Sulawesi on a Sunday, with karate
Sunday, March 13
Pendolo - Siuri
Very pretty village road edges the lake for most of the way
Contains some highly serious ascents
Lake swimming and Yoga
Accommodation in cottages on the beach
As we left in the morning Colin warned us that there were "two very serious ascents" on the day's ride, which would be made more difficult by sections of bad road. There was a sense of trepidation as we cycled toward Bancea, where the first ascent started about 20k in.
In Bancea I saw an old guy sitting on his porch with his wife. He had this half-finished canoe in his yard. We had seen a few others. I liked the way it looked.
We stopped for a break at the base of the first hill, where we happened on a school that was full of kids on some kind of field trip or Sunday activity.
We asked about the road ahead and they nodded somberly. "This hill is pretty bad," one girl volunteered, "but the next one is a lot worse." Agreement all around. Great, we thought. The hill didn’t look that big from a distance, but you know how these things go…
The goal at the top of the first hill was the Bancea Orchid Park, which sounded very nice. It was a stiff climb but not terribly long, and we all rolled in about the same time. Of course you had to hike back down the hill to get to the orchids. There were stairs, but they were slippery and moss-covered, so we had to creep down carefully. The orchard park was a solid disappointment-not only did it have no bathrooms, but the orchids were locked up in a kind of wire cage, and none of them were blooming! Except for one wild one, which was out of the cage:
The only consolation was the lovely beach, but we had no time to swim (and I had to pee!).
We headed back up for a snack and a rest before pushing on to the next ascent.
This one was indeed a Serious Hill. I cranked down to first gear, and we all had to walk a short section where the road had washed out and there was nothing but rubble. (This was the only time I walked for the whole tour, though-I took on all the other hills with relish!) I made the top and stood for a while to wait for Colin so I could talk him through the descent (After the first long descent, I'd realized that he couldn't see potholes coming at all, and figuring that we really couldn't afford to have him bounce off his bike and break his neck, had taken on the role of Seeing-Eye Rooster to guide him through hairy sections of the road). In the quiet of the midday jungle I heard strange noises in the trees above, and looking up, I saw a huge bird moving in the branches. It was a hornbill! I fumbled out my camera and took a very poor photo of it.
Then some other people rode up, talking, and the birds took flight. There were four of them, and you could hear their wings moving the air with great whooshes as they flapped ponderously away.
After that there was one of those luscious descents that was a bit nerve-wracking due to high speeds and potholes and trying not to get our Fearless Leader killed, but the view at the bottom was totally worth it.
It was Sunday, and in the villages we rode through (which were mostly Christian in this area) we kept coming across people in their Sunday best, on their way to church. And also people on bikes.
We also passed churches full of congregations singing cheerful hymns. And then we rounded a corner and I saw some kids in white uniforms. "That's funny," I thought. "They look like they're wearing dogi." And indeed they were! There was an open tiled area next to the road where a huge group of kids was doing karate.
We all stopped and got off our bikes and I dragged Colin over to talk to the teacher (he was pretty easy to spot, being one of two black belts and the only one with an authoritative bearing). I couldn't believe someone was teaching karate way out here in the sticks. And there were so many kids! Their uniforms were spotless, and they were very disciplined, and-most surprising-half of them were girls.
The sensei said that they practiced a style of karate called "Inkai," which I had never heard of, but it seemed to be related to Shotokan, as he knew all the Heian kata. I asked them if they would do a demonstration, and he laughed and said, no, YOU have to do one! I was put on the spot-I hadn't been in the karate dojo for two weeks, and I'd been riding a bike for 50 miles, and the LAST thing on my mind was karate! So I asked the kids what kata they wanted to see, and they said Heian nidan, so I did that (but I think I screwed up the last part).
They loved it and applauded enthusiastically, and then we all took pictures together.
I kept asking them to do a demonstration, but first the teacher asked me to do Jion, which is one of the black-belt level kata, and one I always have trouble remembering. Well, anyway, I did it, and then all the kids did Heian shodan (the most basic kata) for us. They were all right. It was clear that they were learning discipline and form, if not perfect karate, and I was really impressed. The teacher said he had dojo in Tentena and Poso as well, with lots of students. I wished we could talk more, but I knew we were interrupting their practice, so we said our farewells. This was another high point of the trip for me, not least because my travel companions, dedicated cyclists all, could understand a little bit of what my life was really about. I don't cycle much at all, except to get around town, and I'd undertaken this trip pretty much straight off the tatami, without a lot of preparation (as evidenced by my lack of cycling gear, sunblock, etc). The Other Paul in particular seemed impressed by my demonstration (though even remembering it now, I'm mostly mortified).
But the teacher seemed happy with the performance.
Anyway, we rode on. There was lots more climbing into the afternoon,
but we had a great stop at a warung where there were coconuts!
Some crazy people don’t like fresh coconuts, so I got to eat at least three of them. Somehow I managed to waddle out of the hut and flop myself back into the saddle, and it took about 30 km of riding before they were tamped down in any way. COCONUTS!
At any rate, we finally got to Siuri, where we were staying in a really nice set of beach cottages on the lake. And the resort restaurant sold beer! The yoga attendance was at a record low, though, and after yoga we had a bit of a talk about the disparity in levels between all of us. Basically the message was that people felt that they were being given more than they could handle, and they wanted less of a challenge. Colin accepted the feedback with great aplomb, and from that day onward the yoga sessions were much more basic and a bit easier (I still sweated like hell every time, though!). We had an epic dinner with delicious beer, and fell into bed and slept like the dead.
