The answer to the question “What should you do if you’ve been ill for days and your knees, back and muscles are aching?” is rarely “Climb a volcano on a bike.” But I’ve never been to a volcano and I have a bike, so it was almost an inevitability. Richard was less keen on the volcano plan, but me having stupid ideas is a sign of being well again so he just went with it.

Since I’m still a bit weak we broke up the ascent as much as we could, doing some of the preliminary climbing on one day to a little homestay, and then the serious stuff the next day but over a much shorter distance. That day dawned to Richard now feeling off colour. He lets me know he is cold, hasn’t much energy and can’t eat anything. He does want coffee though, and thinks he can get away tactfully with just that and little else, because I was able to. The homestay host puts on the biggest breakfast spread we’ve been treated to so far. Good thing I’m recovering and need all the food I can get. Politeness forces an omelette into Richard, and I hoover up everything else.

The road up to the top of the volcano was in great condition, and mostly very quiet (for Indonesia,) but it’s ridiculously steep in places. There’s not much shade for the first half, but it gets a lot cooler as we go up. I’m surprised at just how many towns there are, especially near the top, but that means we don’t go short on supplies. Indonesian shops sell the most amazing re-hydration drink: The attractively named Pocari Sweat. It tastes like slightly salty lemonade and does wonders helping me climb a mountain in the heat.

The landscape is amazing in glimpses, but we’re going up the easiest way, not the scenic way. The fields up here are tobacco and coffee, and then at the very top loads of small plots full of shallot-type onions. They have a quick turnaround and are easy to grow in small fields. The coffee and tobacco are for bigger commercially owned land, but people can grow onions as a side hustle on their own small patches. We make it to the top, but Richard is hanging on by a thread and probably couldn’t have gone any further. After the climb there’s a welcome descent down to a lake formed by one of the volcano eruptions.  

Our homestay host was very worried about Richard, who looked terrible when we arrived and just slumps down without speaking. He is boiling, but we’ve climbed up to over 3,000 feet and the air is much cooler here than at sea level, so that problem is quickly solved. He doesn’t make it to dinner though, but our host keeps asking after him every time I step outside.

In the morning Richard’s a bit better and doesn’t want to have put in all the effort to get here without experiencing the volcano. I’m pleased for him but a bit jealous that he can recover so quickly when I was like the walking dead for a week. We set off from the crater lake to loop round the volcano to the other side where there is a lava field.

Cycling through the small villages, lush fields and the lake is really pleasant. It’s undulating, the views of both nearby Mount Abang and the Mount Batur volcano are great, and then the black rock starts to appear either side of us. After we crest some small rises in the road the land opens up to a field of lava stretching out towards the volcano. There are turn offs where we can climb up to viewing platforms, and trails for quad bike tours where we can ride on the lava field. It’s like travelling across a black moon, and we have it to ourselves. Sometimes cycling can be quite transactional: I give X (time+effort+pain+sweat) I receive Y (views+dopamine+achievement+downhill) but this is one of those once in a lifetime days that can’t really be priced up.

We head off the following day knowing we have a nasty climb out of the crater we’re in before we can start the big descent off the mountain. Because it makes up such a small part of the total day’s distance we’d overlooked this and not really sized it up. We approach what looks like a solid wall of rock and the air suddenly becomes cooler in the shadow of it. I’m a bit confused where the road goes. It goes up, cut into the side of the rock. It’s the steepest road I’ve ever seen and we don’t manage more than a few pedal turns before cycling becomes impossible.

It’s difficult to walk up with the heavy bikes, we keep slipping back down in places and it’s so steep that it takes an effort just to stand still and brace against the handlebars even with the brakes on. Richard’s bike is sliding back down too much for him to stop it and he has to let it go. A group of teenagers on mopeds stop, and between them they help push his bike up to a slightly flatter section. Loads of other people pull up their mopeds on the way up and ask if we’re okay, or if they can help. They tell us there’s much more to go, are we sure we’re okay? On the one hand it’s bad news, on the other knowing that people would be there to help if we asked is a safety net and it makes me feel better about it. After about half a mile there’s enough flat for a small village to be crammed in, and a woman offers us a place to sit down on her terrace. The views are incredible, and we’re pretty impressed with how high we’ve climbed already.  We’re about a third of the way up the section where we have to push the bikes, and the next one is nicely divided by another flat section with a wall we can lean the bikes against and sit down on.

