Image by Julia Lloyd Design. Ask us for Julia's contact details. (C) Julia Lloyd 2008.

Thursday, December 18, 2008

A conversation, reflecting on our trip

Please note we've uploaded two new blog entries today, so keep reading down!

H: What has surprised you?
Z: I'm surprised we haven't had any physical problems (recent events notwithstanding) as a result of all the cycling. We both expected knee pain and chronic nappy rash, but neither the distances nor the heat have ever felt like much of a problem. I'm also surprised how difficult we've both found it to modify our highly-strung responses to local behaviour; the impulse to impose our own values was powerful.

Z: What has surprised you?
H: I'm surprised how few westerners we've met and even seen, in all the countries. Apart from that, Sumatra surprised me – how awful it was compared with how I remembered it.

H: What was your favourite cycling day?
Z: Funnily enough our longest one (127kms, 8 hours of cycling), on the Ho Chi Minh Highway in Vietnam. We started very early and the morning light was gorgeous. We saw a church being built, covered in precarious-looking bamboo scaffolding. The scenery consisted of karst mountains, getting higher as we got close to the Lao border. There was next to no traffic. The dwellings became noticeably more basic, and it was impossible to find a cold drink as nobody had a fridge! There were even a couple of hilly stretches with no dwellings at all; most unusual in densely populated Vietnam. A very funny thing happened: you were gorging yourself on some peanut brittle stuff which you said was 'more-ish', but then I noticed loads of insects had got stuck in the solidified sugar syrup, presumably as the stuff was drying in the sun on the side of the road somewhere! It rained that afternoon which cooled things down before we tackled a huge mountain pass and descended into a stunning mountainous National Park stretching to the Lao Border. The first of many bits of jungle we've cycled through. I remember incredible insect noises, and there had been some dramatic landslides over the winding road. The final 20kms were a bit stressful as we had to cycle like the clappers to reach the town before it got dark. We almost got caught in amongst two bulls having a scrap on the road. We passed the 1000km mark that day. Finally we rolled into Phong Na, desperately hoping to find a guesthouse. As if by magic a guesthouse switched on its neon sign at the very moment we were approaching and two girls stood outside beckoning to us like sirens. The room was clean and we slept soundly after a couple of beers!

H: I agree. That was my favourite day too.

H: What was your favourite non-cycling day?
Z: Diving at the Similan Islands in Thailand and seeing leopard sharks.

H: We were off the beaten track about 90% of the time, which was fairly hard work. Describe one or two of the moments that made that effort worthwhile.
Z: Some of the incidents on the Ho Chi Minh Highway that we've already described on the blog are good examples, such as the time those teachers drove to the next town and came back with iced tea for us, bought with their tiny salaries. And the amazing evening with the young English teacher and 'the dove porridge' lady. Our journey up the Mekong in Cambodia was a visual feast, and there was that lady who brought us parcels of sticky rice as we sheltered from torrential rain there. Two thirteen year old girls stick in my mind too, one in Vietnam and one in Sumatra: both so self-assured and so genuinely grateful to practice their English with us. It's people like all of these that are the reason we chose southeast Asia for our trip.
H: I thought Vietnam and Cambodia were both more enjoyable when off the beaten track, whereas Indonesia was definitely more enjoyable in places where The White Man had been before.

Z: What was your favourite conventionally touristic thing that we did?
H: I can't choose one. The Great Wall of China was incredible. Near Ninh Binh in Vietnam we discovered a newly-opened place where we were rowed by a young woman (using her feet!) for two hours through a serious of lakes and incredible limestone caves. We were the only people there. Apart from that, in Sumatra I enjoyed our overnight jungle trek a great deal more than I expected. What about you?
Z: Yes, mine was the orangutan trek. And the warriors at Xi'an in China.

H: You love the sea best. Which was your favourite bit of sea?
Z: We swam from our diving boat to one of the uninhabited Similan Islands and walked along a picture-perfect white sand beach before swimming back to the boat through the turquoise water. It doesn't get much better than that.

