Sulawesi? Where’s that?! I had no idea where I’m heading, what the place looks like or what can I expect there. When I was looking at the map of Indonesia the other day, the island caught my eye with its peculiar shape and I decided to go there. Just like that. The idea is to buy a bicycle and take it easy through small roads and villages, meeting people and learning from them about the life on the island. Without any prejudices and with an open mind. This is going to be the journey of learning, sharing and understanding.
In Makassar (my flight was Denpasar-Makassar) I buy a used city bicycle for ladies, with a rusty frame and only 6 gears for 50€. With this piece of scrap metal on wheels I want to start a 2000km long journey across the 11th biggest island in the world, Sulawesi in Indonesia. With the help of my friends Ikhsan and his brother Awe, who are kind enough to let me stay in their house for several days, I am able to put all the stuff together and set off a few days later. Ikhsan turned the house into a school and walls into blackboards to teach English and educate the less privileged ones. His project is called EFA – English For All, and I will be happy to carry this name on my bike and spread the word about this inspiring project. If you have any English books you don’t need and want to donate for a good cause, get in touch, the resources in Sulawesi are very limited! Also if you want to volunteer in EFA as a teacher and help out the local community, check out the web page http://www.efa-mks.com/beavolunteer and contact Ikhsan directly, Im sure he will be more than happy!
Sulawesi DAY 1 (73km) Seggeri
I barely get any time to have a shower because the reporter from Kompas TV is knocking on the door with his camera ready to catch me what Im packing and how Im loading it on the bike. As usual, simplicity is the key, and Im not taking anything special apart from a few shirts, a couple of shorts, one sweatshirt and flip flops plus some electronics and simple tools to fix the bike. All in all, not more than 7kg. Im tying my backpack against the rack with bungee ropes when the reporter asks me to comment on what Im doing so its clear enough for everyone once it will be aired on TV. Im doing a test ride to the end of the street and back before I announce that Im ready to set off. Who knew that I would have a convoy of 2 motorbikes with a TV crew following me for the first 54 kilometres! Filming me as I go from dozens of different angles, taking pictures and even interviewing me about my intentions to cross the island and expectations on the road. I still don’t think I deserve such media attention because there is nothing shocking or breaking about what I do. I just ride my bike! But this is not how Ikhsan and Awe see it. According to them, its a great opportunity to promote Sulawesi to Indonesian people if a foreigner crosses the island on a bicycle and tells his story about what he encountered on the way – and here comes the most important part – the whole account will be translated to Bahasa Indonesia. That’s what is going to be different. Awe knows there are stories and articles about people travelling in Sulawesi, but all are in English and just a handful of them are translated so the majority of Indonesians never get a chance to read them. He’s got a point and I agreed to go with him to the local newspapers where we cracked a deal for a daily column for the first week and TV Kompas which agreed to come and meet me in every major town on the way to Manado. Now I carry the names and logos of the media on my bike together with the big letters EXPEDITION.
Its fine with me as long as I can promote the island and encourage Indonesians to travel here and make them aware of the unique culture, traditions, food and beauty of Sulawesi from the perspective of a random guy from Slovakia. It actually sounds like lots of fun! After I say bye to the TV crew and my friends, Im left all by myself. Now its all up to me. I enjoy the free ride until the dark clouds show up. Then suddenly heavy rain drops start rolling down my glasses making them impossible to see through. I quickly put the jacket with a hoodie on and leave my glasses in a pocket. My blurred vision is not too much of a burden since its pouring so heavily by now that I have to keep my head down and follow only the road immediately ahead of me or else I would have my eyes full of water and see nothing at all. Its the 19th of January and the rainy season is in its full power. I endure the torrential rain for about 2 hours but I have enough. I stop in front of a beautiful wooden house on stilts, overlooking the paddy fields. Here its all down to my magic paper (I had one when I was travelling in Iran in 2013) which says who I am and what Im doing, all translated to Bahasa Indonesia and even includes the reference to Ikhsan and his phone number to show my host that this person can vouch for me. Im invited to the house, treated like a member of the family and told to feel like at home. The degree of trust between them and me as a stranger who basically randomly invited himself to their home is incredible. Everyone is so relaxed and welcoming, trying to communicate with me despite the language barrier and they even make a great effort to teach me Bahasa throughout all evening. Food is certainly one of those things that breaks all the barriers and the family understands right away when I make mmmmm sounds after I taste the fish, chicken, noodles and rice they prepared and kindly shared with me. This is international and doesn’t need any translation! I get my own room in the house and nod off happily.
Sulawesi DAY 2 (85km) Pare Pare
After nasi goreng for breakfast and a cup of tea I say bye to my hosting family. Before I hop on the bike, the father writes me a reference in Bahasa Indonesia which says that I stayed with his family for a night and that I was very much interested in the culture and food (haha) and that I was a nice guest and they were happy to have me. All this plus the name, address and phone number of the father in case my next host wants to check on me. Forget internet my friends, this is how offline couchsurfing works! Magic paper explaining who I am and what I do, plus handwritten references from the people I stayed with and who can vouch for me. No internet and no mobile phone! On the way I have a break in front of a mosque and when I do some back stretches someone shouts hello at me. Its another biker who is also going to Pare Pare! Its quite a rare sight to witness adults on bicycles as the overwhelming majority rides motorbikes and push bikes are used almost exclusively by kids. But even this is not a rule since children as young as 8 or 9 years old can be seen speeding down the road on their Honda or Yamaha. We keep each other company until my new friend decides to stop for an early lunch after just maybe 5km of riding together. I carry on. The road is rather flat all the way to Pare Pare and goes by the coastline for a good part. In the city I ask a friendly looking and smiling man in front of a mosque whether I can sleep in his house using the magic paper supported with the references. He immediately says yes and takes me home with him where I meet his extended family including three teenagers. I have a shower and the teenagers want to take me to a university where currently the event called Super English Camp is taking place. Secondary school and university students from many schools from Sulawesi come here every year and stay for a full week, living on site and strictly speaking only English. They are overexcited when I come along with my new teenage friends and no, Im not exaggerating at all. We can’t event walk from one building to another without being encircled by dozens of students (mostly girls :)) who want to talk to me and take photos. Its all nice but a bit too much for me at this moment, being tired from the bike, so we decide to go back to the house where the family prepares dinner. We all (maybe 12 people) share the food, sit on the floor and eat with hands whilst they give me lessons in Indonesian and even tribal languages Bugis and Makassar. I would lie though, if I said I still remember something! Second night when I sleep on a proper bed. It feels good!
Sulawesi DAY 3 (75km) Enrekang
For breakfast we have rice. Rice in the morning, for lunch and dinner. I don’t mind it too much because I like rice but for some people it might be a problem. Family shows me the birds they keep in cages and I ask why they keep them. The answer is very simple, solely because they like the way they sing in the morning! And they even have one who is native to Papua. In total, they have 7 cages and 7 birds who jump up and down and hop from side to side in small spaces. Because some people like how they sing. I pretend to understand and focus on the another interesting feature of the house which is a tiny pool filled with colourful Koi fish from Japan. Apparently the reason why they keep them is because they have calming effect on the family and its easy to relax when you sit around and watch them. I only nod my head and smile as there is a language barrier between us. Oh, by the way, for the whole last day I was looking to buy a hat, ideally white one, as a protection against the sun. This morning the father gives me a white hat as a present! And I never told anyone about it, it just happened, out of the blue! Telepathy works. Then father writes me a reference and off I go towards Enrekang. The road is very scenic and takes me through many hills which means lots of climbs but also some nice downhills. People along the way are very supportive and always show their interest in what I do by calling at me “Hey mister, mister!” In fact, I hear the word mister so many times a day that Im starting to be allergic to it. In India they call me sir, in Indonesia mister and in Europe no one cares. Funny world. I try to greet the local people, wave and smile at them but there is only as much I can do. No matter how hard I try, there’s always going to be more people saying hello to me than I can answer back in time without falling down from the bike. So yes, people in Sulawesi are very friendly and curious. Heavy rain catches me 6km before my destination for today and I decide to stretch my back and sleep in one of the empty shelters along the road, used for selling boiled corn and coffee in the day time.
