Central Kalimantan

What can you contribute to repay the hospitality of a village?

 Luckily I just missed peak tourist season. The people in Meringbang Jaya Village clearly remember the last tourist rush. Two Australian cyclists rode through in early 2025. The beauty of such isolation is that you are treated with special privilege.  I was hosted by Made Pagadau Tompou, but the entire village passed by to have their photos alongside a very ordinary New Zealand cyclist. The uniqueness of my visit elevated my status so I really tried to leave as much as I could to honour the extraordinary hospitality.​

A few days later I had asked permission to camp under the palms of a small mixed farm. Before I had set up camp one of the farm workers arrived with a bag of goodies. The farmer himself picked me up in his truck to wash in his bathroom. The owner  of the cafe next door arrived with a bunch of rambutan and a durian. After a long hot day the lychee-like freshness of rambutan is perfect. The only clue I missed was the insistence that I move my tent to a quieter  spot, the night was party night at the cafe, loud music all night. Fortunately 80 kilometres  of tough hill climbing induced total deafness.

My introduction to local fruit had started in a high mountain roadside store. I started with a fruit with the appearance of a small soft skinned orange with a large stone inside. A very refreshing taste but I still have not identified it. Durian I had been reluctant to try because of its reputation for evil  smell,  but the custard like texture and taste I found really pleasant.  Every store has a  large elevated  wooden platform which I learned that night is a  public sleeping  place, so my tent was replaced with an iron roof. The central mountains have a reliable pattern of torrential evening rain.

The transition from West to Central Kalimantan starts with a high mountain pass. It was late in the day, the gradient got too steep to ride. I. Arrived at the top just as darkness and the  daily  rain storm  arrived  to claim the worst campsite ever, crammed between a small prayer hut and the main road,  overlapping a rubbish  burn pile.

Next day in the  mountains proved one of my toughest days ever.  The terrain consisted  of steep conical hills in close succession. At maximum power  I could just get the load up, but totally heat cooked.  It ended up a very long day of bike pushing for a miserable  50 kilometres.

I am now following the southern Borneo Coast, much less isolated with easier terrain and good regular services including phone data for blogs .

My farm camp hostess and rambutan provider

Last resort mountain  bush camp

Derelict fish farms on the south coast delta

Border between West and Central Kalimantan

Village stilt houses

A sudden colour blast from a Chinese Temple. Mountain people are predominantly  Christian with Dayak tribal connectionss

As I came around the corner this guy was raising his tray on an uneven slope and literally toppled right in front of me. He is stemming the bush of diesel with a rag