Malaysia-Indonesia-Malaysia

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My road : Nibong Tebal, Butterworth, Georgetown, on 2008-03-10, border with Indonesia, Belawan, Medan, Batubelin, Berastagi, Lingga, Kabanjahe, Merek, Tongging, Merek, Parapat, Porsea, Balige, Tarutong, Sarula, Sipirok, Padangsidimpuan, Penyabungan, Kotanopan, Rao, Lubuk Sikaping, Bonjol, Bukittinggi, Payakumbuh, Bangkinang, Pekanbaru, Minas, Duri, Dumai, border with Malaysia, Malacca, from 03-18 to 2008-04-2008.

After a few days in Nibong Tebal with my friend David, where I was able to prepare my bike and my bags, but also to start again to ride by bike, on March 10 I restart my route towards Penang and Georgetown, to spend here one week, discovering a pleasant city, by curious mixture of populations, cooking, but also of cultures and religions through its many temples, divers from each other. It's also a meeting with Richard, a guy from Holland, thinking that he was French by hearing his french language identical to mine. During this time, I can also do 2 run by bike to discover the island. It is also preparing for my future road, establishing a visa to Indonesia and Sumatra. A scheduled departure on March 16, but because the schedule is delay, I changed the crossing in 2 days later. By returning to the guest house, Jimmi the manager tells me that we'll celebrate my birthday here. And on March 17, while I am on my last day in Georgetown, in the company of Richard, leaving our dinner, Jimmi is telling me that he's looking for me, that my birthday cake waiting for me. We therefore return to the guest house, where Jimmi had invited the majority of the residents to share this moment, remember this wonderful day and these people.
This time, on March 18 I leave Malaysia to Sumatra, on the dock waiting boarding for my bike. The departure was doing a bit later than expected, for 6 hours of crossing the strait of Malacca, I am proud to find me in those waters. The weather goes bad slightly, big clouds threaten by a grey sky, that do not disturb the big cargo and containers ship to continue their commercial route.
Arriving in Sumatra is at the port of Belawan shortly after 7 hours of sailing, going fast to get back my bike so that we want I go to the formalities. Then I presented to the queue, entering on this country without much difficulty, imposing me a control of my bags on the X-rays. Without waiting I leave the harbor, loocking for the road of Medan, but no signs appear, in more with an infernal rush of vehicles, a hubbub, and a dust raised by their wheels or exhaust pipes. Finally, I find me on the axis that I want enough quickly, but that must have a constant eye so that nothing arrives at me, the traffic here is madness, and reckless drivers. I reach Medan shortly before nightfall, with a city that I rejected immediatly, awaiting the next day to leave it. I am taking the road to Berastagi, a small town in altitude. But after just 20 km, a damage occurs on my bike with the chain breaks. I have no choice, I must repair on the side of the road. Starting again, this time the traffic is crazy, it is a continuous procession of cars and buses, for more than 6 hours and 50 kilometers, which annoys me because these people don't take care to me at no time, especially since I must sometimes walk and push my bike. This will eventually weigh me, having tired of this road, but I would learn later there are 2 holiday days for Muslims, and they go away from Medan, and precisely in the same place as me. I reach Berastagi exhausted, remaining there one day, the time to review my bike. My route continues to the small village of Lingga, to discover typical houses of the region, making an meeting with an Indonesian who told me to be a journalist, which leads me to Kabanjahe to know me better, where I spend some time in his company and that of his friends, and taking my lunch with him at a restaurant which is more than local. I leave him and continue my route to Merek then Tongging, going to see on the road Sipiso Piso waterfall, throwing of 120 metres high, but also discovering from this place Toba lake, where I go to stay for the night, going down to Tongging by a road with bends, but the place is superb, finding the calm of the nature. At the morning, I take advantage of this place and lake, taking back the bends to go up, making several significant pauses to contemplate this site, then my route continues to Parapat. It is a route that makes me go through small towns, or even the nature and coffee plantations, taking break as my habits. But this day will be laborious and tedious, from my estimates, the distance on which I based is false, which should cover 30 km longer than I predicted. With that the road becomes again sinuous and rising, not being able any more, at the end of strength, asking me when it is going to finish. It soon after 7 hours of cycling, asking for water to a house that the boy tells me the end of this infernal suffering, telling me that starts a close descent to reach Parapat after 7 kilometers. Once reach, I immediately headed to a restaurant for swallow 2 copious plates of fried rice, and finding recovery. That evening, I meet another cyclist with Mirco, a French nearly 70 years old, spending a day together. As he leave a day before me, I stay here and go to visit Samosir Island in the middle of Toba Lake.
The next day, it's to me to take the road to Tarutong, for the first stage of more than 100 kilometers. This is a wake up at 5.10 am, as it were repeated every day that I ride, with a start at 6.30 am, by a rising road, but holding the rhythm and the cadence, until it becomes more easy to ride. When I get Balige, I am to the other extremity of the lake Toba, having gone up it on approximately 120 kilometres, a lake of a disproportionate size. The second stage, which leads me to Bukittinggi, is that of Sipirok, the most beautiful, at least in the first part until Sarula. The end of the course will spend difficult, physically and morally, because the Indonesians are constantly shouting over me in my transition, and then hear them laugh in my back, which eventually pester me and displease me, they have no apparent respect for what I do, quite the contrary. I have 3 stages before Bukittinggi, receiving always the same assault of the people, this time it was decided, Sumatra is in his end, opting to put an end to all this. On March 31, when I am at my last step, after leaving Lubuk Sikaping, I am about to cross the equator line, a new moment for me, this one to go from the northern hemisphere to the south. I know that the distance that separates me is about 15 kilometers, but without knowing whether at this point we mark his existence. Then I try to get information with local people, because this crossing is important for me. I eventually arrive at the village which seems to be the crossing point, could not find anything indicating, then beginning to make pictures of this place. It's going to eat something, that we pronounced the word "equator", telling me that I am not yet. And starting again, in fact a few kilometres away I arrive on a door spanning the road and showing what I am looking for, this time I am on the equator line, in step further and I'm into southern hemisphere. After 6 days, 5 stages and a half and covered 500 kilometers, I reach Bukittinggi tired, exhausted, meeting Mirco as soon as I arrived, to stay here 2 days together. Despite this, it is a pleasant city, in a particular surrounding with volcanoes who are around, specialy Merapi. A rest taken, we are left together, also him leaving Sumatra, the first day to make a step longer than what we saw on our maps going to the lead until nightfall, which has been long and exhausting, finding for the night stop of a simple place, sleeping in a wooden shed on a mattress on hoisted crates of coca cola, and by a constant noise of passing trucks on the road. On the second day, we are forced to stop in Bangkinang, Mirco is exhausted and after strength, to drive him to the hospital to retrieve. The next day, it's my turn to be taken by the stomach and intestines, this time spending the night in a luxury hotel, at least for Indonesia, with a discount price for what we do. Arriving in Dumai going to be painful, arguing hard, trying to get forces in myself, but could not find anything, else at the very end. Sumatra ends, which is returned in Malaysia and Malacca on April 8, to take rest, and forecast prepare my road, a complex trip starts with a multitude of islands before reaching Australia.