Sulawesi DAY 4 (40km) Kalosi
I get up early, pack up my stuff and go down the hill to Enrekang. Little did I know this was going to be my last ride for the whole day when I don’t need to pedal like a maniac. Yes, from here the road goes only up, up and even higher. And the fact that I bought a bike with just 6 gears (mountain bikes have normally 27!) takes the struggle to a whole new level and sometimes Im left with no choice but to push the bike. Also it is meant to be a rainy season here in January but it rains mostly only in the night and in the day time its freaking hot and Im sweating like a pig. But step by step somehow I keep making progress and eventually reach Kalosi, my destination for today. The timing is perfect because 5 minutes after I arrive it starts to rain like there is no tomorrow. I get invited to a house where only girls live, and its like bloody 15 of them! All age groups, shapes and sizes you can imagine. Im not joking, actually I think there are more than 15 girls and no boys. Not even a single one! And they are all super excited, wanting to talk to me, cook for me, take a photo of me and god knows what else. Someone would think that I arrived to paradise but I feel like in a hive with hundreds of bees buzzing around me. Im tired from the day on a bike and in this house there is everything apart from peace, relax and silence I need so much right now. In fact, in the last 30 minutes since I got into the house, the girls have taken countless number of photos and selfies and haven’t stopped talking and giggling. When they start comparing noses and pointing out how beautiful is my nose because its big and theirs are small and flat, I know its time to get up, say thank you and go. Few kilometers later I find a man who is polishing a small gem against the bamboo wood so it is smooth enough and fits perfectly into the ring. He speaks good English since he works for a multinational mining corporation and is quite well off because he can support his 3 wives and 7 children. There is no need to use the magic paper as he offers me to stay in his house without asking. Its one of his 3 houses where one of his 3 wives lives. We eat lots. He teaches me some new Indonesian words which come in handy when Im trying to talk with his 92 years old dad who can read even the tiniest letters without glasses. His secret is to sprinkle cold water into the open eyes every morning after he wakes up. Apparently, after a year I won’t need to wear glasses at all. Im not sure about it but the old man is a living example. Probably because he has never worked on a computer or watched a TV. Before I go to sleep, Im introduced to a thing called sarung. Sarung looks like a sack without the bottom that is made of fabrics. The ways sarung can be used are basically unlimited. People use it as a blanket, skirt, rain coat, chair (it can be worn in such a way that it supports your back and arms when you sit!), and Im sure there are many more I haven’t discovered yet.
Sulawesi DAY 5 (38km) Makale
When I was complaining yesterday about the crazy never ending road that goes only up, today Im riding the bike with a smile on my face. What goes up will at some point go back down and this is this moment. The road is very scenic with lost of beautiful views to the mountains and valleys. The architecture has also changed and now I see all around me houses with roofs shaped like bananas. Another change is that in Tana Toraja (the area around Makale and Rantepao) the majority of people are christians so there is an interesting mix of churches and mosques built right next to one another. Christianity also brings beer and pork to stir up the traditional dishes of nasi goreng (fried rice) and mie goreng (fried noodles), usually made with chicken or fish. My friend Ikhsan from Makassar got me in touch with his friend Beatrix from Makale so I texted her to see if she can set me up for tonight and she replied that it will be her pleasure! Despite working the night shifts and being tired, Beatrix comes to get me on a motorbike and I follow her home. She drives so fast that I can barely keep up! Im introduced to her family and 2 lovely kids, then I get my own en-suite room and lunch before she goes to work. What a caring girl! There’s not much time to socialise now but Beatrix asks me to wake up at 5am tomorrow so she can pick me up after her shift and take me to the mountains to watch the sun rise. Yes, please! I spend my evening reading Paulo Coelho’s The Alchemyst. This book is just so fitting to what I do recently and I can relate so much that I keep re-reading sentence after sentence and applying the thoughts to my life…
Sulawesi DAY 6 (0km) Makale
Beatrix was asked to stay in the hospital where she works for 3 more hours due to the emergency they have. When she gets back we have breakfast together and off we go to the mountains to explore the culture of Toraja on a scooter. I knew little bit but I didn’t know enough to be prepared for the shock that awaits me. After riding through the maze of up and down roads, we arrive to a cave that serves as a burial site. Carved into a rocky cliff, there are human bones and skulls scattered all over the cave with coins and cigarettes that were given as offerings to the descended people by their relatives. On the top, hanging off the walls, are wooden dolls dressed in clothes and painted to look like the people who died. Baby graves are even more unique. There is a big tree. The kind of a tree that when the trunk is tapped, the white liquid comes out. It is hugely importnat because people believe that the white liquid is a substitude for mother’s breastfeeding so the child will continue to live without the mother. They cut out a bit of a tree trunk, put a dead baby inside the tree and cover the hole with leaves and wood. In time, as the tree grows, it will heal up and seal the hole with the baby inside so it will become one with the tree and grow together forever. Im quickly starting to understand why so many people think that the culture of Toraja is so unique. But its still nothing compared to what comes next. Beatrix takes me to visit her friends in a village.
They live in one of those beautiful banana shaped houses with buffalo horns and skulls hanging off the wall at the door front and have other, smaller, banana shaped houses to store the rice and keep it dry. All more or less normal for now. We are invited to come in. As we walk through the corridor, we are asked to follow the hosts to the room next to the living room and say hello to their grandma. It would be all fine and normal only if the grandma wasn’t dead for over 3 years!!! There is a coffin on the table in the middle of the room with the dead body of a woman dressed in clothes and still wearing glasses! The family speaks to the dead grandma and tells her that Im from Slovakia and I came to see her and then they ask me to say hello to her. She died 3 years ago. I really don’t know how to feel and what to do. Should I be happy and cheerful and just talk to her about how are the things? Should I say thank you to the hosts for introducing me to your grandma? Should I express my sorrow and offer condolences? They all smile and joke around like she is still alive. And that’s the whole point. They do things like she is still living with them. Well, in fact, she actually still lives with them in the same house and they even bring her breakfast, lunch and dinner every day! The family is going to keep her in the house until they can save up enough money to afford the funeral. Funerals in Toraja are huge ceremonies that last up to a week, where buffalos and pigs are slaughtered and everyone is welcomed to join in. When its all over, the body is finally burried in a cave. Beatrix tells me that when one of her relatives died, the family kept the body in the house for 12 years until they got enough money to hold the funeral. Once a year, there’s even a ritual when people wash the mummies, dress them in new clothes and walk them in a village to socialise with the others! People here are devoted Christians who combine and practise their religion together with animist beliefs, magic and mysticism and that’s what makes the culture so unique. To me, it seems like everything is pretty ordinary here but only until someone dies. That’s when things go beyond interesting!
