The Man Who Rode Around Borneo - 12 Into The Unknown (Preview)

I started day 19 super early. After the drama last night, I set about to be more careful. Anything resembles trouble; I should immediately leave and seek assistance. That was the new ground rules I set for myself. Please know no one was hurt from last night. I managed to soothe the tension and indirectly made it known to the two young men my background and I was in no mood to be hassled. I believed sharing with them my coffee and stories of my journey helps. They left back to where they had come from slightly before midnight.

I am ready and have all my gears readied since last night, what I needed to do now was to clean my coffee mug, the portable stove, lug everything down, get my bike out from the garage at the back and wait for Willy (the Young gun) arrival. By 7 o’clock local time, the sun can be seen rising steadily beyond the tree lines and the small border village already buzzing with immigration officers from nearby quarters riding towards the border and military personnel doing their morning run. Those military morning run reminded me of my younger days. Only different was they were stationed far away from anything resembling civilization. I didn’t had the chance to speak to any of them even though I tried.

Willy showed up right on time and ordered two cup of coffee. One cups each for the both of us. While waiting for our coffee, he told me straight away that after the rain from last night, his motorbike might not make it through and its best I go on alone and it’ll be safe as it’s still early. I am cool and being clueless about the road ahead, I told him I’ll do it. We chatted more on my route and he provided me with a contact in case I needed some sort of assistance while I am in the jungle road. This guy seems alright and I felt really bad to think he set me up last night. I told him all about it and he asked where those two were. I told him they had left and I had no idea where too.  Willy finished up his coffee, made payment for the two coffees, excused himself and told me to stay put. I have no idea what he was up too so I chill and finished my coffee while absorbing the surrounding. Surprisingly, there are many kids heading to school coming out from the jungle track further down where I was seated.  I asked the shop owner where those kids come from and I was told from inside the jungle where there are about 200 families, presumably Dayak.

“From the jungle?” I asked.
“Yes. There are people inside, mostly Dayak.” That explains why there is no Mosque in the area. “They have been here for so long.” He continued.

I remembered that he must know about the two young men that came in the night so I asked him about it. The two boys are from “behind” pointing where Sarawak was and probably were there as illegal plantation workers and had cross over temporarily to “buy” provisions. The coffeeshop where I was at and stayed last night was one of the two provision shop selling everyday sundries and products. That included pre-paid mobile SIM card, petrol, engine oil and more.

I put together the information and now realised those two probably were with the group of plantation workers I spoke too at Kampung Biawak yesterday. I do not want that to be bothering me anymore and decided to put those behind me and look forward for the rest of my adventure in Kalimantan. After spoken to Dodo, I now know 29 days to cover Kalimantan fell a little too short. It might take me 40 to 50 days to traverse from Kampung Arouk to Tarakan via the ‘Provinsi’ Road (In one section in Central Kalimantan, I’ll be traversing 4 days in a jungle road). That if I can cover 160km daily and without rest days. A new task for me was to look at my route again and plan it such a way I can be Samarinda 5 days before my visa expired. I might not make it out of Kalimantan on time. That is for sure. I’ll take one day at a time.

Ten minute after he left, Willy came back, told me to start packing and moving. He repeated the route to me once again in Bahasa, “ At the 20km mark, there will be a junction, no marking and you go left towards Gading. Another 30km away and still in the jungle trail up many times and down many times, rough, broken, more junction and probably you will get lost.  Or you can load your bike on a lorry towards Gading and continue on from there”.

“You think I can cycle through?” I asked one last time before making the final decision.
“I cannot tell, never had never see anyone on a bicycle going through this section.” Willy blew his cigarette smokes up in the air, flicks his cigarette after and ordered another cup of coffee. This time just one cup.

I was convinced and that was what I was in Kalimantan for, a cycling adventure. To appease Willy my new friend, I had told him I’ll take the lorry which I was told only coming in later at 9am. My real plan was to pedal out quietly after we parted way. That was my final decision. It’s still early and if someone wanted to rob me, they will do it later part of the day. It was so easy to convince myself. Too easy, really. We shook hand, he wishes me all the best and smacked me on my back and gave me a smile. I asked him where his rifle was. “I only hunt at night! I am here to see you” Wow, I am touched and this guy could be right after all about what he had told me what was ahead of me. I gritted my teeth, thank him again and pedal slowly towards the jungle road. What a bullock I am if I ever got rob.