Pendolo - Siuri
Very pretty village road edges the lake for most of the way
Contains some highly serious ascents
Lake swimming and Yoga
Accommodation in cottages on the beach
As we left in the morning Colin warned us that there were "two very serious ascents" on the day's ride, which would be made more difficult by sections of bad road. There was a sense of trepidation as we cycled toward Bancea, where the first ascent started about 20k in.
In Bancea I saw an old guy sitting on his porch with his wife. He had this half-finished canoe in his yard. We had seen a few others. I liked the way it looked.
We stopped for a break at the base of the first hill, where we happened on a school that was full of kids on some kind of field trip or Sunday activity.
We asked about the road ahead and they nodded somberly. "This hill is pretty bad," one girl volunteered, "but the next one is a lot worse." Agreement all around. Great, we thought. The hill didn’t look that big from a distance, but you know how these things go…
The goal at the top of the first hill was the Bancea Orchid Park, which sounded very nice. It was a stiff climb but not terribly long, and we all rolled in about the same time. Of course you had to hike back down the hill to get to the orchids. There were stairs, but they were slippery and moss-covered, so we had to creep down carefully. The orchard park was a solid disappointment-not only did it have no bathrooms, but the orchids were locked up in a kind of wire cage, and none of them were blooming! Except for one wild one, which was out of the cage:
The only consolation was the lovely beach, but we had no time to swim (and I had to pee!).
We headed back up for a snack and a rest before pushing on to the next ascent.
This one was indeed a Serious Hill. I cranked down to first gear, and we all had to walk a short section where the road had washed out and there was nothing but rubble. (This was the only time I walked for the whole tour, though-I took on all the other hills with relish!) I made the top and stood for a while to wait for Colin so I could talk him through the descent (After the first long descent, I'd realized that he couldn't see potholes coming at all, and figuring that we really couldn't afford to have him bounce off his bike and break his neck, had taken on the role of Seeing-Eye Rooster to guide him through hairy sections of the road). In the quiet of the midday jungle I heard strange noises in the trees above, and looking up, I saw a huge bird moving in the branches. It was a hornbill! I fumbled out my camera and took a very poor photo of it.
Then some other people rode up, talking, and the birds took flight. There were four of them, and you could hear their wings moving the air with great whooshes as they flapped ponderously away.
After that there was one of those luscious descents that was a bit nerve-wracking due to high speeds and potholes and trying not to get our Fearless Leader killed, but the view at the bottom was totally worth it.
It was Sunday, and in the villages we rode through (which were mostly Christian in this area) we kept coming across people in their Sunday best, on their way to church. And also people on bikes.
We also passed churches full of congregations singing cheerful hymns. And then we rounded a corner and I saw some kids in white uniforms. "That's funny," I thought. "They look like they're wearing dogi." And indeed they were! There was an open tiled area next to the road where a huge group of kids was doing karate.
We all stopped and got off our bikes and I dragged Colin over to talk to the teacher (he was pretty easy to spot, being one of two black belts and the only one with an authoritative bearing). I couldn't believe someone was teaching karate way out here in the sticks. And there were so many kids! Their uniforms were spotless, and they were very disciplined, and-most surprising-half of them were girls.
The sensei said that they practiced a style of karate called "Inkai," which I had never heard of, but it seemed to be related to Shotokan, as he knew all the Heian kata. I asked them if they would do a demonstration, and he laughed and said, no, YOU have to do one! I was put on the spot-I hadn't been in the karate dojo for two weeks, and I'd been riding a bike for 50 miles, and the LAST thing on my mind was karate! So I asked the kids what kata they wanted to see, and they said Heian nidan, so I did that (but I think I screwed up the last part).
They loved it and applauded enthusiastically, and then we all took pictures together.
I kept asking them to do a demonstration, but first the teacher asked me to do Jion, which is one of the black-belt level kata, and one I always have trouble remembering. Well, anyway, I did it, and then all the kids did Heian shodan (the most basic kata) for us. They were all right. It was clear that they were learning discipline and form, if not perfect karate, and I was really impressed. The teacher said he had dojo in Tentena and Poso as well, with lots of students. I wished we could talk more, but I knew we were interrupting their practice, so we said our farewells. This was another high point of the trip for me, not least because my travel companions, dedicated cyclists all, could understand a little bit of what my life was really about. I don't cycle much at all, except to get around town, and I'd undertaken this trip pretty much straight off the tatami, without a lot of preparation (as evidenced by my lack of cycling gear, sunblock, etc). The Other Paul in particular seemed impressed by my demonstration (though even remembering it now, I'm mostly mortified).
But the teacher seemed happy with the performance.
Anyway, we rode on. There was lots more climbing into the afternoon,
but we had a great stop at a warung where there were coconuts!
Some crazy people don’t like fresh coconuts, so I got to eat at least three of them. Somehow I managed to waddle out of the hut and flop myself back into the saddle, and it took about 30 km of riding before they were tamped down in any way. COCONUTS!
At any rate, we finally got to Siuri, where we were staying in a really nice set of beach cottages on the lake. And the resort restaurant sold beer! The yoga attendance was at a record low, though, and after yoga we had a bit of a talk about the disparity in levels between all of us. Basically the message was that people felt that they were being given more than they could handle, and they wanted less of a challenge. Colin accepted the feedback with great aplomb, and from that day onward the yoga sessions were much more basic and a bit easier (I still sweated like hell every time, though!). We had an epic dinner with delicious beer, and fell into bed and slept like the dead.