Sulawesi DAY 7 (0km) Makale
Beatrix did a night shift again and it is no earlier than 9am when she gets back from work with a smile on the face and full of positive energy. I don’t know where she gets it from if this girl hardly sleeps, works long night shifts and then in the morning happily drives me around and spends her free time showing me places she visited at least hundreds of times. She’s an angel and thats a huge understatement! This morning Beatrix takes me to Rantepao where we visit some more burial sites, see even more skulls and bones, crawl through narrow cave tunnels to see coffins with dead bodies, climb rocks with graves carved in and Im slowly getting used to the presence of death around me. Its everywhere, visible for all, everyone is talking about it, anyone can have a look inside the coffin and take pictures. Death is no secret here. But let’s go back to life now. Beatrix wants to show me the view over the terraced rice fields, which I find really breathtaking. We just sit silently and admire what we have in front of our eyes, when one of us breaks the silence. I say how much it means to me that Beatrix choose to spend her free time with me, barely sleeping, despite her having a family and being busy with so many things and how I appreciate what is she doing. We talk about the magic words please and thank you and how people can sense when someone goes out of their way. You either enjoy doing it or you do it because you feel obliged to do so. There is no point in doing things you don’t want to do and push yourself to situations that don’t make you happy. Luckily, Beatrix speaks The Language of the World (the unspoken, wordless expression of the soul, universal for all human beings in the world – The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho) and I understand the language too. We are on the same page. On the way back, I drive her scooter through the heavy rain and narrow steep roads that are in an absolutely disastrous state. Even parts of the main road are flooded and there are moments when the water reaches nearly until our feet on the motorbike. By the time we get home, its nearly 24 hours since Beatrix had some sleep. How is this girl doing it? I will miss this angel and her 2 children a lot.
Sulawesi DAY 8 (95km) Batusitanduk
The road takes me again to Rantepao and from there it goes down the mountains for more than 20 kilometers through the thick jungle and clouds that are so low that I can nearly touch them. No people live here and only few cars pass. When I reach the seaside town Palopo, I buy a whole durian to celebrate that I crossed the mountains and everything went well. It stinks like sweaty socks but the tase is so good! In the evening I park the bike by the mosuqe and just sit, relax and wait for the omens to tell me what should I do next (Again, the reference is to The Alchemist, such a great book. It felt like reading about myself, written by me.) It appears that I arrived just in time for the evening prayers. I meet the imam who opens the mosque and starts the callings. When he sounds the loudspeakers, in my imagination at this moment it is like the god is asking all the people of good will to come here and meet this stranger who is in need of food, shelter, shower and sleep. Miracles do happen and the first woman that comes starts to talk to me and invites me to her house where I meet her extended family, eat delicious cooked food, have a shower and then she gives me a bed to sleep. No magic paper. Pure decision from the heart.
Sulawesi DAY 9 (71km) Bonebone
Flat and rather boring road takes me to the fruit and veg market in Bonebone where I munch on a sweet pineapple. Its late afternoon and here I meet a man in his forties, speaking good enough English to talk to about what I do. He asks me where do I normally sleep and I honestly say that mostly I find nice people everywhere I go and they invite me to stay in their house. “So why don’t you come and stay in my home with my family? I invite you. You can have a shower and I will give you food to eat and bed to sleep. It would be my pleasure to host you.” Sometimes Im amazed at how quickly can people make a decision about something unknown, like a random stranger on a bicycle. I could be anyone and they don’t know who I am but still they trust me enough to take me home and introduce to their wife and children. It didn’t happen for the first time and it will surely not be the last time. Those who say that people are bad need to stop watching the news, get out of their house and start travelling. Nothing opens your eyes more than seeing the world using your own senses. Then you can create your own judgement based on what you experienced and suddenly you will be surprised to find out that there is nothing to worry about only the fear itself. In Yakub’s house we have an interesting chat about the animals. Since I came to Indonesia and visited both Bali and Lombok, now being in Sulawesi, its hard not to notice that there is something strange with the cats in this country. They all have their tails cut off! Who can be so cruel or what kind of a stupid tradition it is to chop off tails of cats? The answer is surprising. Its a special breed of cats with short tails. They are born this way! I’ve never heard of cats with short tails, ever. Another thing that gets my attention in Yakub’s house is toke, the lizzard. Its about 40cm long lizard that every night and morning makes loud “to-ke” sounds. They put toke on the roof to catch mosquitos, flies and other small lizards. The first time I heard toke I thought some kind of a monster lives on the roof or that the alien invasion had begun. It is so loud and so strange, you would never tell its a harmless lizard! Yakub pulls out his secret supplies of a palm wine and beers and shares it all with me whilst watching an English movie with Indonesian subtitles. That’s how he learns English and that’s how I can learn Indonesian. Win-win.
Sulawesi DAY 10 (62km) Tomini
In the morning Yakub offers to take me to have a look at how dragon fruit grows. We talked about it yesterday and I said that I have never seen it growing, therefore I though it must be imported from somewhere else. He wants to prove me wrong and gets his car out of the garage. Off we go to the farm to find out. I don’t know what is more shocking to me, the fact that cats with short tails exist or that dragon fruit is actually a cactus? Yes, it grows on a cactus! Similar to the cactus and its fruit like for example in many places in Morocco, but different. Fair enough, its time to hit the road again. This long and flat road with the scorching sun shining so strong that I feel like on a frying pan. Rainy season, they said. For lunch I stop in a warung (local restaurant) for some rice and chicken. Curious man in his early thirties approaches me and asks whether the bike is mine. Its obvious its mine because the warung is empty and I sit next to my bike but thats how many conversations usually start. Awkward questions and answers. When we get over the introduction bit, he invites me to stay in his village, 15km off the main road. He is from Bali but currently lives here. I would love to go but there and back, it makes 30km extra and thats a lot so I have to say no. He understands and goes to the counter to order the food for himself. He comes back, we chat for a bit and then he shakes my hand to say bye. No food is coming for him. Instead, he paid for my food when he went to the counter. Cheeky man, how nice of him! He really wanted to help me but he understood its too far of a detour for me to visit him, so at least he showed his generosity and kindness in this way. Much appreciated! Not too late in the afternoon it starts to rain and I find the refuge in a mosque. This one, at the far end of a village, is still under construction and apart from the walls and roof there is not much here. Certainly no callings from the loudspeakers and no house invitations tonight. It will do good to me to be by myself for a change so I can reflect on the first 500 kilometers of the journey and just be alone with my thoughts.
Sulawesi DAY 11 (60km) BTS
Morning yoga in the mosque helped to stretch my body and prepare for what’s going to be the most difficult day on the bike so far. Basically, the road is even more steep, longer and more challenging than was the climb to Tana Toraja. This road is full of twists and turns with no flat parts and endless variations of false tops, when it looks like you are finally going to go down but round the corner there is another surprise in the form of an even steeper road with no end. The matter of fact is that this place is mountanious paradise where butterflies are as big as small birds and it is so quiet that I can hear how birds flap their wings. After liters of sweat, swear words in all the languages I know on my tongue, so much pain in my legs that when I try to walk I need to hold onto something, the only thing I want after reaching the top is to throw this stupid bicycle off the cliff, eat and sleep. I dont’t have energy for throwing anything so I go to the first warung I see and I don’t care if they will like it or not, Im going to stay there till the morning. So fucking tired. The building is reasonably big, possibly with a good opportunity to offer me some small space I can occupy for the night. As I get closer, I see two girls sat outside the restaurant, calling at me and telling me to get inside in Indonesian. Their gestures and the sound of the language are so obvious that everyone would understand. Absolutely knackered, I make it somehow up the stairs and crash on a chair, trying to catch my breath. I ask for whatever they have plus a cup of a hot tea. Its much colder here in these mountains than anywhere before and my hands are freezing. Im slowly sipping the tea, holding the cup with both hands, and its only now that I relax and start to notice details around me. Apart from 1 man, there are 8 girls here and all of them smoke. There are pictures from Mecca and Koran on the wall. Its very unusual to see girls smoking in Sulawesi, not to mention muslim girls. My brain still works slowly and it takes me longer than usual to process things but when one of the girls brings me the food, she tells me I can sleep here without problems and shows me this cheeky smile. Im really happy they quickly understood Im not in a state to move anywhere and they see Im cycling from Makassar to Manado, so they offered me to stay even without me asking. How nice of them! Half way through dinner Im starting to gain my senses and realise that the girls don’t actually wear much clothes for how cold it is here but I don’t make any connections. All I can see is food, shower and bed. When I want to pay for the food, the girl tells me some ridiculous price that is just too much for what I had. She says that everything is included and gives me a brand new tube of toothpaste and a packed toothbrush. Im totally confused now and tell her that I have my own toothpaste and toothbrush! I just want to pay for the food. What a funny misunderstanding, I think to myself. She understands now and gives me the usual price. I pay and off I go to have a shower and change my stinky clothes so I can collapse on the bed.