Z: You love lakes and we've seen quite a few. Which was your favourite?
H: We took a boat across Tonle Sap Lake in Cambodia, from Siem Reap to Battambang. The photos you took show how visually striking that was, particularly the stilt houses whose residents have to adjust the level of the floor according to the season. We were there at the time of year when the Mekong river flows 'backwards' into the lake, so their floors were only about a metre below their ceilings - incredible. But my favourite lake of all was Danau Maninjau in Sumatra, because it's beautiful and tranquil and because it reminded me of being there with Katie 14 years ago!

Z: Say something about the bikes and our gear.
H: The bikes were an awesome investment, not least because Robin Thorn, Lisa and Andy were only ever an email away when we needed reassurance about how to maintain them. As for gear I'm very happy with the decisions we made about what to take, though in retrospect we could have managed without the tent. The two laundry bowls we bought in Hanoi were invaluable, weren't they, as was the kettle you bought in Haiphong. Let's do another blog entry specifically for prospective cycle-tourists, about our gear, our route and so on.
Z: OK, but Gabriel asked you 'what is your favourite part of your bike and/or carefully planned kit?'.
H: Hmm, good question. Maybe this laptop, which Gabe encouraged me to get. Every time I prepared a blog entry I felt really good. It was my way of consolidating the experience. It's nice to know people enjoyed reading it.

H: Which was your favourite accommodation?
Z: Anywhere that was clean was always a relief at the end of a long day! The most lovely place was La Noria in Siem Reap, where we had a little stilt house overlooking a garden and a pool. I reckon my mum and dad would love it there.
H: And the worst?
Z: There are many contenders, but the one that made me want to cry with disbelief was the filthy mosquito-infested truck-stop in Ipuh in Sumatra, after we'd cycled 111kms and I'd just been splatted by a cow pat run over by a truck.

H: Was that your lowest moment?
Z: Rather than a single moment there was a period of several days in Sumatra when I was at my wit's end. The people were awful; specifically I absolutely couldn't bear being the object of the sexist male gaze. At the end of most days the accommodation was also awful and laughably over-priced. It felt relentless and we had the prospect of maybe two whole months of it ahead of us. We couldn't even get a f*cking beer!

H: What was your highest moment then?
Z: Well I don't really do 'high', do I, but the moments when I felt most elated were quite random ones in the saddle, usually provoked by a combination of nice weather, nice landscapes, safe roads, smiling people and interesting stuff to photograph.

Z: What was your highest moment?
H: No question.. my highest moment was arriving in Thailand. I was quite literally punching the air. The tourist board slogan 'Amazing Thailand' is spot on. Goodness only knows what the other countries' tourist boards even do!

Z: What do you think was the funniest moment of the trip?
H: Things often seemed funnier in retrospect than at the time. We've been very good about keeping a crudely-written journal every day, and a couple of times I've sat crying laughing reading back over past entries.

H: What have you learned?
Z: A lot I think. I've gained a strong sense of my own mortality, mainly as a result of having seen so many road accidents along the way. It's also been amazing to see so many of life's basic processes laid-bare: family life, food production, even cremation. Stuff that's hidden from view in our own culture. It's been an education, a visual feast. It's a weird thing though, cruising through all these countries looking at people's shit-arse villages and feeling slightly superior and also slightly guilty. So are we going to do anything about it? No, we're going to go back to our nice comfortable lives, thank you very much. Does that make us awful and the village people the salt of the earth? Probably. Should we have done this whole thing 'for charity'? We've got some ideas on that front. We've spent hours talking about all this, and we haven't reached any conclusions. And, crass as it may sound, I fancy some touring in the developed world next, with the landscape rather than the way of life as the 'main attraction'. I fancy Argentina, with a big fat steak and a bottle of Malbec to look forward to at the end of the day!

The trip confirmed something I already knew about you, that you are a natural navigator. That's why I started calling you GPS Darvill Jnr. I also learned that – contrary to popular belief – you are surprisingly happy to go 'off-spreadsheet', as Allan put it.

