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.