I waited for Willy to ride away before I mounted my bike. As I pedal along, I turned to the “thug’s coffeeshop” and since it was still early, only few of them were there. I slowed down to scan if the two from last night was in the group. They weren’t there. I raised my hand to wave and say “Selamat Pagi” (Good morning) to them. I got their respond and of course I was surprised and happy. Just after the “thug’s coffeeshop”, a nice looking gentleman standing on the tarmac, seems way to friendly greeted me ‘Selamat Pagi’ and stop me. We shook hand; I introduced myself and he asked where I was going. I told him Gading and if I survived, to Sambas. He laughed and told me I am crazy.

“You Willy friend, right?” This guy seems to know about me already and he seems okay. He doesn’t look like someone who’s going to skim my rupiah.
“Yes, I just had coffee with him back there” I pointed to the coffeeshop where we were seated.

We chatted for a few more minutes and found out he was the lorry driver Willy told me about. Not just a lorry, but 4x4 capable (or was it 6x6 I can’t remember). He had laid out for me the obstacle ahead and I was sold to be on the lorry but that after I cycle forward to take a look at the condition of the track ahead. He laughed and told me to come back by 8am as he need my bags and bike to load and the lorry leaving at 9 or 9.30am. I was also told not to go far as the road inside had turn into streams and it’s muddy after the rain from last night. I know what he meant as I’ve experienced all that before.I love this guy already. I’ll definitely be back by 8 or 8.30 and since he is the driver of the lorry plying from Sambas to Kampung Arouk rain or shine, and I remembered someone had told me that they are the best people to ask for route and it conditions. I decided to stay a while, took my map out and ask him questions.

He went on telling me section by section on our route for today, and drawing me the route on a piece of paper. After the rain, most parts are not passable. Best bet is his lorry as it was an off-road beast, capable with tires for muddy road. He pointed to my bike and showed me the “dying” sign using his finger. I remembered how he told me the mountain broken road alone can kill me or my bike, not to mention the rocky track and the holes. I tried to visualize it and didn’t see what the big deal was until we were there couple of hours later.
“What about the preman?” I asked. (Preman is Indonesia version for gangsters)
“If they are there waiting and you give them all your money, you can continue”
“If I don’t, what happen?”
“I don’t know. I have not tried that. But maybe they won’t disturb you as you’re poor”. He pointed to my bike and laughed.

I am quite satisfied with his brief on the route and now for me to make the decision. I’ve learned from Sumatra experience that cycling seeking adventure is one part and staying alive to ride another day is another part. So what was it?

From the wild Kalimantan on the first day, I am now experienced the nicest side of Kalimantan. Perhaps it was my instinct to have chased Willy yesterday.  I was happy with the information and told the driver I’ll ride towards the road for a little bit for photo and will return after. We shook hand again and I ride off.  One part of me wanted to scoot from there and go on ahead and if I am in trouble, I’ll wait for the lorry and another part of me insisted for me to be cool and calm. Listen to the expert of the local territory. There will be more ahead. Truth to be told, I was right. A few days later, I rode all alone by myself in Central. It was the loneliest days of my life.

So I went on ahead past the Police Post, rode over the broken bridge and true enough, it wasn’t passable with my bike. Before I can go very far past the empty Police Post, I saw what was ahead of me, jungle trail with thick mud, rocks filling up the muddy trail and water logged section if the road wasn’t inclining. I can push my bike but the question was how long would it be for me to be doing it? Alright then, I’ve seen enough. Be smart and stay smart. Cycling seeking adventure is one part and staying alive to ride another day is another. I’ve stay alive so far by following these three adventure principal: Read the sign, use common sense and don’t be stupid. I made the turn and headed back to where I started.