When I come back to the restaurant, I see all 8 girls sat on the bed (there is this huge long bed with curtains where probably all of them sleep) and waiting for me. One girl asks me to choose with which one of then I want to have sex with. For money, adds the other one and makes this international gesture when you rub your thumb with fingers. Well, this is awkward! How many people come to a brothel just to eat and sleep? Im probably the only one in the world! I try to explain that I have money only for food and that I travel on a bicycle and sleep where the night comes and Im not looking for sex. I wouldn’t even dare after seeing several billboards on the way making people aware of HIV and explaining how to prevent it. Its probably there for a reason. There is a wave of disappointment among the girls because whatever I said, they picked only “no money” bit and the rest was not important. But they are not angry, not at all. Few moments later, I feel like their view on me changed from the one as a customer to the one when Im a guest in the house (or brothel). Girls invite me for a beer and we have a good laugh in that little I and they know in Indonesian and English. Later, I meet with their mum, which is probably the worst social and moral low I have ever encountered. Yes, their mum, a single person! She runs a family prostitution business and all her 12 (including the boys) children are involved. They openly talk with their mum about who fucked whom and for how much. This is all happening in their very own house, when they bring customers in by waving at cars and trucks (or bicycles) on the road, or sometimes they go out with the drivers to make them company. Im totally shattered and trying to fall asleep in the corner of this huge long bed behind the curtain whilst the customers come and go until early morning. When the whole place finally falls asleep, I open my eyes and see 8 prostitutes sleeping next to me. Time to go. Good job I didn’t give them my magic letter asking to show me their culture and be a part of their daily routine! Just imagine, haha. So yeah, this is how I couchsurfed in a brothel on top of the mountain in the island of Sulawesi!
Sulawesi DAY 12 (33km) Pendolo
Having worked hard throughout the night, the girls are still asleep when I leave the house. I want to get something for breakfast so I stop in a warung not too far down the road. I walk in and see 2 girls wearing tiny shorts and low cut tops. They have the same huge long bed at the back and I nearly burst out laughing. Deja vu? I have rice and chicken with a cup of tea before I say bye and hit the road again. Down the hill, all the way to the Lake Poso where I take a day off to relax, wash my clothes and swim. In the evening I ride the bike to the nearby village to practise offline couchsurfing with the magic letter. I approach the guys who are building a house and they call their friend who can speak English to come and meet me. Im introduced to Asri, a proud christian who learned English whilst working on a cruise ship in Europe. After confirming Im one of them, he starts to call me brother and I get a house invitation to stay with his family, who are also devoted christians. Asri shows me his ID card where it clearly says he is a christian but I just smile and nod my head. Does it matter? His family express a great concern about my travels and tell me to always stay by the church in the evening and speak to the people there because they are also christians. They make it sound like there is World War III out there and the only way how I can survive and save my life is to go from church to church! No wonder there are religious conflicts in the world when people are so narrow minded and proud to be something that just happened naturally and with zero effort. They were born christians, not that they could choose or they had to accomplish something in order to be proudly showing it in their IDs. This goes for all religions and extends to nationalities as well. Saying Im proud to be for example French is equally stupid. Okay, religion aside, Asri and his family are really nice people who did their best to accommodate me and help me out when I had nowhere to stay and Im thankful for their hospitality and trust in strangers.
Sulawesi DAY 13 (79km) Tentena
Asri asks for my phone number and tells me to text him in the evening the name of the village Im staying at so he can tell me whether it is safe for me to be there or not. Im told that the closer I get to Poso, the more tensions there are between muslims and christians. Several years ago, the conflict escalated and many people died as a result of the religious violence. This is what happens when too many proud people live together in one place. For lunch I stop in a nice house turned into a family restaurant where I have some delicious rice and chicken. Like every day. When Im nearly finished, 2 girls walk in. They introduce themselves as Jehova Witnesses. Bloody hell, they are everywhere! And they have this new JW application for the iPad they want to show me which is also in English so even if they don’t speak a word, they can still preach! I pay for lunch and go. In the evening I arrive in a village a few kilometers after the town of Tentena and I decide to carry on with my religious experiments. Four days ago, I leaned my bike against the mosque, I sat on the stairs and waited what’s going to happen. It didn’t take long and one nice woman picked me up and invited to stay with her family. Now Im leaning my bike against the church and I sit on the grass right next to the main entrance, waiting what’s going to happen. First, I catch the attention of the village kids and then almost an hour later a nice woman comes to pick me up and takes me home to stay with her family. Two different religions, same results. Only at the church it took longer because in the mosque people pray 5 times a day so the chances of meeting people were higher. In the house I meet genuine christians who don’t need to talk about their religion, make any comparisons or judgements. They practise with love and its obvious to everyone in the actions they do. Like the muslim family 4 days ago. Actions speak louder than words. Its needless to say that this night I had a shower, enough food to eat and the bed to sleep. On top of that I had a wonderful time socialising with the family and playing games with the kids.
Sulawesi DAY 14 (82km) Taawi
In the morning I agree to go to the church with the family and then after breakfast I have to say bye. They tell me to come back anytime I like and stay for as long as I need. How sweet, considering the circumstances of how we met and that just 12 hours ago we didn’t even know about each other. Im knocking down kilometres one by one in a record breaking pace because I heard from so many people that the road to Poso is not safe and there are some terrorist groups operating in the area and hiding in the jungle. Its hard to know what they exactly mean as my Indonesian is very limited and their English even more. Anyway, I don’t want to take chances so I race down the mountain and after 55km I arrive to Poso safe and sound before 11am. Celebration with one big durian is becoming a tradition now. Before the sun sets down, I use the magic paper in a tiny fishermen village and end up staying in one of those wooden houses on stilts built on the sea. When there is a high tide, the water comes under the house and you can even do your number two directly into the sea and feed the fish at the same time. Efficient but a bit gross if you want to go swimming or jump in the waves. We have a fantastic evening with the family and there is this connection between us that allows us to socialise even without speaking the same language. Suddenly, there are some people from the local authority knocking on the door and demanding to see my passport. They try hard to question me on what I do but without the common language they can only keep on trying. They frequently repeat something about terrorists, like so many other people before them. But these guys are officials and they look concerned but eventually they decide to say good night and go.
