Riders on the calm: Ubud continues

Have you ever seen that show Lost? It’s about a bunch of arsehole plane survivors stranded on a mysterious island which can jump through the space/time continuum. When it does so, there is a blinding white light with a deafening sound and people drop to their knees in agony until their noses start bleeding. I think the Balinese people also experience such terror every time I go to the swimming pool and take off my shirt. It seems about two decades since my flabby body has seen the sun and the white is blinding. I was going to put up a photo but thought better of it as I didn't want to break the internet...

Anyhow, we’ve been in Ubud for a few days now and I was getting very comfy with this lifestyle: get up, have delicious banana pancakes for breakfast, go for a walk, have lunch, have a swim, have dinner, drink beer, go to sleep – rinse and repeat. However, Ruth wasn’t satisfied with this and felt we should get out and see some culture. As such, I booked us a bike ride through some villages and rice fields – how cultural would that be? Little did I know we were about to undertake the bike ride of death.




We started the ride early in the morning. The scenery was stunning – little towns, rice fields, little kids running by the bikes saying “hello” – oh happy times. The weather was exceptional and warm.


If you were wondering what to do with all those old Nirvana cds, this farmer uses them to scare away birds and it seems like a perfect solution for the music industry's stockpile of cds.


One problem we faced though was that many of the roads were so pot holed filled you couldn’t actually observe the country side because you were too busy focussing on not falling off your bike. In terms of the people we were riding with, we were towards the back, not as fast as the Germans but not as slow as the American girls. One of them gave up after two minutes and spent the trip in the air conditioned van following the riders. Lame.


Here is some women preparing for a festival. We were so slow we missed the explanation of what it was but it only happens every six months and is very important. Yay for cultural insensitivity.


However, at the festival preparation I got to take a picture of this angry rabies dog.


Being adverse to the sun, Ruth had to go the extra mile for sun protection with this excellent biking costume.


Unfortunately,there is a certain point where the heat becomes too much and it feels like your blood has turned to maple syrup and each breath you take could be your last. I don’t know what the technical term for it is but it is either heatstroke or heart attack - something beginning with an h anyway. Here is a picture of me at that point. I think this is just before I started crying and my nose started running uncontrollably… The last thirty minutes became less a romp through the Balinese country side and more Amazing Race-esque test of endurance...


By the end of it, I was devastated but the ride was actually excellent and even though it was hard work, it was very beautiful and rewarding. I can now say I had met Ruth’s requirement for cultural interaction. Back to the pool everybody… AHH MY EYES! PUT YOUR SHIRT BACK ON!

--