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STAGE 8 (From JEMBER to
BANYUWANGGI)
 Every
morning I would ask myself, what could go wrong this time?
Uwe had survived another day in the Tour de
Indonesia, and he still wasn't feeling any better. How could he?
He did not eat anything and the water he took was leaving his body
just as fast as it came in. Some other riders promised to drag him
up the top of the mountain, downhill it would be everybody on his
own.
But again there were troubles at the start. Matthijs, who had done
all the filming from the back of a motorbike during this tour, was
not allowed to do this anymore. Just one minute (I am not
exaggerating) before the start, the chief commissar asked Matthijs
to step down from his motor. He was suspicious that Matthijs would
feed the only -more dead than alive- rider from the BuGils Team.
What the man, a Malaysian from the international Cycling
organization, not knew, was that Matthijs was doing all the
advertising work for Dji Sam Soe, and that he is well connected
with the main sponsor. One telephone call was enough to get
Matthijs back on the motor again, just seconds before the start.
 The
climb was full of attacks, and the race was wide open for all
jerseys to be won. The downhill was dangerous and the road bad. On
the way down over a stretch of a few km, there where flat tires
everywhere. While we were speeding dangerously downhill in slalom,
we saw around every corner another rider standing on the roadside,
desperate look on his face and holding a wheel in his hand up in
the air. I counted 25, maybe 30 punctures, but luckily Uwe was not
one of them. Some of them, shouted at us, hoping
we would stop and help them, but Zul had his eyes
focused on the road and I was not planning to disturb him in this
crazy speed game downhill.
Uwe managed to reach Banyuwanggi and now had only one stage to go.
I wondered how he could continue another day without any food at
all. At his room he was reading a chemistry
book. 'What is that all about?', I asked him. 'Are you
experimenting with different drugs or something?' Uwe was too
tired to smile. He explained me that he was
studying for chemistry and that, when he is not cycling (he did
almost 100 races this year alone), he would help is father in
Germany, who owns a pharmacy. I believed him. Tonight he could
choose his own apple for the next day. It sounded good to him.
STAGE 9 (From BANYUWANGGI to
BALI )
A flat tire. The back wheel of our car was nearly empty and needed
to be repaired or filled up with air. But we had to catch the
ferry to Bali, and they were not going to wait. Zul had the
solution. He would change the wheel on the boat. Fine. Good boy.
Uwe was slowly feeling better, although he still couldn't eat
much. Two slices of toast bread and his famous apple, that was it.
But I knew it would be enough to get him to the finish in Kuta. A
begging old lady in rags was shuffling herself trough the mass of
riders and journalists. I followed her movements. She winked her
eye and gave me a friendly smile. Her teeth were all red from
something she was chewing on. The old woman used a plastic cup to
collect coins, but a few riders thought she wanted some coca cola
and they tried to fill up her cup. Indonesians bystanders
prevented this. 'Money! Its for money, mister!' they tried
to explain. The old lady just giggled and slowly shuffled on. The
cyclists apologized.
The ferry ride lasted about an hour and I was sure that Zul would
have the car repaired. But he hadn't. He had the car parked on the
ship so closely to a neighboring car, that the skinniest cyclist
could not even pass it. We had to wait until we were off the boat.
Time was ticking again, but luckily, others had problems as well,
giving us some time to fix it.
One more time Zul would surprise me. While the whole group, some
75 competitors, was half way Kuta, in high speed, something
strange happened. I was a bit dreaming away in the back of the
car, enjoying the Balinese scenery. I was relaxed, because we were
almost there. Suddenly, out of the blue, Zul pulled our car to the
right and - in full speed - chased his way to the peloton,
bypassing the team leader cars, the jury cars, the police cars and
two police motors and, at the head of the group, the chief
commissar his car. The chief commissar was standing, his head out
of his cars' sunroof. He looked to us in full shock. Nobody had
called for BuGils team car to come forward and certainly not our
rider. 'ZUL! What the f... are you doing! Where you going!',
I screamed. But Zul didn't say anything. He was hanging
over the wheel as if he was focused on something in the distance.
Now he was in confusion. He kept on speeding and was now next to
the main body of the 75 riders. Our rider Uwe looked to his right
and his tired and sweating face did not show any surprise. He had
seen enough surprises already in this tour. 'ZUL!' I
shouted again. The mechanic in the front seat now also started to
intervene. 'Zul!?', he asked quietly, in an almost sweet
voice. This was probably the best approach. We had experienced a
panic situation before (read stage 2), and the only way to slow
Zul down is to calm him down. Some riders in the peloton
started shouting at us. Zul was still hesitating and for a moment
I thought he wanted t o
go around them to take the lead of the peloton. Then, as if the
car was running out of petrol, he stuttered our car back to the
rear. I tried to sooth Zul. 'Ok now, Zul. Easy man.. Easy... A bit
to the left.... Ooooh kkee.... Disini ajaaa... Baguuuss....'.
While we fell back into our original position, the other team
leaders passed us, pointing to their forehead. Except for
the car in front of us. I noticed the mean grim of the driver.
Apparently he had indicated to Zul, in the Indonesian way by
waving his hand forward, that our cyclist had called for us. It
had been a mean, false alarm...
The Bali people were very disciplined along the roads. Thousands
of them were lined up, all the way to the finish next to Kuta
beach. It was a pleasant change from the dangerous situations that
we had in Java a few times. But on Bali the danger was the dogs.
At least 6 times the speeding peloton overrun a jaywalking street
dog. Uwe finished with the group in a mass sprint. An Indonesian
cyclist from Yogya won it, to the excitement of the organization
and the audience. The Tour de Indonesia had come to an end. The
BuGils Team will be back next year. I hope you enjoyed the tour
releases.
Bartele
 
The Criterium:
http://www.bartele.com/newsletters/Aug27nl2006.htm
Bandung-Cirebon:
http://www.bartele.com/newsletters/Aug28nl2006.htm
Cirebon-Purwokerto:
http://www.bartele.com/newsletters/Aug29nl2006.htm
Purwokerto-Solo:
http://www.bartele.com/newsletters/Aug30nl2006.htm
Solo-Madiun:
http://www.bartele.com/newsletters/Sept01nl2006.htm
Madiun-Malang, Malang-Jember:
http://www.bartele.com/newsletters/Sept02nl2006.htm
Tonight I am off to Shanghai. I am invited to a 'bar and
restaurant' survey trip. I will be happy to meet any reader of the
newsletter in Shanghai. Email me at
bartele@bugils.com
For more on the tour, visit:
http://www.djisamsoe.com/tdi2006/
Please note that BuGils has live music on Saturday.
Eastern Promise on Friday and Saturday. On Sunday Frozen
Margaritas and Bloody Mary's for half price in Cazbar.
For more info, email
jasper@bugils.com or
lens@bugils.com
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