Shattered, finally I can go to bed and dream about reaching Manado. Not for too long though. Someone shakes my shoulder and I wake up. I’ve been asleep for only nearly an hour. I look around me, rub my eyes, but I struggle to recognise the people in the house. I can see the father of the family stood at the back, with 3 other guys dressed in black in front of him. He looks concerned. “Mister, get up, please. Im the chief police officer from Poso and this is my team. We need to talk to you.” Ehm, what’s going on? I have already showed my passport to your friends from the local authority and they said good night. I was sleeping! “We are sorry mister but we also need to see your passport and take photos of you and the document. Are you a muslim?” No, Im not. Wondering what this question has to do with anything at all. I notice that Im being video recorded as I speak by one of the officers. “Mister, have you heard of ISIS (Islamic State of Iraq and Syria)? The local terrorist organisation in Poso is linked with ISIS and they fight to create the Islamic Republic of Indonesia and impose the Sharia law. There is a huge military operation taking place these days by the government of Indonesia to fight these terrorists who are hiding in the jungle around Poso. It is absolutely essential that you stay in the house until the morning since the terrorists move around in the night time. In the morning, stick only to the main road and move fast towards Parigi where you will be safe. You are under the house arrest now. Good night mister.” When I said 3 days ago that my host Asri sounded like there is a World War III out there, he was not too far from the truth. Actually, war in the name of god is much worse…
Sulawesi DAY 15 (85km) Suli
Im fucking off from here before the ISIS finds me. Kidnapping a foreigner would be like winning the lottery. Im sorry the family had to go through this with me, having police pulling over their car in the FBI style and banging on the door in the night to interrogate me. But they seem to understand that it has all been done for my safety and they are happy they could help. They helped me a lot and I wish I could give back what they gave me. At this stage, I can speak a small bit of Indonesian so Im able to express myself how thankful I am. Last photo with the family and Im on the bike before 7am. Forty kilometres later, I lay down in the grass to stretch my back when a random man on the scooter tells me that its not safe to be here because the terrorists are in the mountains and that he is a muslim but still wouldn’t just lay around here himself so he asks me to rather carry on and stop only in villages and towns. Eighty-five kilometres later it starts to rain and I hide under the roof of a private house. It turns out to be the home of a police officer of the whole district, originally from Bali, and Im invited for a cup of tea and biscuits. Its pretty amazing how much Indonesian I have picked up in just 15 days and I find myself to be able to simply talk about who I am, what I do and what I want plus some other random words. I choose not to use the magic paper tonight and see how far I can go with my limited knowledge of the language. However, some things are really beyond me so I decide to give the policeman the phone number for Ikhsan, my friend from Makassar with whom I stayed for 5 days. He can answer the more complex questions. Basically, he said what is on the magic paper but also he worked as a link and interpreter in the communication between me and the policeman. The outcome is that the policeman can’t host me in his house because he is working the night shift but he wants to take me somewhere else where I can stay and that I don’t need to worry about anything.
He hangs up the phone and asks me to follow him. I start to worry a bit because its so rare the police actually really helps people in need that it is almost unheard of. Usually they only make problems and fill in papers so they can show they had done something. We go maybe 2km and then stop in front of the hotel. Policeman asks me to show my passport to the receptionist who then gives me the keys from my room. Policeman pays for my room just smiles and taps me on the shoulder when he sees my surprised face. What a surprise! Its one of those moments when you stand like a stupid, stare at people and don’t know what to say or what to do. Policeman makes it easier for me and starts taking my stuff into the room, still smiling, and then he shakes my hand and wishes me good luck with my extraordinary journey of a brave man (it took us 5 minutes to work out what he means but in the end we got there and for 99% its this)! Life is full of twists and turns but mostly full of surprises and everything is a surprise when you have no plans and don’t expect anything! This was something I surely didn’t expect and that’s why Im genuinely happy about how this day turned out in the end. From running for my life from the ISIS in the morning, to a hotel room in the terrorist-free district with wireless internet and the king sized bed in the evening. I feel like by doing something big and inspiring, like cycling for 2000km, other people are happy to support me and be part of my journey. When I show them my bike, map, pictures of places and people, when I speak to them in their own language or use the magic letter, they can clearly see what I do and they want to be part of my dream. Its the little things that count. Like Paolo Coelho said: When you really want something, the whole universe conspires to help you achieve it. Thanks, universe!
Sulawesi DAY 16 (92km) Tomoli
Im being lazy in the hotel room. With the free wi-fi and a huge bed its hard to leave but the road is calling. In Parigi I eat in the warung owned by a woman from Gorontalo. She tells me Im about half way to Manado now, with 900km behind me and another 900km ahead. I don’t think too much about it. Sixteen days ago it was 1800km, so Im definitely making some progress and step by step, day by day, Im getting closer to my final destination. When I go to the toilet I pass through the kitchen where the woman keeps 6 beautifully coloured parrots. Not too far from the pots and pans, chained by their legs against the small bamboo sticks, I wonder if they are going to be cooked and eaten one day. After lunch I find a remote beach with no people and no houses on both sides and go snorkelling. The visibility is very good and only several meters from the shore the reef starts. Corals are mostly bleached and dead but still they provide home for the beautiful neon blue fish and I even see the banner fish and a few different species of starfish and sea urchins. Back on the beach I stuff myself with mangoes and have a snooze. In the evening I stop in a village to watch the football match and stretch my legs a bit. My bum is numb too. People recommend me to get off the road after 500m and watch the birds. At least that’s what I understood. I follow the small road to the beach where I find a nice shelter with the roof, ideal to stay at for a night, but I can’t see any birds. Never mind. I start to unpack when some guys from the nearby house call me and tell me to take all my stuff into their house. I didn’t even talk to them and they had already invited me to stay with them! They cook octopus for dinner and give me the bed from where I can see the full moon rising over the sea. There is so much love and care in this world. But I still can’t see any birds, though!
Sulawesi DAY 17 (0km) Tomoli
Its 4pm when it finally stops raining. In the meantime I was just doing nothing in my own bed and it felt great to have some time off from the bike. The family is so nice that they offer me to stay with them for one more night, food inclusive plus the intense course of Bahasa Indonesia. Its too late to start cycling today and its also too hard to resist the offer and say no to the fresh fish and octopus for dinner. So I say no to cycling and yes to the family. The pace Im picking up the language with recently is so fast like I’ve never experienced before with the unknown language and now Im able to talk simply about several different topics, including travelling, food, house and the world around me. Its pretty amazing considering the fact that 17 days ago I couldn’t say a word. Learning a language is I think one of the biggest benefits of travelling alone and by using offline couchsurfing I get to meet people who don’t speak English and since there is no one else with me, Im forced to learn and speak the local language. Of course its very likely I will forget the language soon after I leave Indonesia but this is just an experiment that can be applied to any language anywhere in the world. Forget expensive language courses and books. Buy a bicycle, get someone to write the magic letter for you and start learning now! That sounds like a good catch phrase for a very alternative travelling language school. It works!
Sulawesi DAY 18 (107km) Tinombo
In the morning I come downstairs to have breakfast with the family just to find them flicking through the pages of an English dictionary with pictures and names, then pointing at my bike and calling out chilli rice, chilli rice! Totally perplexed, I look at them and try to work out the connection. Im thinking, probably if I eat lots of chilli, my bum will be on fire and I will fly like a rocket to Manado? Still confused, Im looking at them and then I look into the dictionary where is the picture of a man with the racing bike. It says “cycle race” but the way they pronounce it sounds like chilli rice! Oh well, I just smile and slowly start saying bye and thanking everyone. Genuine hospitality for 2 nights without the magic paper! It was my pleasure to be part of the family for a little while. Now I feel relaxed and fit, the road is mostly flat and scenic, so its not a big surprise today was my best performance so far. Actually, there are 3 milestones I achieved today. First, I crossed the equator and moved back to the northern hemisphere. Second, I did over 100km in a single day. Third, I did over 1000km since I started the trip 18 days ago in Makassar. People say that if you put an egg on the equator it will keep standing and won’t roll on the side. Also, the water apparently whirls clockwise and anti-clockwise depending on which side of the equator you are. I had no time to test it because it was raining and at that time I was more interested in finging a shelter. I arrive to Tinombo when its already dark and Im too tired to talk to someone, explain what I do and spend the evening by socialising with the family. At the same time, its too dark to be looking for an abandoned shelter or a quiet place with the roof and Im just too tired to bother. There are no durians around so I celebrate my 3 achievements by staying in a hotel for 70,000 IDR (4€).
