the same as Russia, making its population density higher than Singapore. This high density made wild camping a challenge, as I often struggled to find empty flat land each night, leading to some interesting camp spots. Fortunately that night, I stumbled upon a perfect abandoned building in a field and set up my tent.

The ride into Jakarta was a few hours along very busy roads. The city felt overwhelmingly crowded but wasn’t too touristy. Walking around was quite challenging due to few pavements and constant streams of motorbikes on the roads. Additionally, the food was about double the price of what I’d been paying the previous day.

Escaping the city proved surprisingly easy with unexpected bike paths. The rest of the day was spent riding along the same busy road, and by afternoon, I was feeling exhausted from the constant traffic noise paired with the fumes from trucks coating me in a layer of dirt. As evening approached, the rain started again, and I sought shelter in a restaurant. The owner, upon learning I was camping, kindly took me to her home to shower and then to her father’s house to stay. Her father, who spoke some English, shared stories of his time as a driver for international businessmen in Jakarta and Saudi Arabia. It was a fascinating glimpse into their lives, noticing how sparsely furnished their homes were, with beds just being mats on the floor.

The next morning, we shared breakfast, eating goreng, which translates literally to fried and is a mixture of various deep-fried doughs, mostly tasting like doughnuts. Returning to the road, I continued towards Java’s south coast, heading uphill to cross the highlands in the centre of the island. This involved passing through the busy city of Bandung, stopping to enjoy some local coffee.

The road became steeper toward the summit, and I ended up mostly pushing my bike along a very narrow, quiet road winding through the jungle. From the top, there was a beautiful view of the valley below, followed by a great descent through small villages.

However, the road gradually worsened, and the route I had planned took me down some very questionable tracks, some of which were unrideable due to steepness and mud. Then the rain began, heavy enough to soak me through. Eventually, I found a small hut where I slept, exhausted from the hills and tough conditions.

The next morning, my phone wasn’t working, likely due to getting too wet. I ended up buying a cheap second-hand one (with quite a disappointing camera) from a phone shop and checking into a hostel by the coast for some much needed rest, trying to plan out my final 15 days of the trip.

I had considered taking a bus part of the way, as cycling the entire remaining 1000km was ambitious. It was also going to be ramadan in 10 days, something I was interested in experiencing but didn’t fancy having too many days on the bike where I would be unable to eat or drink during daylight. However, in the end, I decided to go for it and ride the whole way, knowing it would be tough but a good way to finish the trip.

The next day brought some of the worst rain I’d ever witnessed. Completely soaked, I rushed to a restaurant for shelter, and despite eating an hour before, ordered another meal. Sitting inside with the owners, we witnessed lightning strike a telephone pole on the other side of the street, a reminder of the power of mother nature.

After a few hours I left and after riding a little further, found a sleeping spot in a park. The restaurant owners, three-generations of a family, let me stay on a bench. The father then got me to pick his lottery numbers and I guess I did an alright job as I got a message the following week from the daughter asking me to pick the numbers again.

Next stop: Yogyakarta, a beautiful city and the cultural centre of Java. It had a European feel with a busy high street and Western-style shops.

To help manage the hot humid weather, I drank lots of the local iced tea costing just 15p for a large cup. While eating outside a shop, a local school teacher struck up a conversation and later returned with a large bag of clothes and a pair of shoes for me. I accepted a t-shirt and a pair of shorts and it was clear he thought my clothes weren’t looking too great, which he was probably correct about.

That night, whilst searching for somewhere to sleep, a kind man took me to a 24hr Warung, which are a bit of a mix between a cafe and restaurant. After he spoke to his friend the owner, I was taken to a back room where they kindly offered me a bed for the night along with a shower.

Heading east, I reached the lower slopes of the infamous Mt. Bromo, an active volcano. The climb was one of the toughest of the trip taking over 4 hours to complete, with steep inclines requiring lots of pushing my bike and I was under a bit of time pressure wanting to camp out on the top for sunrise.

Waking up early, I was greeted with thick cloud cover and had a short ride across the black volcanic sand towards the base of the crater. Climbing up in order to look down into the volcano, I was definitely glad the wind was blowing the fumes away from me and there was a strong sulphur smell in the air. It was an amazing experience to look down into the crater with the mystery of not knowing what was below, due to the volcanic gases rising up.

After an easy descent to the coast, I spent a night sleeping at a beach with three cats for company.

Now, I had to climb Mt. Ijen before reaching Bali. This was another tough climb with lots of rain on the way up. Near the top, I encountered a beautiful waterfall and stream with bright green water, a result of its acidity.

Arriving at the official national park section, I was disappointed to find I couldn’t buy a ticket without a doctor’s note certifying my fitness. It was quite clear I wasn’t going to change the ticket seller’s mind to let me walk the last 2km to the summit and see the volcanic lake. This really annoyed me and made me realise I didn’t truly appreciate the wilderness of central Asia where the incredible landscapes hadn’t been turned into a tourist attraction.

Frustrated, I descended to the ferry port on the east of Java, taking the boat to Bali.