Z: Have you learned anything about yourself or about me?
H: I've learned that I love the nomadic thing; the not knowing where each day will take us. I've learned something about you that I hadn't really noticed before: you are very funny.

Z: Anything you think other people will notice and be surprised about?
H: They'll notice that you are leaner and probably be surprised that despite our physical achievement I still have such a fat arse! They might also be surprised to see how many white hairs I've got, now that I'm letting them grow. Amazing, really, that so many people asked if you are my mother!
Z: Hmm, then there was the man who said I look like Elton John. I preferred the Balinese man who said 'Hannah is beautiful. Zoe is a tomboy'. Finally, recognition of my true identity!

H: Any regrets about the trip?
Z: Only that we didn't always manage to contain our bad tempers; we sometimes took out our irritation on local people who were only trying to be friendly.
H: You mean me, right?
Z: Well, I ended up doing it too. But right from the start you did seem to get irrationally angry sometimes. Occasionally it seemed like you weren't enjoying it at all.
H: I'm sorry about that. I can't deny I am incredibly bad-tempered at the best of times, and all the shouting really did my nut. But my dad says in the Buddhist way of thinking you shouldn't beat yourself up about things like this!
Z: What on earth will the two of us be like when we actually are grumpy old ladies!

Z: What about you, then? Any regrets?
H: I deeply regret having to fly from Beijing to Hanoi and from Jakarta to Bali. We wanted to travel overland. In a way I feel responsible for both of these cock ups. I also regret the time I spent not-learning-Indonesian instead of reading novels. Ironically once we got to Indonesia I thought 'sod you lot', gave away the 'Teach Yourself' book and started reading novels, and thoroughly enjoyed myself.

Z: You're an obsessional planner but you decided not to plan the trip much. Was that the right decision?
H: On the whole, yes. I enjoyed planning as we went, and sometimes not planning. Anyway, it would have been impossible to plan the whole thing. Even the internet does not provide all the information we would have needed.
Z: And was it the right decision not to carry guidebooks?
H: Again yes. We had a city guide for Beijing which was useful for contextual information. For Vietnam, Cambodia and Thailand we had only the 'graphic guide to southeast Asia' my brother had given us, which provided simple schematic maps and town plans and was completely invaluable. For Indonesia we had no guidebook at all, only the internet. Actually I found not having guidebooks very liberating.

Z: What about maps?
H: Ah. The road atlas we bought in Vietnam was excellent. For Cambodia, Thailand and Sumatra we had to make do with whole-country maps, which of course were insufficient. In Bali we had a more detailed one, which enabled us to navigate via minor roads and avoid the worst of the maniacs. Navigationally, getting out of cities was always the most difficult thing with or without maps; the compass was invaluable on those occasions.

H: Let's talk about our senses. Which music is most evocative of the trip for you?
Z: I think the compilations Tessa and Rich did for us. What about you?
H: A specific song by Joan Armatrading, which Julia put on her compilation, and 'Homophobia' by the Pet Shop Boys, which Adrian put on his. Plus (thinking of Sumatra especially!) the Zoe Lewis song 'Don't Touch Me', with Alison playing on it, and the whole album of oud music, which Diane gave us.
Z: Regarding other sounds, motorbike engines and beeping in Vietnam, mosques in Sumatra and gamelan music in Bali. Plus jungle noises everywhere: geckos, cicadas and frogs.

H: Which smell is most evocative for you?
Z: Nice evocative smells include the fresh cinnamon bark you found in Bogor Botanical Gardens, and the smell of the sea on the few occasions we cycled right next to it. My worst smell is that rancid smell you get in southeast Asian markets.. rotting fish or rubbish.
H: My worst smell is roadkill. In Thailand there were so many rotting dogs, and – unfortunately – lots of live ones too. My favourite evocative smells are rice paddies and the jasmine tea we bought in Georgetown to make with our little kettle.

