Tentena to Palopo road, Sulawesi Island, Indonesia
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| It all started off so nicely |
It was like being part of a Top Gear Christmas special, except it wasn't faked and we were both cast and cameramen. A live version in fact, and enough of a drama that it's worthy of a blog in itself.
We'd been travelling down from the town of Tentena when we came across this scene, riding on a bus which almost predictably had left two hours late. We'd driven along steep windy hills, through roadworks, past little villages with white picket fences. Lucid green paddy fields lined both sides of the road at times as well as cocoa tree plantations, and people dried the freshly harvested grains and beans on tarpaulins in their front yards. The journey was all a bit slow but pleasant enough thanks to the scenery, until we reached a queue of traffic.
Something was up but we didn't know what. We could see the road turned to dirt ahead, and a lorry waiting to cross a bridge but nothing more. After fifteen minutes our bus moved on a few hundred metres to said bridge and the driver shouted something in Indonesian, after which everyone stood up and got off. We followed them, confused, and the bus drove on alone across the bridge. We then saw a sign and it made sense - the bridge had a fifteen tonne limit, and he didn't want the bus to end up in the drink below. Rene and I chuckled, this was a first!
However this was only the start of the story we discovered, as the other side the road had been ploughed up by builders who were preparing to build a new, stronger bridge. Two tracks lay in front - a temporary gravel one which was blocked by two broken down lorries, and an extremely muddy one which people were slowly attempting to make their way through, taking it in turns from both directions. Piles of steel for the bridge were dumped to one side, wooden shack houses lay to the other, and sixty or so people stood around watching the chaos that ensued. With our bus not able to pass along the muddy track, we had to wait for the lorries to be towed away so stood by the track watching and waiting.
Some very strange custom scooters came along with their loud exhausts coughing out clouds of smoke, whilst the bikers themselves all looked mean in denim with patches, and bandanas on their heads though were actually quite friendly - the 'Slankuters community' it said on their backs, whatever that meant. I say scooters, but they were weird monstrosities, some converted to sidecars, some more like racing cars, and one with two wheels on one side and six on the other. One was styled like an army tank, another had a barrel trailer behind. They looked totally and completely nuts - exactly like something Clarkson and co. would come up with on their show. They were very low to the ground which didn't bode well with the mud, and one by one went flat out into this track only to get stuck and need pushing and lifting out by their mates. It was hilarious, even to the guys themselves who were on some sort of roadtrip together.
It was now the turn of a couple of people carriers who bumped their way through with a bit of speed, slipping and sliding left to right before successfully passing without much trouble. Another car needed digging out by onlookers, before a pair of overloaded motorbikes tentatively passed way through, wobbling along the way. A couple of curious chickens were now pottering around, only adding to this scene of madness. A van roared through flat out hoping the momentum would help, rocking violently through the first ruts then slowing for the dodgiest part - we were convinced he was about to roll, he was leaning over that much. On a steep drop he edged forward, with two guys stupidly standing under the side that looked like it would roll onto, and one wheel briefly lifted off the ground a little before going back down. He was now stuck. Some guys went and got a rope and tied it to the top of the van, holding it like a tug-of-war rope to stop him tipping, and eventually he worked his way out and continued on.
The ruts were deep and slippery now and we'd waited quite a while. Despite the manpower available, and a shovel standing beside the road no-one had really bothered to help sort this mess and get traffic going. A couple of guys threw some small stones into the ruts but that was it. I was seeing the funny side of it all, but was a little annoyed that no-one was taking any responsibility, so for both a bit of fun and to try and encourage them to get off their lazy backsides and help, I got stuck in.
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I picked up a couple of largish rocks and placed them in a rut, then grabbed the shovel and dug for England trying to level out the ridges and ruts. The locals all found this hilarious as you might expect - it's funny enough for them to see a foreigner let alone one getting his hands dirty. After a few minutes another van decided to try and pass through, whilst at the same time another lorry turned up to tow away the broken down lorries. I looked at my hands to find I'd blistered off two pieces of skin - after all this time travelling my hardened rowing palms had now turned into soft girly hands it seemed!
The gravel track was finally clear. The bus worked it's way through and the other side everyone hopped back on, moving on past by a huge queue of traffic that had built up. I looked at the clock and realised two hours had passed, but finally we were on the way again, with a grin on our faces and a story to tell.
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| Getting stuck in! |
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| Custom scootercar |
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| Get out and walk |
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| Crazy scootercars |
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| It almost rolled |
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