I spent a few nights in the surfing town of Canggu, celebrating Balinese New Year with an evening at the Ogoh Ogoh parade where local groups construct large figures to ward off unwanted spirits. This is only celebrated in Bali as the major religion of the island is Hinduism.

The day after is Nyepi, Balinese New Year where everything was shut and everyone stays home. This ended up being pretty tough not able to leave the hostel for a day.

The remaining days were spent relaxing, surfing and drinking coffee in the cheap bakeries. I was enjoying not doing much, in the utopian bubble of Bali. It had a very western feel and everyone just seemed to happy there, feeling so different to the traditional way on the other side of the island or on Java.

Finally, I spent two nights in Kuta near the airport washing all my gear, preparing it for the Australian border force and finding a box for my bike. Then I had the final ride of the trip, a 5km journey to Denpasar airport.

Overall, Indonesia was a hard country to travel through. The weather was tough, battling through rain and heat with the added challenge of making it to Bali in 30 days before my visa expired. The cultural experience was incredible however, I wasn’t expecting to have so many people helping me and I loved the food and enjoyed the company of the incredibly hospitable locals.

Landing at Sydney airport, I had no issues with taking the bike through customs and was greeted by my sister, after not seeing her for 2 years. I was feeling quite relieved to finally make it to Australia having achieved what I set out to do.

Getting the ferry to the island of Sumatra from Malaysia turned out to be a bit stressful due to my oversight of arriving at the ferry port with no local currency, just assuming they would accept card. Fortunately, Nathan lent me some cash and I managed to scrape by with my remaining USD, barely enough to cover the ferry fare, baggage, and my Indonesian visa.

The chaos continued at the arrival port, where bags were haphazardly thrown from the ferry, and I had to scramble to retrieve all my baggage and bike. After navigating a straightforward visa process, I had to unpack everything for an x-ray scan.

Dumai, my entry point to Sumatra, was a bustling and intense city. Upon leaving the ferry port, I quickly found a bank and food shop but annoyingly couldn’t set my phone up with an Indonesian sim despite a kind man driving me on the back of his motorbike to 5 different phone shops. The problem being my international phone wasn’t registered in the country, so I’d just have to rely on finding wifi in places.

Indonesia marked the final leg of my journey. I had a 30-day visa and a flight booked from Bali to Sydney in exactly 30 days. It was probably going to be too ambitious to cycle all the way, or at least result in me missing some of the highlights, so I planned to take at least one bus to skip some sections.

The people in Indonesia were the friendliest I’d encountered anywhere, often shouting at me with enthusiastic “hello mister!” greetings. While heartwarming, it often became annoying when occurring every 30 seconds through towns and when I’d find Wi-Fi, then get interrupted with people asking for photos or wanting to talk.

It was also still the rainy season, so I encountered daily downpours, typically starting around 3 pm and lasting into the night. In urban areas like Pikanburu, the streets often turned into rivers creating awful traffic.

One notable difference in Indonesia from other countries was the acceptability of sleeping anywhere, such as truck stops or cafes, which were often open 24 hours a day. However, the downside was occasional disturbances, such as people watching loud videos at 3 am. There were also many abandoned buildings to shelter in each night. I also spent nights at mosques, although the early morning call to prayer disrupted my sleep, but the benefits of clean toilets and showers generally out-weighted this.

The buildings were an interesting style with pointed roofs. Something I didn’t see anywhere else.

Heading towards the west coast, I traversed mountains and encountered the iconic Kelok 9, an impressive stretch of road.

From here, the road descended into the city of Penang, passing some amazing lakes.

The traffic has probably been the worst of anywhere so far. With the roads just being constant streams of motorbikes. In addition at all the junctions, men would be directing traffic taking payment before walking out into the road stopping the traffic for anyone trying to turn right. Every car was pretty much forced to pay them as they wouldn’t be able to turn otherwise.

Along the coast, I sought shelter and food at a waterfront restaurant, where I met Donnie, a woodcarver who generously offered me a place to stay at his home. He spoke good english, having learnt it using TikTok. I shared a very spicy meal with his family, and he showed me around the house they’d built. The next morning, Donnie took me on his motorbike into his town to get breakfast.

Continuing along the coast was challenging, with steep climbs and rainstorms. One afternoon, I accepted an offer to sleep at a restaurant at 2pm deciding not to venture out into the relentless rain at all. This may have been a mistake as despite the place being quite during the day, it became filled in the evening with a lively atmosphere of coffee-drinking patrons playing cards late into the night.

Rejoining the main road, I continued along the coast for three more days sleeping on a beautiful beach one night.

From the city of Bengkulu, I took a 20-hour bus ride to Bandar Lampung. This bus was quite nice and kept interesting with buskers getting on at the start of towns playing a song then hopping off at the other end of the town.

After leaving the bus, I rode for a few hours to the southern point of Sumatra then caught a ferry costing only £2 for the two-hour journey to the island of Java.

While Sumatra didn’t match my wilderness expectations, it offered a rich cultural experience. The food has been great but incredibly spicy, something that took me a week to get used to. I’ve really enjoyed the very sweet black coffee and I’ll remember the generosity of the people who have been wonderful.