Sulawesi DAY 19 (94km) Bolano
Morning tea and biscuits into my hotel room help me to get out of the bed and start the day early. After 35km I hide the bike in the jungle and go snorkelling in a beautiful bay with the coral reef full of life and colours. On top of what I saw the other day, here I spot parrot fish, sweetlips and surgeon fish. Its just me here and the man who lives in the wooden house not too far from where I hid my bicycle. He is in the water till the knees and hunting with a spear. From time to time a small rowing boat with fishermen pass in the distance. Stunning place. I would like to stay longer but the sky has turned grey and its starting to drizzle now. I have rode the bike through many farms, from small to big ones, and seen growing all kinds of crops, fruit and veg. It saddens me to see that even in the remote villages farmers use pesticides and spray chemicals on the plants and trees. There is no bio concept here and I wonder whether people are aware of the consequences of using chemicals for farming. Is the fruit and veg I eat as good and healthy as I would like to think it is? There is no way of knowing for sure and I can only hope. The road prepares me a surprise in the form of a big hill with plenty of steep climbs and when I conquer it, its time to start looking for somewhere to sleep. I decide not to use the magic paper and put my knowledge of Indonesian in test. First, I ask people who live opposite the mosque whether it is OK to sleep in the mosque because I travel by bike and don’t have much money. They smile and say its no problem at all. As I talk to them I see its too many of them, living in a tiny house with small kids and therefore I won’t try to ask anything about sleeping in the house. I go to the mosque and think about how to approach people differently. I lock the bike and go for a walk in the village. The first house with people I see, I ask them if I can have a shower because I stink. They smile and say its no problem at all. So I have a shower. When I finish, I want to say thanks and try to talk to them but there is no one to be seen. Fair enough. I go for a walk again, this time with my empty water bottle. When I see people in the house, I ask them if I can get some water. They are very friendly and seem to be interested in me so I tell them that I sleep in the mosque, to what they say why I don’t bring the bike and sleep in their house? Win!
Sulawesi DAY 20 (118km) Moutong
I have been texting with Beatrix and remembered how she wanted to visit Togean islands with her twin sister. She then asked me if I plan to go. At that time I said no because I was sure I wouldn’t have any spare time to go and I though cycling would keep me busy enough for nearly 6 weeks. As a matter of fact, even my Dutch friend Maayke from the summer school in England told me how beautiful Togean islands are and that I must go if Im already in Sulawesi. The truth is, so far Im biking faster than I though and if I manage to keep on with this pace, I will arrive to Manado one week ahead of the plan. That effectively means, I can take a week off from the bike and go to Togeans! Beatrix, being resourceful about everything, kindly texted me the ferry timetable and I quickly worked out that I need to be in Gorontalo in 3 days if I want to catch the boat and finish off in Manado on time. Fair enough, but that also means to do 320km in 3days! Thats bloody a lot but I can already see myself chilling on a ferry to Togeans. My mind is set and Im in the game! In the morning I get breakfast from the family I stayed with, later I get lots of mangoes from the farmers because they like what I do and two supportive men in their early forties pay for my lunch in the restaurant. In the evening, 118km later, I ask people who live next to the mosque if I can sleep there and they say its no problem. Then I have a shower in their house and then after a little while and my best attempt to converse in Indonesian I get invited into their home, eat dinner with the family and then sleep in my own room. Enough omens to tell me that I chose the right way!
Sulawesi DAY 21 (98km) Tilamutu
Not much is happening. I ride my bike and raise my hand up every time when I hear someone calling hello mister, which is like every 30 seconds. Its amazing how you can make a day for someone just by saying hello. Some people even follow me for a while just to look at me and then they turn around and go back. Other people take snaps with the phone as they are overtaking and sometimes even pull over and wait for me to come. Few special individuals want to have a better look and drive so close that they are blocking the road for me so I can’t avoid the numerous holes and need to jump on the breaks. The ones Im not so happy about are the ones who demand attention and ask me what’s my name exactly at the moment when they can clearly see Im climbing the steep hill, my bike is in the lowest gear and Im running out of breath, totally concentrated on the pedalling and road. Well, by now I know that bicycles in Sulawesi are only for children and everyone older than 10 is riding a motorbike so they probably don’t understand the effort I have to put in and how I feel after 21 days and 1400km on the road. For them its fun to see a white man riding a bicycle and hardly anyone understands why I do it if I can easily go by bus or if I want, there are always motorbikes to rent or buy. But who goes on a bicycle? Children and me. I get lots of laughing and giggles, weird looks and demonstrations of power by speeding when people overtake me. But I get much more dropped jaws, speechless expressions, thumb ups, smiles, waves and genuine reactions that give me so much positive encouragement and keep me going in the hard times. There are motorbike taxis, motorbike ice-cream vendors, motorbike restaurants (they have the rear part modified to fit in the kitchen equipment and store the food), motorbike shops (again, modified rear part to store fruit, veg, fish, chicken, you name it) and then there is a white man on the bicycle going 2000km across the island. I think the reactions I get from people are completely justified!
Sulawesi DAY 22 (104km) Gorontalo
When travelling across Sulawesi, to me it appears like people converted from their indigenous beliefs to islam or christianity just yesterday. There are no historical buildings or shrines and many mosques are just shacks with metal roof that resemble more of a shanty town than a sacred place of worship. I can’t speak about the major cities though as I have always tried to avoid them because of too many cars and pollution, but since I left Makassar Im pretty sure I haven’t seen any religious institution with much of a history. Its 3pm when I finally arrive to Gorontalo. My bum is completely numb, my back needs good stretching and my armpits call for a shower. All I want is bed and do nothing for the rest of the day. I find a very nice home stay with a friendly family and I hope they will let me leave the bike with them until I get back from Togean islands. This will need discussing tomorrow, now Im off to bed!
Togean Islands DAY 23-31
I leave my bike, roll-mat and sleeping bag with the family. They are super helpful and even drive me to the harbour where I buy a ticket to Wakai, the biggest village in Togeans, for 63000 IDR (4€) economy class. Business class is air conditioned and like it is usual in the countries of SE Asia, it is set to nearly freezing temperatures so when I walk from business to economy class, my glasses steam up. Another distinction is that as a business passenger you have a karaoke singer in your cabin to entertain you throughout the night so its probably not the best idea to stay there if you want to sleep. The ferry takes 12 hours to cross and right upon arrival in Wakai there are people from the nearby islands waiting with their boats ready to take anyone who is interested in their offer. There’s not much to do in Wakai and you can only buy some basic stuff on the market or in nearly empty shops with limited items in stock for much higher prices than anywhere on the mainland so it might be a good idea to stock on some snacks and beer before getting on the ferry. The thing with many islands in Togeans is that they are so remote and so small that there are no shops and no choice apart from staying in home stays or small guesthouses that offer accommodation including 3 meals a day with water, tea and coffee all day. No credit cards, no internet, no phone signal and electricity running only from 6pm till midnight. It is wise to bring enough cash from the main land and be prepared to live off the grid.