I was back at the waiting point in no time and having coffee with the lorry driver. Not long after, the lorry arrived driven by the assistant. I pushed my bike towards where the lorry was parked. Within 10 minutes, crowd came out of nowhere, from the jungle and anywhere I didn’t expect there will be people coming out from. I was told later most of them if not all working in Malaysia and going back to where ever they came from, some as far as Java and Lombok before repeating the cycle all over again. But coming out from the jungle? It’s best I leave it at that. I didn’t asked further and decided to just observe the people and try to be like them. It was a good call to be on the lorry as I am now “closer to the locals”, in a way.  My bike and panniers were up on the roof and we are all sets to go.

The lorry drove off at half past nine and it went crawling. About 2km later, the lorry stop to collect some provisions from one abandoned Kampung house. I was puzzled. Later on I found out, the goods came in from Malaysia (probably across the border from Kampung Biawak, Lundu or further Kuching) and going to be delivered to shops along the way. How it had got there? Illegally? I didn’t ask either. The lorry driver and assistant don’t keep any delivery paper or receipt; they just know what products goes to where. They charged depending on distances and its all cash. I figured for every 10k’s, its 20,000 Rupiah. That is really cheap. The lorry was actually the lifeline between Kampung Arouk and Gading while ferrying people into Sambas as there were no way people from there could commute regularly on a bad road like that on their bike.  One trip a day and from Kampung Arouk to Sambas, over 84km, it will take approximately 8hrs and if it raining, it might take forever. So if my mathematic was accurate, that would be an average of 10km an hour. How long will it take me if I am going to cover that distances on my bicycle there? 3 days. Later on I found out three days weren’t realistic.

The moment we passed the police post, where I was earlier, the driver engaging the 4 wheel drive mechanism and move on upward slowly. The lorry assistant sitting across me gave me a funny look and pointed to the track and said, “You want to cycle?” We laughed and I told him I am keen if he is coming with me.  It was a good call on my side to have boarded the lorry as the moment we went deeper into the jungle; the track got worst, it’s horrendous! I don’t think I could ever cycle on it. It was rocky, holes and with mud, mostly slimy. It went on and on until we arrived in Gading. It took about 4 odd hours to cover that 50km! The scenery was beautiful though. There was still a bit primary forest in it, beautiful stream, small waterfall (from the rain last night) and true enough, hunters! I heard the shooting in there. While we were being thrown around in the lorry, we get chatting, we shared our origin, what were we doing in Kampung Arouk, where we heading and many more. One guy, grabbed his bag, and unzips it and brought out a bunch of bananas to share after I told him I was hungry and there wasn’t anything resembling a warung along that jungle road. Another lady brought her Indonesian ‘kueh’ (pastry) and shared with us. I spied a dude tried so hard to court one young girl but failed terribly. During one ‘pee-stop’, an elder guy gave him some tips. “Tell her you’re from Singapore!” Yea right, like that could work. We had so much fun and towards Gading, a young girl sang a few songs. These people were as real as you can get. They are not embarrassed to share with strangers about their hardship and life story. In a place very foreign to me, I felt like I am one of them. I am lucky to have met them all and I wish all of them a beautiful future wherever they will be.

After 4 odd hours of very rough riding in the back of the lorry, we saw the sign, Gading. They, my new friends knew I am dropping off there. I was asked to continue until Sambas and to cycle from there. It was so hard. In the end, when we arrived in Gading, the lorry driver decided to make it as a lunch stop so the rest can get off and have lunch with me. It was a moment I will remember for a very long time. I gave my driver friend a good hug to thank him for everything he did for me before they moved off again. No rupiah was exchange even though I tried. “We are friend and I want you to write about us too.” He quipped before getting on his lorry and drove away.

Gading is not a place I would want to hang around. Everyone there was giving me a stabbing look. Gading itself is like a place where no one else wanted to be there. I was like their first foreign visitor.  It was filthy. Rubbish everywhere. I am talking about pile of rubbish being left by the roadside for days. It was oppressive. The odour was insistent. Actually Gading was worst then the border crossing, Kampung Arouk. Rubbish were strewn practically everywhere. In front of home, in the canal, anywhere where there was space. It appeared like if you have something to throw; you just chuck it away wherever you feel like. I mounted my bike and left.

