Leaving Bandung
On January 10th, I set out from Bandung toward Tasik. I left Ostel Hotel, where I had spent a comfortable night. The hotel stood out for its cleanliness, something rare in my journey through Indonesia.
The plan was to cover about 100 kilometers today, and I was relieved to see the weather was clear. Bandung has proper cycling lanes, and even though there are not many cyclists, the presence of a lane gives a sense of safety that is hard to describe.
Traffic jams appeared in many places, but I was slowly getting used to them. To avoid some of the congestion, I decided to take detours.
Into the Narrow Streets
The back roads were much narrower, but they revealed unique neighborhoods. Each block had its own character, its own face, and I enjoyed taking in the changing atmosphere.
Crossing a small bridge, the scenery shifted again. Sometimes the road ended abruptly, but there was always someone to help. “This is my house, you can’t go further. Cross the bridge and take the other side,” a kind local explained. Simple guidance like that made the ride so much easier.
Small Encounters, Small Surprises
Cycling through greener scenery, I could already see the outline of the mountains ahead. My body filled with both excitement and a sense of challenge knowing that was the path I would soon climb.
When hunger struck, I stopped by a fruit stall. I asked if there was a place to eat lunch nearby. “First, try my fruit,” the shopkeeper said with a smile, offering me mango. But to my surprise, he covered it with spicy sauce.
It wasn’t hidden at all. The sweetness of the mango disappeared instantly in the heat. I couldn’t finish it, and with some guilt I thanked him and asked again about food. Luckily, the shop two doors away served Mie Goreng. If only I had walked a little further from the start!
After lunch, I noticed a TikTok video shoot happening nearby, which gave the street a festive feel. Soon, I continued on my ride, though the road turned steep like a mountain path.
Rain, Slopes, and Help from Children
The navigation app directed me to a smaller road. Unsure if it was correct, I asked some elderly women nearby. They kindly pointed out the right direction, and I followed. These little side roads always spark excitement for me—they are filled with discovery.
Finally, I reached a steep downhill. The slope was so intense that my cap and sunglasses flew off. If a car had been right behind me, it could have been dangerous.
Then the rain clouds rolled in. I rested under shelter, stretching my body while I waited. Within ten minutes, heavy rain poured down. In Southeast Asia, weather shifts so suddenly, but after weeks of travel, I was beginning to read the rhythm of the skies.
When the rain stopped, I found a roadside stall and had noodles for dinner. As I pushed uphill again, exhaustion began to set in. Suddenly, a group of children appeared.
To my amazement, they ran up and started pushing my bicycle from behind. Their small hands and laughter gave me strength I didn’t have left. I felt pure gratitude.
Hospitality in Kamasri Village
They led me to their village. Around thirty villagers came out to see me. One family invited me to stay the night, warning that traveling further in the dark would be dangerous.
I ended up staying with the young man I had first spoken to. His family welcomed me warmly, serving traditional dishes. When asked what food I liked, I said “shrimp.” To my surprise, they actually prepared fried shrimp just for me. I was shocked and deeply touched.
Later that night, around 10 p.m., villagers gathered outside for a campfire. The air was colder than expected, and the fire warmed us all. I sat there surrounded by laughter, kindness, and glowing embers.
The people of Kamasri village, on my way to Tasik, gave me a night I will never forget. Their generosity turned a difficult day into one filled with warmth and gratitude.