First, I want to visit Kadidiri island. Its as easy as asking people around and one minute later I meet with someone who can take me there for free if I stay in one of the 3 resorts on the island. There are two dive resorts and one home stay called Pondok Lestari where you can live with the fisherman and his family. Clear choice for me, I go for the cheapest one (125000/8€ per night all inclusive) and live in a beach hut for 4 nights. Since there is nothing in the hut besides the bed, there is no reason to stay in during the day and as a consequence Pondok Lestari is a great place to socialise and meet other travellers because everyone hangs out and eats together in the common area. That’s where we make plans and then do stuff as a group. One day we go swimming in the jellyfish lake which is a lake inside a small island where jellyfish have been trapped since the last ice age and without having any natural enemy, in time they lost the ability to sting so now they are completely harmless. Other day we go for a full day snorkelling trip to Una Una, which is the island with an active volcano and wonderful variety of corals and fish, or we rent kayaks and paddle to the tiny islands not too far from Kadidiri. I intended to stay 5 nights on Togeans in total but I feel like I can’t leave without experiencing the life on at least one more island so me and 3 other people we charter a boat and go to Malenge island.
There are many more opportunities to be active on Malenge than Kadidiri due to the numerous walking paths through the jungle that make it easier to spot monkeys, birds or coconut crabs. We stay in Losmen Lestari, a rather expensive resort (175000/11€ per night all inclusive) where I have my own en-suit beach hut with a hammock. There is a wooden canoe with paddles available for anyone to use which proves to be an excellent means of transport for visiting nearby villages and watching the sun rise and set. Losmen Lestari is facing probably the most beautiful village on Togean Islands where wooden houses are built on stilts on offshore reefs and are connected with Malenge island by a very long wooden bridge. This is where Bajo fishermen live, one of the last ones of so called sea gypsies. From the resort its maybe 30 minutes by boat to the top snorkelling destination called Reef number 5 where corals are so diverse and so dense that it feels like swimming through a thick jungle. On the last day we have a bonfire on the beach and the Indonesian family plays guitar and sings beautiful melodic songs. By now the word got around and everyone knows about my cycling trip and I had every day someone asking about it and telling me how cool is what I do and wishing me well. One Dutch couple even gave me some hi-viz wristbands with LED lights for the journey! People have been really supportive and curious about the way I travel so in exchange I gave them some tips on how to stay with local people and told them about the magic letter and offline couchsurfing. They couldn’t wait to try it in practise!
The Indonesian police has stopped the search for me as I allegedly went missing 10 days ago. This was the first message followed by a phone call after I got a phone signal back on the mainland and reconnected with the world. My parents contacted the embassy in Jakarta as well as a number of my friends regarding my whereabouts and were asking for help in case they have heard anything from me. This is what happens when you don’t get in touch with your family for several days without explanation and your phone is off. They freak out! Don’t put your loved ones in such stressful situations like I did, however, the explanation is very simple though. There is no phone coverage on Togean islands and therefore there was no way for me to get in touch with anyone and at the same time I couldn’t be reached either. I know that everything is alright but how do I tell my parents? No internet, no phone. Something I didn’t anticipate. Whilst I was swinging in a hammock, reading books and snorkelling, the Indonesian police was conducting a search for my body. Imagine mine and theirs shock if they would have found me!
Sulawesi DAY 32 (83km) Atinggola
The ferry from Togeans arrives just before 7am and I go directly to penginapan to pick up my bike. I leave the family 2 big strange looking fruits that I got from the islands as a present. Till this day I have no idea what’s the name of this fruit but its about the size of a ball, with thorns, green in colour, white and super juicy inside. They seem to be happy with it and after a small chat I hop on the bike and off I go. Its great to ride the bike again! I missed it a lot. But when I push the pedals I need to use much more power than I can remember from before. Maybe my legs got lazy and weak. I check the tires and both are soft so I stop in the nearest garage and give them some air, for the first time since I bought the bike. Then I spray a bit of oil on the chain and suddenly the bike turns into a racing beast and my legs push the pedals with ease. There is lots of traffic police today and I find it funny when whole groups of motorbikes and cars pull over as soon as they can see the police and wait until they leave to avoid paying a fine or bribe for not wearing a helmet or not having a driving license. Today also I see something that I haven’t seen before as Im continued to be surprised by the creative ways how to transport stuff. What about the fish hooked onto the wipers and live chickens tied by the legs hanging off the rear mirrors? Now I’ve seen it all I think! Every effort counts and being able to speak at least a bit of the language makes miracles. For lunch Im told that I don’t need to pay and in the evening Im invited to sleep in a primary school on the carpet in the office with some other members of staff. They cook a mouthwatering soup from coconuts and red palm sugar that tastes like melted chocolate. So good!
Sulawesi DAY 33 (82km) Pipi
English teacher makes me a cup of tea in the morning and I leave before the kids get in. Kids are always funny and I’ve had many chances to observe their behaviour when they see me on the bike. When Im coming, they usually stand still and stare at me with open mouths, too shy to say anything. Then I say hello but there is almost never any reaction from kids as they continue staring at me. Two seconds later, after I pass, I hear them laughing out loud. Four seconds later, their confidence grows rapidly and they begin shouting hello mister, I love you, what’s your name, fuck you and a few more variations their limited knowledge of English allows them to use. In the evening I try to get invited home in a completely new way. I experiment and ask people where I can find the office of kepala desa (mayor of the village). They point me to the place where I find out that the working hours for kepala desa are over for today but next door there is the office of forest police so I ask them where can I find kepala desa. The guy doesn’t hesitate a second and takes me directly to his house where I finally meet kepala desa. I explain who I am, what I do and that I have nowhere to sleep tonight. Kepala desa of this village is a really cool guy who almost immediately invites me to his house for a night, shows me where I can have a shower and meanwhile his wife cooks fish and rice for me. He gives me thumbs up for what I do and takes me to my own room with a big bed and lots of pillows where I can rest. Im living a dream. Selamat tidur!
Sulawesi DAY 34 (85km) Inobonto
During the morning’s cup of tea I convey shocking news to kepala desa: There is no Yugoslavia and no Soviet Union anymore. But on the other hand, not so many people in Europe know where on the map is Indonesia, huge country with the population of over 220 million. He is also really interested in the different balance of day light we get in Europe in winter and summer, something people don’t experience at the equator. He even seems to be sorry for the people in Slovakia who get barely 8 hours of day light in the winter, something he can’t imagine! Last photos and off I go to what ends up to be one of the most rainy day on the bike. I follow the signs to Manado and the road takes me past by the jungle where black macaques live but I don’t get to see any. Its Sunday today so it means there are lots of money collections for mosques and churches going on in the villages. They basically put some barriers on the road so the cars have to slow down and then pass through a small crowd of people holding baskets awaiting donations. In some more remote places people just put a chair with the donation box in the middle of the road and leave it there unattended. Its like if the road didn’t have enough pot holes to avoid already! In the evening I lean my bike against the church and go to ask people next door if its ok to sleep in there. They almost instantly invite me in, feed me and show me my room. We have a great evening with the family and suddenly I realise how much progress I have made with my Indonesian. It was not so long time ago when I heavily relied on simple English words when talking to people but now I can put the words together and say simple sentences in Indonesian. And people are happy to teach me wherever I go! Probably the most complimentary question I got was when the family asked me if I studied Indonesian at a university. This truly made me smile. Later in the evening we have a pastor from the church next door and kepala desa from this village coming for a visit. Pastor wants to take me to his home but I say that I like the family and want to stay here. There is some discussion going on between them two and the family and to me it sounds like they instruct my guests how to look after me so I have only positive things to say about the people from this village. Eventually they leave and Im off to bed.