Once the walking part is out of the way the climb is still tough to cycle up, but we’ve got the top in our sights and know we have the descent coming. That turns out to be almost un-rideable too though, because it’s precariously steep and our bikes are so heavy. It’s hairy and we have to stop often to cool the wheel rims down, which are scalding to the touch thanks to the pressure they’re under from the continuous braking. I chose this route down knowing it was steep, but thinking because it was the least forested and faced the ocean, it would have the best views. And it probably would have done, but it’s a very hazy day. We also discover where all of Bali’s plastic waste is when we stop at a couple of viewing points and look over the edge, which is pretty depressing.

The following day promises a couple of serious hills, which both turn out to be the perfect gradient to be challenging but thoroughly enjoyable and the ride shoots to near the top of our Favourite Ride chart. The first hill winds through corn fields with a perfect view of the ocean. The top bags us rice terraces that are flooded so they look as though they’re inset with mirrors reflecting the sky. It’s so beautiful it’s almost indescribable.

The final hill of the day winds round 180 degree corners through the jungle with an ocean view and hundreds of monkeys at the top. I really don’t like monkeys much so I hightail it down, and the road is quiet enough to really let the brakes out and use the whole side of the road round the corners. I’m concentrating on the road and its switchbacks, so I don’t notice that Richard isn’t behind me until I’m all the way down. He had got stuck behind a very slow truck and didn’t have the great time descending that I did.

It’s been a great day, but we’re sweaty and grimy and looking forward to a wash. We check into a guesthouse and are given iced tea and sit and watch a troop of monkeys go by outside, and then they drop the bomb that there is no running water right now, but it should be fixed soon. Communication about plumbing isn’t really happening in either English or Indonesian, but “soon” turns out to mean not in the next two hours, and we’re hungry so we accept we have to inflict ourselves smelling like we do on other people and go for something to eat. A restaurant down and across the road from the guesthouse doesn’t have water either. I feel more upbeat about that because the chances of someone fixing a water problem for a tiny guesthouse late in the afternoon are slim, but for an entire small town fairly likely. Richard hunts down some wet wipes and I buy a couple of gallons of water so we can at least get somewhat clean. The running water returns in the evening and means we don’t have to go to bed grubby.

We have one ride left to get us back to our starting point in Bali, and it’s a long day on the busy roads heading towards and then through a city. The amount of traffic is insane, it’s like a real life video game with sudden obstacles to avoid and quickly closing gaps to scoot through. We have some close calls, and while they’re partly due to cars abruptly and dangerously pulling out in front of us, they are made more dicey by my getting hacked off with them and not giving ground up.

We check into the same hotel as when we arrived in Bali. In 15 months of travelling and moving on most days, it’s a strange feeling to return to a place again. A pair of bike boxes are where we left them in the storage room, which removes one of the usual headaches preceding a flight. Being a worrier means that Richard insists on getting to the airport really early, so he sorts out a transfer way in advance and even takes a bike box out with him to show the taxi organiser how big the vehicle needs to be to fit them inside. The guy turns up in a small car and says the boxes will fit on the roof. He reassures us by saying that he straps surfboards to the roof all the time and it’s fine, which isn’t reassuring because surfboards aren’t really like bicycles in many, many ways. His buddy arrives round the corner as he’s securing one bike box to the roof and starts laughing. And then doubles over laughing when he sees there’s another box to go on top. The guy is so jovial and friendly though that it’s hard to feel stressed about it.

We’ve been on this small island for over 3 weeks and haven’t seen close to all it has to offer, which drives home how big the world is. Richard is really keen to return and see more of Indonesia at some point. Part of that might be because he’s tight and it’s cheap, but he’s thoroughly enjoyed the cycling on days when I really didn’t, although we both agree that the people here have been kind and wonderful on an almost Turkish scale. I was so ill here that my memories of that will be indelible. In some ways it’s the most confounding place I’ve ever been, and the most dazzling. It’s definitely been unforgettable.

A playlist for the ride: