Farewell in Pronojiwo
February 9th, Pronojiwo. After one day of delay due to rain, the sky was finally clear. This time, I knew I wouldn’t have to turn back.
The goodbye was not easy. I had stayed with Chandra’s family for four nights and five days. From the first moment to the last, they had shown me kindness in ways big and small. Preparing meals, sharing laughter, treating me as family. I bowed my head in gratitude as I prepared to leave.
With sweat quickly forming under the hot sun, I began the long ride to Jember, nearly 100 kilometers away. The first 10 kilometers were all uphill, a steep climb that tested my strength. Yet I knew that once I passed this section, the rest would be downhill. I pushed on.
Encounters Along the Road
At a large bridge, I passed a group of local cyclists. Their energy and smiles reminded me how much joy the open road can bring.
Not long after, a man called out to me, gesturing as if asking, “Have you eaten yet?” I waved back and continued, but a few kilometers later, he was waiting for me. To my surprise, he offered me a fresh coconut juice.
As we talked, I learned that he knew the family of Adi—the man I had stayed with just one week earlier. Incredibly, he even tried to connect us through a video call. Adi was too busy making his pancakes to answer, but the coincidence amazed me. Encounters like this make the road feel like it carries invisible threads of connection.
Cycling Through Rice Fields
As I rode further, the houses thinned out. Soon it was just me, the open road, and endless rice fields stretching in every direction.
The road itself was rough, far from ideal for cycling, but there was peace in the quiet. Few cars passed, and for a while, I felt the solitude of a true solo journey. Along the way, I found old railway tracks, clearly unused for years. They stood as a reminder that some discoveries only happen when you take the slower road.
After the rice fields, the last 20 kilometers were straight along a main road. By then, I was thirsty and hungry, so I stopped for pineapple juice and a bowl of Soto Ayam. Simple food, but after hours of cycling, it tasted like comfort.
Later, I ordered dragon fruit juice to drink as I continued riding. Not long after, heavy rain came down again. I searched for shelter, and a kind man gestured for me to rest at his place until the storm passed. Another act of generosity from a stranger on the road.
Treehouse Stay in Jember
By evening, I reached Jember. My lodging for the night was unlike any I had stayed in before: a treehouse surrounded by greenery.
Inside, the wooden walls gave a sense of warmth and childhood wonder. It felt like the secret base I once dreamed of as a boy. My tired legs forgot their pain as my heart lifted with excitement.
As night came, I thought I would search for food outside, but instead, I was invited to share dinner with a group. Perhaps because I had not eaten much since lunch, I ended up eating more than anyone—enough for three or four people, they joked.
Around the table, many fellow cyclists joined, sharing stories and laughter. Despite the exhaustion of the 100km ride, the day ended not in fatigue, but in joy and gratitude.
It was a day of farewell, challenge, coincidence, and kindness—everything a journey can hold in a single day.