Sulawesi DAY 35 (81km) Amurang
I didn’t get much sleep in the night because I was running to the toilet evey hour and had a tummy ache. No idea what from though. With pain, I make it to my destination for today where I get a hotel room for (100,000/7,50€) because I need to rest and have a break from people. It gives me some time to think about the people in fact and the way of life people choose. Here, people often feel sorry for me when I tell them I travel alone and my family is in Europe. They always ask me why? They think something happened between me and my family and as a result we got separated and I lost the touch. They ask why is my family not here with me? Or why I don’t go back to my family? Or my favourite one is whether my parents gave me a permission to go? These are the questions I always struggle to answer because the concept of travelling for pleasure is something what village people normally don’t understand. But instead, they have something I can only be jealous of: strong family ties and sense of belonging to a community. Everyone knows everyone and if someone needs something or wants to share anything, there are always people around with enough time to listen and help. Exactly like it has been in this world for centuries up until recently. The western trend of sending children to cities, other provinces or even other countries for education or working abroad and away from the family hasn’t emerged in many of the villages yet, not to think of travelling for pleasure. This creates a big dilemma for me and makes me think a lot about what I do. Should people stay with the family and limit their choices to local opportunities only or explore the world at the cost of losing the connection and missing out on family events and occasions that will never repeat again? Is it the question of being traditional or modern? Being family orientated or selfish? Why I can find the time to socialise with so many random people when I travel but I don’t have time for my own family? Indonesia is always going to be there but my parents won’t and I should probably find a better balance between travelling and my home.
Sulawesi DAY 36 (77km) Manado
I leave the hotel room and get on the bike early to do the final leg of my journey. What it will be like when I finally arrive at the end of the road? It’s surprisingly normal and it doesn’t feel any special. Its only the day after when it fully kicks in when I realise there is nowhere to go and Im staying here because its all over. That is a very new feeling because my body has adjusted to the routine and the daily cycling so much that I feel like Im missing on something and I get restless just sitting around the house. Ania, my wonderful CS host and her mates, keep me occupied for most of the day and there are many alternative activities (meaning anything to do with not cycling) to do and in the end I thoroughly enjoy the change in my routine. We also walk to places and sometimes it seems like my legs have forgotten how to do it properly! Having a house to return to, bed to sleep in and mates to talk to for longer than several hours is a novelty to me and something that I exactly need at this time. I sell my bike to Ania for a symbolic price of 200,000 rupiah to cover the departure tax I need to pay at the airport. Ania used to volunteer for an NGO in Poland where she was taking people for long biking trips and I know my bike will be safe in her hands. I wish Ania lots of happy kilometers!
After 2000km and 27 days on the bike, 19 different house invitations, 2 nights in a homestay, 2 in a hotel room, 2 in a mosque and 1 night in a restaurant, 0 punctures and injuries, today I arrived at the end of Trans-Sulawesi Highway. This journey was an experiment for 2 different reasons:
First, can I go through the mountains and do a long distance trip with a cheap bike? I bought a used city-ladies bicycle with a rusty frame and only 6 gears for 50€. The rear break didn’t work, the gears were far from accurate and the front wheel was all wobbly and shaky at higher speeds. I had no proper cycling gear and was biking in swim shorts, flip flops or even barefoot when it rained.
Second, can I learn to speak the Indonesian language? I had a letter with me in Indonesian, explaining who I am, what Im doing and that I would be very happy if I could stay in people’s houses for a night to experience the culture. In the beginning I was using the magic letter every evening but later I stopped using it and tried to use the bits and bobs of the language that I picked up. Nothing felt better than to be invited to someone’s home after we had a conversation all in Indonesian.
I felt that by doing something big and inspiring, like cycling for 2000km on a simple bike with flip flops, other people were very happy to support me in any way they could and therefore be part of my journey and experience. When I showed them my bike, map, pictures of places and people, when I spoke to them in their own language, they could clearly see what I did and they wanted to be part of my dream. Its the little things that count. Like Paolo Coelho said: “When you really want something, the whole universe conspires to help you achieve it.”
Thanks, universe! My 2 months in Indonesia have been amazing, starting with travelling to Bali and Lombok with my parents, followed by cycling across Sulawesi and then later I even found enough time to go for a short break to the tropical paradise of Togean islands. But now its time to go. I have always wondered what kangaroos look like in their native environment…
PS: I don’t want to hear the word “mister” EVER again!!! 🙂
For more pictures from Sulawesi please visit the photo gallery (Facebook)
Amazing Peter, love the pictures as well 🙂
Very nice journey. I stayed in kadidiri last 4 years ago. Like sulawesi so much. Thanks for writing about it. Karina@jakarta
Congrats Peter, with all of ur simple gear, u’d made a fantastic cycling.
I only done cycling abt 1800 km from Palu to Manado a few weeks before u started it. And it was really unforgettable journey. Anyway…..thank you for ur writing abour ur experiences in Sulawesi.
Hey mate, I’m doing the same trip in two weeks. Any chance you could give me some tips on your trip?
Fantastic, enjoy the road! Everything I could think of is included in the text. Do you have any other questions? Happy travels!
Congrats on your achievement! It’s not the distance, its the road itself and what you encounter on the way. Seems like your journey was totally worth it, doesn’t matter you didn’t do it from A to B like everyone else. Thanks for commenting and best wishes with your next adventure 🙂
Peter, amazing journey ! I like it. What will be your next destination? 🙂 Sona@kosice
Hey, thank you! I just got back from Iceland so probably staying at home for several days at least before I head out again 🙂
Hallo Peter, thank you very much for sharing your experience with us!
I´ll try this myself one day, but for now I am planning to visit Sulawesi for 30 days in September together with a friend.
First we didn´t thought of going by bike but your journey was so inspiring that we now think of incorporating this in our trip.
I hope you don´t mind if i ask a few questions 🙂
So since we are two guys, do you think people would be as welcoming to us as they were to you? I imagine its much easier if you are alone. You think this style of travelling would still work for us?
Basically we want to travel the place, stay where ever we like for some time(days), exploring the place and culture and go snorkling and fishing if possible (we´ll bring our rods).
Also, do you think it´s easy to buy some bikes outside of manado or makasar? My friend is approx. 1,90m so he worries if he can find one which he will be able to ride for such a long time 🙂
So we only have 30 days and since we want to stay at the places for longer time we are wondering what would be the best route. We cannot ride 80km/day in average like you did sooooo, what does your gut say? Is this bulls*** or do you have a tip for a good route? Which part of the route did you enjoy most?
Moritz
you are inspiring!!!
Hi Peter,
looking at the beginning of the blog I can see that you started your journey on the 19th of January and therefore you have been in Sulawesi roughly from Mid January to Mid February ?
Since it’s the rainy season would you do it at that time of the year again or would you do it during the dry season which seems to be also hotter ?
regards, Roland
Hey Peter! Amazing, amazing story and I am super inspired. I have been thinking about doing this (going across either Sulawesi or Sumatra).
I have 3 questions that I want to ask:
1) Do you have any idea if I could do this without a bike? How was the transportation system there to go from Makassar to Manado?
2) How safe is it to travel there? The most valuable item that I am going to bring is my $400 camera. What are the tips for a first timer backpacker?
3) How do you handle bad weather on the road?
Thanks Peter!
Hello, i am Ade. Currently domiciled in Bandung, a plateau in the west of Java Island, Indonesia. I just completed a trip across Sulawesi Island from South to North on January 8, 2021. My route has a distance of about 2,000 km passing Makassar – Toraja – Poso – Parigi – Gorontalo and Manado. I traveled this long distance for 23 days.
I totally agree with this article which states that the climbs in Sulawesi are really torturous. Up and down the hill as if it was endless. And yes, the local people were very enthusiastic when they saw foreigners riding bicycles with lots of goods through their villages. Even I, who are native to Indonesia, are also often called “hello mister ..” hahaaa. Perhaps touring cyclists have a close image with “foreigners” or tourists from Europe. But overall, I really enjoyed this solo journey, having found so many goodnesses and lessons that I had never even imagined before.
Keep exploring, guys!