 |
A Land of Volcanoes - Yogya to Malang |  |
|
| East
Java
13th October |
Yogyakarta and the beautiful relaxed and friendly surroundings of the
Novotel would come to an end all too quickly for the team - and once
again we would find ourselves heading out on to the long road once
again. This is however not before we have the opportunity to celebrate
our good fortune of being so well accommodated. At the Yogya Cafe Tim
brings the house down (well almost) with a rendition of 'It had to be
you!'. We knew he should have stayed as a shower/bathroom
singer........but now there seems to be no stopping him! We wonder what
his Dad might say if he could see him singing a Karaoke rendition of
'Please Release Me!'. We have chance to toast Vincent our generous host
for the last few days. He promises us that he will be visiting us in
England - 'to enjoy some of the famous English Pubs'. His encouragement
to us has been a huge lift - and his help in arranging forward
accommodation too is invaluable - merci Vincent - et merci Novotel. For
once the fruits of our press conference hit the streets before we have
left town - and we make front page news on one of Yogyas editions. As we
pedal along the old colonial backstreets of the Kraton - we can see
people pointing us out - and even a couple of times they wave the
newspapers at us - a strange feeling indeed! The road out of Yogya is
one of those for which Java is infamous. We have no choice but to follow
it as far as Solo - our next destination. The upside of this route
however is that we pass directly by the towering Hindu temple of
Prambanan. Dating back some 1000 years to a similar time to Borobudur,
we wonder whether there was any rivalry between the two opposing sets of
temple builders? Certainly this is another hugely impressive site -
particularly the mighty Shiva temple that stands in the centre of the
whole complex. We have just a few fleeting moments to wander around each
of the temples, and to try and sample a little of the ancient ruins
atmosphere before we're off again. Our next stop is the city of Solo.
Annoyingly - with all our messing around in the morning we have managed
to arrive after nightfall again - and on possibly one of the most
dangerous roads of our journey so far. Lorries weave violently across
our path - as we dive into the gutter, trying desperately to preserve
our lives. We curse as the monsoon rains hammer us (with our recent rest
days the rains seem to have finally caught up with us once again), and
the road dirt flicks up over us. The street lights of Solo are certainly
a relieving sight - and we hope now that we shall be a little safer from
the 'harri-carri' Indonesian driving antics. We're a sorry sight as we
pull in to the Novotel - and the doorman actually turns to us and says
'Yes - what do you want?' - hardly surprising really - guess not too
many long distance adventurers turn up at the Novotel in Solo.
From here we're on the road - still heading East - and hoping to get to the foot of Mt Bromo in 3 days - to the city of Malang. Our ride of 275km is punctuated by the small towns of Ngawi - and Kediri. The first 2 days see us pedalling through the heart of Java - on surprisingly flat roads. We have come to discover - by observation - that Java is actually a fairly flat island - but has been interrupted by the dramatic upsurging of the huge conical thrusts of a procession of volcanoes. Fortunately our route brings us safely around the bottom of 2 of these monsters - before our last day into Malang. Rice paddies and palm trees continue to surround us, rural scenes at the roadside - but modern day traffic continues to roar past us. Although we consider that usually each of us is generally quite polite - and we don't usually like to offend people - we behave quite badly in a small restaurant in Kediri. When the woman serves us up our Nasi Campur - we are presented with a stone cold plate of meat, veg and hot spicy sauce, we unanimously turn round and ask her to take it away again. She comes back a moment later with a plate of lentil curry...........we pay for our drinks and we get up and make our way to another restaurant. Sometimes we just have to try and think of the repercussions of these dishes that are presented to us - particularly after having been ill quite recently - I don't want a repeat! The same evening after successfully locating some good clean food, I return to the hotel - and without Tim and Andrew, I have absolutely no idea where our room is. I'm not too sure what is happening - but similar disorientation have now happened 2 or 3 times in close succession. Is it remembering a simple number of a room? - or could it be that my head is saying that enough is enough? - I do a quick calculation - and I estimate that we've probably stayed in close on 150 different bedrooms since we left - remembering a new layout each night is clearly taking its toll!!! In sharp contrast to the previous 2, our next day brings us up a stiff climb to just over 1000m - as we now rather than skirting the volcanoes - we are riding straight into the heart of them. We sweat and toil away - but of course we know very well that this is only a tiny taster of what lies ahead for us. From Malang our route will take us over Mt Bromo and through its huge crater - East Javas most sacred volcano - a focal point for the Javanese - and for travellers alike. In preparation we pause for a day in Malang - to maintain our bikes, to feed, and to get some good quality sleep in. In Malang we watch a magical sunset over the last Volcano that we skirted to reach the city - and we also decide to visit the Grand Mosque in the city centre. As Dean and I approach the gates we can't quite decipher the Indonesian sign that greets us. So we march past. On making our way towards the entrance we're shepherded in separate directions - to the segregated praying areas I presume. I'm treated like royalty, and am given a robe to put over the top of my shorts, and am shown the intricate procedure for correct washing on the way into a Mosque - starting from the head and working downwards. Then once inside I am joined by over a dozen praying men who try to get me to join in - I just sit quietly amongst them as they rock backwards and forwards and stand up, then sit down quietly reciting their prayers to themselves. It’s a peaceful time in the hurly burly of Indonesian living - and when I come out I feel relaxed and happy. I find Dean sitting outside the women’s section - and eagerly go over to find out about her experience - she laughs and explains that she wasn't even allowed in. Now that is Dean's point in a nutshell. She has been explaining to me (without much success admittedly) that although we are visiting the same places - she is having an altogether different experience in Indonesia due to the way that society perceives her. This is a perfect example I guess. Both Andrew and I have been fantastically received in all the Islamic countries we have visited - but how would it be for 2 women cycling? |
||