|
The story is maybe a bit long, but no time to take things out.
Therefore the full release....
TOUR
D'INDONESIA -
STAGE 2 (From BANDUNG to CIREBON)
 Again, not much sleep. Although the start was planned early, it
were mainly the foreigner riders who were ready in full gear at
the scheduled time. I knew the locals would come later, but there
was no point in telling the riders; they were full of adrenaline.
I was introduced to the latest recruit of our team; Dayat, a
mechanic from Bali. 'Where did you find him?', I asked Matthijs.
'He is actually a cyclist but had to give up in the first stage
already, the poor guy.', Matthijs explained. Yes, that was sad for
the guy. 'Why did he drop out?' I wondered. 'Because his bike
broke down', continued Matthijs calmly, without realising that it
was not the most promising forecast to hire him for mechanic work.
While looking how he checked the wheels (hopefully checking die
inner toebes) he looked up to me and asked where the wheel
pump was. I looked at Matthijs who showed a denial impression.
'Great. Finally we have one who knows something about tubes, now
we don't have a pump to fill them up!' It sounded al too BuGils
for me. But he, ala, we had a victory already...
Now the real work would start. With our rider Andre Schultze in
the yellow jersey (Kompas published 4 pictures of him in full
BuGils gear!), we were the first car behind the peleton, closely
behind the jury, doctor and committee seniors, giving us an
optimal opportunity to supply and support our riders. I had the
two women in the backseats again. For the rest was the car was
fully loaded with mainly water bottles. I received the last
instructions from Matthijs, especially to listen carefully
to the tour radio. Whenever the tour marshal would call our team
name we would have to go around the caravan in full speed and
drive up to our cyclist to supply him water or whatever. A very
dangerous job, especially on the downhill kampung roads just in
between Bandung and Sumedang. Everything was understood, including
the trick to keep the bottle of water strongly in your hand while
handing over, so the rider can actually push himself up for some
meters. Strictly forbidden of course, but when it looks innocent
it is allowed. That sounded very Indonesian to me, but apparently
it is an internationally known habit.
The caravan was rolling. Thousands of people along the streets. A
parking guard dangerously risked his life to grab a fallen piton
from the long line of fast moving cars and bicycles. Policemen
were desperately trying to block side streets. After some 10
kilometers I realized that our driver, Zul, was listening to the
wrong channel! He had changed the frequency and was listening to
some religious discussion! 'I said so!', said the German girl.
'How can we ever know if they need water!', followed the Danish
emotionally. Zul frantically tried some other channels, but there
were 9999 potential stations to choose from. We ask for support
from a OC (organizing committee) car. They shouted to the open
windows: '725! 725!' I tried but it didn't work either. The OC car
now signed us to stop. Mind you, the speed of the caravan was
around 60 or 70 km an hour! Even before we stopped a guy opened my
door, shouting "OUT! OUT!'. I jumped out and he took my seat while
speeding of again. I turned around to the OC car. 'IN! IN!' , they
shouted. One kilometer further the problem was solved and I could
proceed in the BuGils car again.
 It was an amazingly dangerous adventure trying to keep up with the
peloton. All three of us were shouting at Zul non-stop. Not
the best thing to do to shout at an Indonesian, who really was
trying to do his best, but the tension was just too high.
Other team cars passed us in high speed whenever one of their team
cyclists was asking for water supplies. We received useful info
over the radio, like 'jalan di depan kaya ombak!' (the road
in front is like a wave) and 'hati hati, ada lobang di jalan,
sebelah kiri dan sebelah kanan!' (be careful, there are holes
in the road, both left and right!) . But most dangerous were the
cars and motors that, from opposite direction, tried to bypass the
halted traffic. I saw the first accident happen, a cloud of dust
in the distance, with cars jamming up around it. Coming closer I
saw a war zone of cyclists lying on the side of the road, their
faces in painful expressions. People were shouting for doctors.
One or two were trying to get up again, blood on the elbows and
knees. But a sudden 'Move on! Drive! You idiot!' from
the back seat made Zul probably realise, he would never marry a
Danish woman. More accidents. One after the other. The whole tour
was in chaos. The OC car got a flat tire just in front of us. The
ambulance and doctor car had already been moved to the back to
take care of the numerous victims and suddenly we were directly
behind the peloton, or, what was left of it. Chaos. More flat
tires. Team cars knew they could freely move forward without
permission, resulting in more dangerous situations. The team of
the Islamic University of Tehran was dangerously moving their car
in the middle of the peloton. Some cyclists starting shouting
angrily. Did I really think I had an opportunity to see and enjoy
some of my beloved Java inland? This for 7 more days?
Then, suddenly, around a corner of a steep mountain, the peloton
suddenly stopped. They refused to continue as it was just too
dangerous. The front riders had passed the cars of the race
director, jury and police, who were supposed to clean the streets
from traffic. The strike was initiated by a, you guessed it
already, an Irishman. Under the command of David McCann, who was
the national champion of Ireland and therefore was allowed to ride
in the green jersey, everything came, luckily, to a temporary
standstill. Exhausted riders shouted for water and quickly stocked
up food. Some 15 minutes later and some negotiating with the OC,
the moved on again.
In the final kilometers, our Dane Max had stomach problems and
couldn't keep up. He tried to find support by doing the 'give
me a bottle and push me trick', but poor Zul didn't get it.
Max was shouting with all the energy he had left in him: YOU F..
STUPID DRIVER! SPEED! GO! GO!' The Danish lady behind me started
hitting and kicking the back of my seat. Luckily for Zul that she
was sitting behind me and not him. He had the German
lady behind him, and she was pale and paralyzed. 'CEPAT!