The way out of Gading was complicated. I lost the lorry ahead of me. I am in the middle of Gading and there was no sign leading me towards Sambas or at least out of Gading. Before I could go far, I was stop by a young man on his bike and asked if I need a place to stay. I thank him, say no and asked him which way to Sambas. He gestured for me to follow him. Blardy kid rode his bike like as if I can pedal 40km an hour on a broken road! I didn’t bother to chase him but rode slowly behind him. He stopped every now and then for me to catch up and I was laughing silently inside me. Funny because every time I lost him or he thought he lost me, he will make a turn and gestured for me to pedal faster. One time he came to my side and asked me to go faster. It’s hard for me to explain to him that my blardy bicycle cannot go any faster on a blardy broken road. I think he left me in the end. Thanks to the kid, I found the road out and Sambas wasn’t far. That was what I thought. On a broken road going 5 to 10km/h, it would take me forever to reach Sambas, approximately 34km from where I was.

There wasn’t anything that I could photograph. The Kampung home was like it has been there forever and not a single thing being done to it. Road were narrow and broken and on some stretch it was like a bomb was just drop onto it. I would prefer to ride fast forward and not spend so much time there.

I reached outskirts of Sambas slightly after 5pm. Thank God! I was dirty and tired and camping was out of the question. I could ride to the Police Station or the Fire Station but in the end, I ended up in the Commando Post which is common in every Indonesian Province and city. When I arrived at post, the only Guard on duty was sleeping on the table with full gears on. I knock on the window several times but he didn’t wake up. I leaned my bike against the flag pole and went back to the guard post. I knocked on the window again, this time harder.

“Excuse me, hello....” I say it loudly and this time Mr Commando jump out from his sleep and turns to me.
“What is it?” He asked in Bahasa Indonesia.

I introduced myself, where I came from and why I was there. Mr Commando flatly rejected me with a valid reason. Fair enough and asked him where was the Fire Station or the Police Station and was told he have no idea. This commando really lives up to his unit credo. I guess he can’t wait for me to scoot so he can go back to sleep on his table. I made the decision to head into Sambas and my night in Sambas was nothing to write about as I ended in some filthy ‘losmen’ (Backpackers), even the bathing water was so dirty I thought I would be cleaner if I didn’t shower. I wonder how long more can I go on in Kalimantan.

 I woke up on day 20 and all fired up as I can’t wait to get out of Sambas. I was ready by at 6am and the first stop was a local Warung selling ‘Nasi Padang’ and yes I had that for breakfast. The crowd gathered around my bike to ask the same old questions and I happily obliged and answer them all and in return I asked the best route towards Sengkawang, Pemawah and Pontianak. It happened among the crowd there were two bus drivers plying between Sambas and Pontianak and I was given the direct route out of Sambas and to Pemawah and from Pemawah onwards, to Sengkawang and Pontianak. I was also told the road going to be good and flat and there will be people, Kampung houses, and warung along the way to Pontianak so I can practically replenish water along the way.  I thank everyone, suited up, filled up my water bottles and bought two extra bottles just in case. My plan for the day was not to stop unless I am hungry or if I need to use the toilet. I will race to the next town if there wasn’t anything for me to see. This to cover some lost time.

True enough, after some kilometres riding on bad roads, the road towards Sengkawang was good and with hardly any potholes. I was expecting it to get worst at some stage or it won’t be the ‘Truly Indonesia’ that I know.

My planned not to stop got disrupted somewhere 10km out of Sambas. A station wagon past me gave a friendly honk and stop ahead of me. The driver got out, stood next to his vehicle and gestured for me to stop. He acted as if he knew me or he could be an off duty officer from the local police. Not to get into trouble, I slowed down and stop when I saw it was safe. The gentleman came forward where I was and we shook hand. I didn’t dismount from my bike as I wanted him to see I am in the rush. I was asked where I came from, where I was going and how long have I been on the bicycle. I told him where I was from, where I started and the moment he heard I was from Singapore, I knew it will take forever for me to scoot from there. He seems to be interested to know more about Singapore. I excused myself with a reason that I need to be in Pemawah for lunch and in Pontianak for dinner. I was let go after a photo shoot with him.

I didn’t mind at all as it was good to know people were interested about what you’re doing and the place you come from. Maybe he stops me at the wrong place and at the wrong time. If it was at the end of my day’s ride, I will buy him coffee and chatted longer. After we say our goodbyes, I pedal on again slowly to get back my momentum. Once I hit 25km hour, I kept at that pace and try to be in the zone. I have visualised my route ahead, my rest stop will be at every 20km mark or one hour or whichever come first and I will continue if I am not tired. Once in a while, I whipped my camera out to shoot something that might interest me or for my reference later on. For once, I was enjoying the ride. People here seems nice, I got invited for drink and cut fruits. I didn’t mind at all. There were beautiful padi fields on my left and right. I sat for a short while with the padi field workers and had their coffee too. I learn there were old roads I can ride on towards Sengkawang and I took it and not long, my route led me back out to the ‘Provinsi’ brand new road. It was flat and I could feel the heat already. Still I told myself to move on. I wasn’t tired it was just too hot but I am fitter by now. Thanks to the ride from Kota Kinabalu to Kuching, that prepares me for Kalimantan.
 

I arrived in Pemawah 50km away from Sambas at 11 o’clock and it was a good time for me to rest and went for early lunch. I had the common Mee Bakso with two ‘teh botol’ which was the local favourite. I scooted after 30 minutes later and my next stop was Sengkawang another 60km away which if I am consistent, I could be there by 3pm. All looking good and I were in the zone. Road was still flat and good. On my left was Dutch era Kampung with their typical canal in the front and on my right was the Sulawesi Sea. Not much for me to photograph. Again I hit 25km hour and was in the zone until an hour later when I felt pain my right knee. I didn’t want to stop and move on slowly dropping to 20km hour cruising along. Also by now, the heat got me. It was blistering hot in comparison to riding out of Gading as in Gading there were trees lining up most part of the road. In the end, I had no choice as the knee was just too painful and unbearable for me to go on. I stop along the road, dismount from my bike and push it looking for shade. Time was 2pm and I was only 40km from Sengkawang and Pontianak seems so far away now.

I saw a row of shop houses and decided to get in there to rest. I leaned my bike just outside one coffeeshop and order Indonesian version of Ice-tea. A nice Chinese Uncle approached me and we chatted. Same usual questions and I’ve been repeating the answer since Sambas. I am alright with that, also the Uncle has been to Singapore before so it was nice to hear from him on what he thinks of Singapore.

“I love your country! People follow the rules, I can walk without my shoes, the train is clean, the public transports come in regularly (?) and I thought your airport was a shopping mall.” The Uncle went on and on and I am proud to be from Singapore but unfortunately, that was the old Singapore he was referring too. He should visit Singapore and see the Singapore now. In many ways, we are going back to be like living in the 70’s. We have rubbish everywhere, our train breaking down as often and millions new immigrant. Now, that was what Singapore in the 60’s like.

I did asked him the 1 million rupiah question, “Why are there seems to be no one bothered by the rubbish being thrown everywhere?”
“Ini pemikiran orang Indonesia yea. Pemikirannya begitu kebelakang, ketinggalan zamam. Rata-rata negara luar sudah maju kehadapan tetapi orang disini pemikirannya masih ketigalan zaman. Contoh, di Singapura angkutan umun ada AC, bersih dan sering waktu ketibaannya. Lihat angkutan umum disini, masih gunakan bis zaman Belanda!”

Loosely translated: This is the mindset of the people here. Their thinking is still backward. Every other country is moving forward but the people here still thinking backward. For example in Singapore public transport, it’s clean, with aircon and on time. Look at the public transport here; it’s still using the transport left from the Dutch era.
How do you respond to that? And this came from a retired doctor from Kalimantan, Indonesia. I am not sure if the part of the public transport left from the Dutch era but it look like it. While chatting with the Uncle, I also ordered a pack of ice from the coffeeshop to ice my right knee. I couldn’t do anything about it now but I hope when I get into Sengkawang or Pontianak, I could find a specialist to look at it.