H: My mum asked, have you picked up any good recipes for frog?
Z: Fry it. It really does taste like chicken.
H: My mum also wants to know which was our favourite meal of the trip?
Z: That would have to be one of the ones we had in Beijing. Dumplings with garlic sauce and fresh clams, maybe. Or the Szichuan hot pot that nearly blew our heads off but was somehow unforgettable! What about you?
H: I particularly enjoyed good meals we had after periods of culinary, er, compromise. For example, our 'Julia and Alison' meal at the Oriental in Bangkok after three weeks in Cambodia. And that excellent Indonesian meal at the posh mall in Jakarta, surrounded by well-to-do Indonesians minding their own business and not shouting 'hello buleh' at us.

Z: What about drinks?
H: In Vietnam and Cambodia we had fresh sugar cane juice every day and I still miss it. And Vietnamese coffee with condensed milk is to die for!
Z: What about juices? Favourite fruits?
H: Adrian, Gabe and Craig I think. They all emailed us regularly. Oh you mean fruit juices? Avocado is my favourite, with chocolate milk in. And banana. Yours is soursop, isn't it?
Z: Yes, and to eat I love salaks, mangosteens and custard apples. Mangos can also be amazing.

H: Gabriel asked us 'which western luxury do you miss most?'.
Z: That's easy. Red wine.
Z: He also asked 'what are you most looking forward to when you get back to London?'.
H: Friends! It's a good job the two of us get on well, because we've really been on our own for five months, haven't we.

Z: Your mum also asked which is my favourite photo that I've taken. That's really hard, but if I have to choose I'll choose the series I took in Cholong (Chinatown) in Saigon, because I really enjoyed taking those. My favourite portraits are probably of those kids in Cambodia.. the little cross-eyed girl and the rest of that group.
H: I like the pictures you took of rural scenes in Cambodia, because they helped me notice things more.

Z: Which aspect of southeast Asia would you like to import to England?
H: Cheap, delicious streetfood.
Z: And which aspect of England would you like to introduce to southeast Asia?
H: Where shall I start? Driving tests. Mirror-signal-maneuver. Not riding your motorbike the wrong way up the street. Not throwing all your rubbish on the floor. I'd like to introduce feminism and queuing to Indonesia.
Z: And not blowing your snot on the floor. Sexism and heterosexism are so much a part of the culture in so much of the world; we'll need to factor that reality into our next choice of destination I think.
H: No shit.

Z: Do you think we'll go back to any of the places we've visited on this trip?
H: Thailand, again and again. We both agree on that. Beijing and other bits of China too. I'd be interested to go to Vietnam in 10+ years time as it's changing fast. Cambodia and Indonesia, no, probably not in a hurry, though I'd recommend Angkor Wat to everyone that hasn't seen it.
Z: I liked Cambodia more than you did, I think. Maybe I'll go back there during one of my many long holidays.

H: Good for you. Finally, my mum asked what's the first thing you'll do when you get home?
Z: Reacquaint myself with the house, make a cup of tea, go up to the High Street and buy some food to cook, then pop over and see the boys and my heavily pregnant sister. What about you?
H: Eat the food you cook, and try on the jeans I couldn't fit into when we left. Maybe in the other order.

To Bali in two amusing stages

Thank you for the many kind messages we have received. In our blog entries we've generally avoided a 'we did this, then we did that' style, but it seems appropriate to update you on what happened next after our accident in Sumatra on 3rd December.

True to their word the Sumatran police did get us safely to Jakarta, but not by taking us all the way themselves: instead they drove us – siren on, purely for show – to a bus depot where they had chartered an entire coach to take us to the capital! The coach driver drove very carefully to the ferry and onwards through West Java to Jakarta while we (and our bikes) reclined amongst cushions and eiderdowns with coffee in plastic bags feeling the most relaxed we had in a while. As our boat was docking at Merak we were amused to see a group of young men jumping from the back of a departing ferry and swimming back to the quay – just for fun – and tried to imagine such larks being permitted on the Dover-Calais.

Jakarta exceeded our expectations. Six nights is a lot longer than most travellers spend in the city, but after our month in the Dark Ages we were quite happy to do the rounds of colonial museums and cafes, upmarket international restaurants and cinemas and tranquil botanical gardens using airconditioned taxis, buses and trains. On our first evening in the city Zoe popped out to buy water and returned wide-eyed having seen several bulehs (white people) and even a 'Mister Negro' (what the Indonesians call black people)!