CEPAT ZUL!', I shouted now as well, using my hands like
Indonesian policemen normally do, waving in a forward direction.
Zul was indeed losing speed and Max faced the risk of losing
connection with the peloton. So here I was, in a Kijang in West
Java in the following scene: We had big Max hanging on the left
side of the open window, bouncing the roof of the car shouting
'GO, YOU F...er! GO!' , there was me in front seat, trying to
push the dashboard forward shouting 'CEPAT CEPAT!' and one
hysteric (and another paralyzed) woman in the backseat, at this
stage shouting 'FASTER! YOU IDIOT! FASTER!' And what did Zul do in
all the confusion? He slowed down. The louder we shouted the more
he slowed down. He was now paralyzed as well. Max gave up and
angrily pushed himself away from the car. The Danish sweetheart
fell back in her seat in total disbelief, almost hyperventilating.
And I looked at Zul, who softly kept on repeating the words 'I
am sorry. I am sorry'. But Zul was right. It was just too
dangerous and Max was not even allowed to hang on in the first
place. I gave him a water. It was just not his day.
No need to say, that we did not win this race. In fact, we lost
our yellow jersey to Sergey Kudentsov a Russian from the
Greenfields team. I didn't care. I was happy to arrive in
Cirebon alive.
At the hotel one press guy whispers me more information about the
strike. 'It had nothing to do with the danger of the stage', he
said. 'in fact it was the police who had requested more money from
the OC to block the roads.' Wow... What other surprises would be
ahead of us? While I write this I feel to need to find some
relaxation. Get the stress out of my head. I heard they have a
pijit (massage) technique in Cirebon that can make you slim.
Even without a no cure-no pay guarantee, I will be happy to
try. I should ask Zul to join me, but I think he prefers to be
alone at the moment. I hope he will show up tomorrow for the 183
km to Purwokerto.....
Bartele
PRICE CONTEST: WHAT TO I TELL UWE THE GERMAN (see above
picture) WHILE LIFTING MY FINGER IN THE AIR?
As I am standing here at the reception of the
Hotel Sidodadi, being bitten by mosquitos, I do not have the time
to place all the responses and the find the most correct one.
Hopefully the next time. --B.
Some responses:
Hi Bart,
I think you're talking with Uwe about the inner tube....You're
talking about
'how to replace it' and your finger maybe express a kind of doubt
about the
procedure to follow..
So how to remove tube from tire? My technic is:
1. deflat the tire
2. push one bead of tire toward rim center.
3. put one tire lever under bead of tire and a second one 1cm
besides
4. pull them in order to lift bead off rim
Keep up the good work, N.
---------------------------
"In the times of Jan Raas and Zoetemelk they also drank
beers and the next day they they won the race just as easily" - J.
---------------------------
Tell him that we want our bicycles back! - P.
---------------------------
Laatste warnung mein Freund...no more urinating
in offenbare gebiete..!! - anonymous
-------------------------------------------------
In mein juengere Jaren was ik auch ein sehr guter radfahrer!
------------------------------------------------
Is there only one inner tube
per wheel" ? - CvS
---------------------------
Uwe .......... Don't whatever you do......... run over and
kill any cats !!!
Small children, chickens, goats .......... no problems....... but
DON'T kill
any cats !!!
If you do........... take off your Bugils T'Shirt and keep riding
to the
Airport, and don't stop ! - P.from Melbourne
----------------------------------
If the chili’s are giving you
problems this morning, you take a piece of toilet paper and ……
---------------
The Bugils budget is a bit limited, but you can have 1 bottle or
water per person per day, absolutely free !
-------------------
If you make Bugils No. 1 again, that’s it – you are off the team !
----------------
I only know one thing about bike riding, and that is
…umm.…err…..shit, I forgot !
------------
I don’t know what an inner toebe
is. You’ve got one back wheel left, make it last !
--------------
Remember, no
number 1 in populated areas! -R.T
--------------------
Of course you tell your cyclist leader how to
place the winner-chili next time instead of eating it; hothothot!
It's always a big pleasure to read about your
adventures. I like your humor and I know that it is a big work
to communicate all this in a well organized manner. You do this
work very good, thank you!
From Bali, Waly Hurlimann
--------
Now remember, no peeing!! -P.F.
------------
There is only
one God and that is beer. Aqua is for the infidels. -S.
-----------
---------
Yesterday's Edition-The Criterium:
http://www.bartele.com/newsletters/Aug27nl2006.htm
CAZBAR NEWS:
The action in Cazbar's new
upstairs Sports Cafe will continue with the 2006 - 2007 English
Premier League Football and Formula 1. Draught beer @happy hour
prices all day & night on Saturday & Sunday. Stay tuned for the
Sports Cafes Grand Opening on the 9th of September! Email
jasper@bugils.com for the
complete program. Open for breakfast from 7.00 am onwards.
BUGILS NEWS:
New every Monday in BuGils: Singles Night & Margarita Monday!
Jakarta’s first weekly event where singles can meet up. Free
margaritas for single Ladies All Night long! For all guests 50%
discount on draught beer 25% off for other drinks. Every Tuesday
Ladies Night! Beer, Wine, mixed drinks and softdrinks for free
till 21.00
Just received a call from Indonesia's Nr 1 Punk Rock band
SUPERMAN IS DEAD that they want to play in BuGils COMING
MONDAY. If you want updates, send an email to
jasper@bugils
EASTERN PROMISE NEWS:
Tomorrow night (Monday) in the garden in Eastern Promise will be a
performance of the most promising Rock Band from Indonesia:
SUPERMAN IS DEAD. More info:
lens@bugils.com
|