I tried taking off again after an hour rest with the ice resting tight on my right knee left for it to melt. I went only 5km and that was it. I couldn’t go anymore. I dismounted and push my bike with a hope to get into Sengkawang to rest for the night. Reality hits me after only 10 meters of pushing my bike. I can’t get far by just pushing my bike. I found an old ship building yard just after an old bridge spanning across one wide river. I took the chance and pay them a visit. I got invited in, given a bottle of coca-cola and a short tour of the yard. One ship builders, age 15 learn the craftsmanship from his dad and when I was there, he was building one 40 footer timber fishing boat! I am lost for words. How resilient this young man. He stood there very cool and shared with me the process of building the fishing boat and where all those timbers come from. It was all handmade and believe me, there wasn’t any nails. It was so mesmerising listening to him that I had forgotten all about my knee. I drank up my coke and rode on. I stop again after only 5 short kilometres realising the pain on my right knee. I remember reading an article on ‘cycling yoga’ on an online by Australia Cycling Magazine and I have it in my phone. I push my bike to look for a shade in hope to rest and read the article. I dismounted and push my bike until I saw an old bike workshop and push my bike there. But it was a place I didn’t want to hang around as it smelled of piss. I guess the customers there just pissed everywhere they pleased as there wasn’t any proper toilet at the workshop. I took a turned and carry on pushing my bike and went looking somewhere else. Life getting difficult and I am only 200km into Kalimantan and there are about 3000 odd kilometres cycling to be done.

In the end I mounted my bike and power it using my left and let the right move along. Painful but I can’t do anything about it but gritted my teeth and endures the pain. Slowly and painfully I arrived outside Sengkawang and went straight to the Commando post to see if there are medical personal to attend to me. Nothing and thank them but before I could go, I was asked to try the warung outside for their ‘Tahu sumbat’, vegetables filled tofu and deep fried. My god, it tasted so good! I ordered more and chatted with the beautiful girl preparing it. What else do you want, I am happy.

Time was slightly after 6pm and I have about 130km to Pontianak. I am not fit to cover that distance but I can just cycle slowly out of Sengkawang and being a populated area, I am sure there will be place for me to stay – cheap hotel of villages. I didn’t make it far out of Sengkawang and after 30 minutes I found an internet cafe and since I have not check in with friends and family, I thought it would be best for me to do so. After that, I decided to get to the first cheap hotel I can find. Being an ‘Ah Moi city’ (Chinese chicks, health spa, massage... ring a bell?), there wasn’t any ‘cheap’ hotel. I was even asked if I need a massage at the first hotel I was at. Sky high 200,000 rupiah! For a night with free 30 minutes massage. But I don’t have 200,000 rupiah a night budget. My budget in Kalimantan was 50,000 (S$8.00) rupiah for a place to sleep.

“Do you know any losmen around here?” I asked the hotel receptionist.
“No, all hotel”. But she politely recommended me the cheapest of all at 80,000rupiah and probably the shittiest too in the middle of the city and I dragged myself there. For an S$11.00, I can’t be expecting the world but at least provide a blardy proper bed, fan and a blardy window. I check-in, clean up, didn’t do the laundry as there weren’t any proper facilities for it and I doubt it can get dry the next morning.

Nothing much happening at night in Sengkawang but to keep in touch with friends, I bought a 20,000 rupiah internet mobile and get on the internet. The surprised I had once I got online- Some thought I was dead! After all the chatting, I dragged myself to do some cleaning up on my bike and check for loose parts. I sat in the room and remain quiet for sometimes and reflect on my journey in Kalimantan. So far, there wasn't any real danger on the road other than it was being really hot. Somehow if I need to be in Samarinda 5 days before my visa expires, I need sort of sped through every city and missed out quite a bit. Do I want that? I'll leave it at that for now and I took out a special oil given to me by my late mom and massage my right knee. I hope the pain will go away the next day. I drift away to sleep while reading and I slept like a baby! It was a night I didn’t mind not to remember.