We also paid two visits to a posh Chinese-run clinic where Hannah's dressings were twice replaced amidst much tutting at the quality of the original work! (Apparently the chest x-rays should have been taken from the side, not from the back.)

We decided after much discussion to fly straight from Jakarta to Bali. 'Gutted' doesn't begin to describe our disappointment at having to cut short our epic tour, but Java on a bike might have been suicide and the idea of public transport (especially with one of us unable to lift a bike) was no less stressful.

So we booked ourselves a cheap flight with Air Asia and got rid of some stuff in anticipation of having to pay for 30-40 kilos of excess baggage (again!).

At Jakarta Airport we had another quintessentially Indonesian experience. Air Asia's website doesn't specify any policy regarding the carriage of bicycles, so we simply deflated our tyres and wheeled the bikes to the check-in desk. Unfortunately the check-in clerk had other ideas and informed us that Indonesia has a 'special rule' that bikes have to be dismantled as they are a risk (to other people's luggage, apparently). We refused to dismantle the bikes and an impasse was reached, at which point Zoe was sorely tempted to jump straight on a plane to London. Then Hannah – rapidly turning into her mother – had a brainwave: 'we have to fly to Bali because we had an accident, you see; look at my dramatic-looking iodine-soaked bandages'. The damsel in distress routine provided the clerk with exactly the excuse he needed to forget all about the 'special rule' and set about preparing our bikes for their flight. We looked on with amusement as he leaped about, taping bits of cardboard awkwardly around random components he felt represented a risk. Then he insisted the bikes be 'wrapped'. After watching the wrapping service people try to balance the first bicycle on their suitcase-sized turntable Zoe suggested they do the job by hand. A large crowd gathered to watch the spectacle of two large bicycles with foot-long cardboard pedals being mummified in heavy-duty clingfilm. Next the clerk personally placed the bikes onto the luggage conveyor-belt, treating Zoe to an hilarious 'Eddy and Pats' moment as a bike got stuck and he had to run on the spot whilst shouting for someone to hit the emergency stop. And the best bit of all? We didn't pay a cent for our excess baggage!

Since arriving in Bali Hannah has had her stitches taken out and her wounds have healed up nicely. However she still has quite a lot of pain, which is worst in the early hours when she feels as though a bus has run over the lower half of her rib cage.

So far we reckon the Indonesian leg of our trip can be salvaged here in Bali. The friendly (Hindu) Balinese people are well used to tourists and do not feel the need to stare and shout like other Indonesians. The small island is beautiful and – if you stick to the small roads – is a pleasant place to cycle. We've seen some interesting new things already including gamelan rehearsals and a human corpse being cremated (with a blow-torch) on the village green. As in Thailand the main downside is the dogs: the vile, pointless creatures are everywhere and they do not like tourists on bicycles. We discarded our dog-whacking sticks in Sumatra but we've resurrected the squirty bottles of chilli water.

For anyone with a map we started in the big southern resort of Kuta-Legian (where the bombs were in 2002) and then cycled west to near Tanah Lot. Then we headed north past amazing rice terraces, made our way around the central mountain lakes to coffee-growing Munduk and onwards to Lovina on the north coast. From here we intend to cycle clockwise around the coast to the quiet eastern corner of the island before heading inland to the cultural centre of Ubud (for Christmas – how bizarre that seems) and finally to Candidasa on the southeast coast, our base for some diving. We won't make it to 6000kms but at least we'll add a few more clicks to the tally.

We'll be home on 1st January.

Monday, December 8, 2008

Have you sent something to our poste restante address in Malang, Java?

Just a quickie. Could you let us know by email if you've sent something to our poste restante address in Malang, Java? We've taken the decision to fly from Jakarta straight to Bali, which means we'll need to try to arrange for any mail to be forwarded. Sorry and thanks.

