Freddie's illness continued for a few days. It was in these days we did our research and discovered the magic that is Yakult, a yogurt based drink that wards off the Bali Belly. From that point on it would, along with Pocari Sweat (Isotonic drink), become our daily staple. In attempt to recover from the illness we braved an 8km ride to Lovina where we spent the next two days. Arthur and Sean even managed to get some snorkelling in while Freddie sat in bed dreaming of simple pleasures like a loaded toilet roll and a healthy portion of hand sanitiser.
We continued up the coast and the further up we got the fewer tourists we saw. We spent a night in Banyuwedan which felt intrepid for us. There were no westerners to be seen and hardly any facilities for tourists. We had a fantastic meal for $11 NZD and played football with the local kids on the beach which quickly erased any nerves we had. We were still on Bali after all. The next day brought with it the first real milestone - leaving Bali and beginning our Javanese adventure. The port town of Gilimanuk on Bali offered little other than a way across the channel. The boat, despite being large which is usually quite reassuring, looked like it shouldn't have floated. Large pieces of rusty steel that one day were evidently integral to its structure were hanging loosely and water appeared to be entering the hull at this point. We made it to the other side without incident and were entertained by locals who were completely overwhelmed with Sean's complexion and Arthur's height. Freddie, being a smaller version of Arthur, was left out of the photo shoot.
Riding off the boat was a nerve wracking experience. We were on an Island not overly famous for its tourism but famous for being the most populated island in the world. With a population density of more than 1000 people per kilometre Java certainly was daunting. Riding to our homestay we could already hear multiple different choirs of chants from the numerous Mosques in the area, something we would have to get very used to. To our delight when we arrived at our homestay we found a small group of travellers sitting poolside, each with a large Bintang in hand. Whether it was the ability to open a cold beer at the end of the day or the thought that where we were wasn't so far from what we consider to be reality we were relieved. Maybe Java wasn't as alien as our preconceived notions suggested? Being woken up at 4:30 am to what we considered to be obnoxiously loud chanting being blasted from every Mosque in town answered the question. In New Zealand if you tried to make that much noise at that ungodly hour you would have half the Auckland Police Force knocking on your door. None of us would ever think to make that much noise at that hour in the morning (I write with a naughty little grin).
The next day we rode 80kms to a motel just outside a town called Situbondo. It was a lovely ride with a tail wind for the duration. The roads had deteriorated significantly however, despite being on State Highway 1. We stopped regularly for bananas, energy drinks and our diet of oreos, white bread and chips. Little did we know at the time but we were having a lunch we would have to get used to. Being in the largest Muslim country in the world during Ramadan means there are few lunch options - not ideal for cycle tourists, burning thousands of calories per day. During this first day of riding we certainly noticed a change in the people. Everyone was looking at us like we were out of place. Most of the time we received a strange look that was followed by a smile, a wave, and a 'Hello Mister!' Plenty of photos were taken.
We started to get into quite an effective rhythm. Waking up early we would have breakfast, pack the bikes, and get on the road before our usual stops for morning tea and a makeshift lunch. We made good progress to Probolinggo, a small town that offered some diving and snorkelling options. There were a small number of tourists around but we still got the looks. It was here we had the worst meal of our collective existence. Having ridden for hours naturally we were hungry. We sat down at the hotel restaurant and ordered a vegetarian margarita pizza each. What came out close to an hour later was a spaghetti omelet with a side of tomato sauce. Freddie, who after 40 minutes went to buy Snickers chocolate bars, was particularly distressed.
Whether it was the all too recent memories of the disastrous 'pizza' or the complete lack of any real offering to travellers, we moved out of Probolinggo first thing the next day. We planned to ride to Trawas, a mountain resort town where we were going to treat ourselves to a rest day in relative comfort. We started early and knocked off almost 60kms before 11am. At that point the road started to go up. It kept going up. At points on the road the gradients were so steep we had to walk the bikes. We then got hit by a tropical rain storm. Nothing like having to really earn your rest days!
Rest days are absolutely crucial, not only to rest the body, but to rest the mind. In Trawas we found our comfort in a resort style hotel that put on all you can eat buffet breakfasts and dinners. They certainly had their regrets at enabling us as we did our utmost to make a significant dent into their food stores. It didn't seem to matter as they seemed overjoyed to ply us with as much food as we could eat. Here we ate Mie Goreng, Nasi Goreng, chicken satay skewers, omelets, and a variety of desserts and fruit. Beers cost $8 NZD which was an absolute travesty and upset us no end. Being on such a tight budget we had to go without. As the hotel staff described the previous New Zealander who had been at the hotel it was probably a good thing we abstained:
'Big man! He drank many beers. He even had his own bottle of vodka which he mixed with juice and had in the pool with him! And lots of beers!'
One man single handedly exporting Kiwi culture to the world. Muslim country or otherwise.
A long day of lounging by the all you can eat buffet, relaxing by the pool, and playing table tennis and pool came to an end. The next few days we planned to cycle to Yogykarta, the cultural heart of Java.