Thursday, December 4, 2008

You probably just need to fart

Yesterday our bikes were both hit from behind by a motorbike. We were on a busy and fast but straight and relatively wide main road, heading for the Java ferry. By wide we mean there is a lane in each direction wide enough for a car (but not a bus) to pass us without crossing the central line. As usual oncoming buses and cars were overtaking each other without regard for us, causing us to have to dive off the road quite frequently. Zoe felt uneasy about the road, but Hannah felt ok because the road was straight, saying 'you can see it, you can hear it, you can predict it and you can deal with it'. As usual Zoe was cycling four or five metres behind Hannah. With no warning – and for reasons we will never know – a boy on a motorbike slammed into Zoe's back right pannier (we think), knocking her off her bike sideways and a second later slammed into Hannah's back wheel, knocking the wheel out of its dropouts and sending Hannah (we think) up into the air to land on her back.

Zoe: I was feeling that the road was dangerous so I was alert but at the precise point of the accident I don't think anything big was oncoming and I wasn't aware of any specific impending danger. I heard a motorbike coming up behind me so when it hit me I think I knew what it was. I jumped up, kicked my bike off the road and then saw Hannah running back to me. We grabbed each other, and over Hannah's shoulder I could see the motorcyclist lying face down in a ditch. I think I said 'someone's f*cking dead'. I didn't realise that Hannah had also been hit until she said that it was difficult for her to breathe and I saw the state of her back. She went very pale and sweaty. Amazingly I have a few nice bruises but not a single cut.

Hannah: At the point of the accident I was also unaware of any specific impending danger. I heard a crash behind me and then within a second my bike was hit from behind quite silently but with incredible force. The next thing I knew I was lying on my back thinking 'whatever has just hit me had already run over Zoe and I am about to see her injured or dead'. I jumped up and ran back to her and she was on her feet swearing like a trouper so I knew she was ok. It was then that I realised it was hard for me to breathe and speak, so I sat down on the verge to concentrate on breathing and Zoe told me that my back was cut.

Everything that followed we could have predicted absolutely. The motorcyclist turned out to be uninjured, and sat near Hannah with his head in his hands. A fascinated crowd gathered within seconds, their vehicles bringing the busy road to a standstill. Fortunately two people stopped who spoke English. A young man squatted with Hannah and said nice things and suggested she might like to pray (Zoe was sarcastic to him about this but generally he was more helpful than not). A policeman turned up and directed the traffic. Zoe went into teacher mode and, with the help of a local English teacher, eventually managed to get a passing oplet (minibus) to take us and all our stuff to the hospital in Kalianda (about 15kms on). This was not as easy as it might sound, as Indonesians aren't very logical and members of the crowd were keen on a. taking us to the police station first, b. taking our bikes back to the nearest village and c. separating us from each other and from our stuff.

On arrival at the small hospital Zoe handed 20,000 rupiah to the oplet driver (probably a little over the going rate) but he said he wanted 100,000 from us. Staggering.

Hannah was taken into casualty in a wheelchair (unnecessary) while a crowd gathered to watch Zoe lock up our two bikes and carry (unaided) our ten bags inside. The crowd (including some children and several policemen) then proceeded to the trauma room to watch Hannah having her back cleaned up and five stitches put in whilst lying face down on a back copy of the Lampung Post. Other members of the public looked through the windows to enable them to continue smoking. Fortunately the female doctor and male nurse both spoke reasonable English and whilst the facilities were basic we had confidence in them. On hearing the crowd in the room described by Zoe, Hannah said 'this country is amazing' and the doctor said 'oh thank you'.

Next Zoe was interviewed by the first of a series of policemen (were you cycling two-abreast, was the motorcyclist speeding, what is your job, etc) whilst Hannah was wheeled elsewhere for a chest x-ray. (HD: I remember that a child followed me and the nurse and the jolly flip-flop-wearing radiographer into the x-ray room, which also contained an incubator. I had to remove my top, which was painful to do, and then I had to stand for the x-ray at which point I think I almost fainted. Whilst waiting for the x-ray to be processed I had a momentary cry thinking about the instant before I knew Zoe was ok. The radiographer brought me some water in a cup and saucer and the nurse asked me if I'd like to listen to Celine Dion on his mobile phone. Unfortunately the doctor said she couldn't read the x-ray so I had go back to have another one done. A surgeon was consulted about the x-rays, which showed no broken ribs and no burst lung. Apparently the pain all around my torso is probably muscular, which makes sense.)

Then there was some sitting around and more police arrived to ask more pointless questions. (HD: A very young policemen asked me 'where do you want to go now?'. I replied 'to my mum' and we both laughed. Then he said 'no, I mean, if this hadn't happened'. I said we had been heading for Java but that now we just needed to get to a clean hotel at which point he suggested we go to his house. The English teacher turned up again and after considerable discussion the police started acting a bit more appropriately. They asked us to write a statement, in which Hannah expressed our views about Indonesian road safety in general terms but stated that we do not know how the accident happened and do not intend to pursue the motorcyclist. The police tried to insist on fixing our bicycles, which we firmly declined. Then they said they would take us to a hotel for which they would pay, and that they would drive us to Jakarta if we wanted them to. (HD: In the midst of all this I said to Zoe that I hurt, and she made me laugh by replying 'you probably just need to fart' which is exactly what I always say whenever either of us is ill.)

At the hotel the manager was briefed with all the relevant details such as our jobs, and instructed to look after us. (HD: Since then I have been lying uncomfortably on my side letting the air-conditioning dry my back out whilst being waited on hand and foot by Zoe. Last night she went out to get some really nice fried rice and chocolate and phoned Dr Farmer for advice about the painkillers I'd been given. I can breathe and talk properly now and after a decent night's sleep had some bakso (meatball noodle soup) and mangos for breakfast then rice with tofu, marinated aubergines, green beans, cucumber and lemon mint for lunch. No loss of appetite to report. I'm taking antibiotics (to prevent infection) and painkillers and feeling sore in a rather weird way but otherwise ok. By the way the stitches, dressings and drugs cost us about $10 but we didn't have to pay for the x-rays.)

Last night the parents of 'the boy' – as he is referred to – turned up at our hotel looking worried and asked Zoe to write again that we do not intend to pursue their son. She wrote simply that we were hit from behind so we do not know what happened and we do not have any trouble with this man. This morning his uncle turned up wanting more written statements from us to this effect, which Zoe refused to give, pointing out to him that it might have been nice to ask how Hannah was feeling. We think the police will probably hassle this family considerably (which we do not want any part of) along with the oplet driver who took advantage of us (who we reckon deserves to be hassled).

We’ll be heading to Jakarta tomorrow with police assistance. We'll hang out there for a few days, get Hannah's stitches taken out and then probably figure out a reduced itinerary for Java using trains if possible (with a little cycling on quiet roads only*) and then proceed to Bali for our Christmas 'holiday'. Hopefully Hannah's back will have recovered sufficiently to enable her to wear a diving tank.

Our predominant emotions are a. relieved that it wasn't worse and b. gutted that it looks as though we'll probably have to forgo several hundred kilometres of cycling in Java. But (as other cycling bloggers have also observed) it's so dangerous here it's pretty much impossible to enjoy the landscape from the roads anyway.

Stay tuned for the next thrilling installment in our Indonesian adventure and check out Flickr where we've uploaded some new pics.

*It looks as though the force of the impact on Hannah's rear tyre split the inner tube on an inside seam and blew the valve clean off. Our first puncture! The wheel may need a small amount of truing and one rim is slightly scratched, but otherwise the wheel looks alright!

Tuesday, December 2, 2008

Tis the season to be jolly, tra la la la la...

Thanks for the many kind comments and emails. During the final month of our trip we're thinking of publishing a Q&A on our blog. We've thought of a few questions for each other and we'd like to invite you to send us some. Please specify whether your question is for Zoe or Hannah or both. Also, we fancy singing Christmas carols as we cycle, to entertain ourselves and the locals. If you'd like to nominate your favourite carol (and- better still - email us the words) we'll be happy to dedicate our rendition to you!