So it was with some excitement that a brochure in the hotel lobby advertised "See Lovina by bike" - and my eyes lit up a bit more when it mentioned an "Extreme Mountainbiking" option. Booked by lunchtime!
I picked up my bike around 1pm which enabled me to see the local sights, then at 3pm met up with my guide, Putu, for the trip proper. This is when I started to get worried. There I was in my sandals, thin shorts and drink bottle. Putu shows up on a trick fully suspended mountain bike, cleated riding shoes, padded riding shorts and Camelbak! Worse, he's in his late 20s with a physique that would do a Tour de France rider proud. I wonder just how "extreme" this session is going to be.
Putu explains we're going to ride up into the rice paddies behind the town, going through lots of villages and stopping for lots of photos. I ask if there's any single track. He looks a bit puzzled, but then says we'll stay on quiet roads most of the time, but they're very rough. Fortunately my bike looks up to the task with disk brakes and good quality lockdown-capable front suspension. I'd noted before that the front brake was on the left lever, and made a mental note to apply both brakes progressively to avoid any heroics.
We set off and I'm reminded how clever the Indonesians are with their traffic lights.
Countdown timers! No anxiously waiting for the green to appear - if you know you've got 60 seconds to wait you've got time to change a CD or check your lippy without being blasted from behind when you miss a light change. Clever - give information to motorists and they know what to expect and can prepare accordingly. How about it, NZ traffic engineers?
As in Vietnam, motos are everywhere, and are put to amazing uses, whether carrying loads of harvested rice, taking the family for an outing, or just kids hooning about.
Fortunately he stops periodically to chat up his girlfriends or answer some text messages, which gives me a chance for a well-deserved breather.
As we ride through lots of little villages, there's inevitably a bunch of roosters in cages on the side of the road. Just as I saw in Jakarta, sadly cock fighting is also prevalent in Bali, where the birds have knives attached to their feet to inflict maximum damage. Men gather in a ring around the fighting birds, gambling on the result. The losing bird ends up in the cooking pot, the winner may live to fight another day.
The higher we go the more spectacular the terraced rice paddies.
We're at the stage now where the steeper bits are first gear granny and I'm having trouble keeping the front wheel on the ground. We've been riding for over two hours, and even though it's in the "coolth" of the afternoon it's still around 30 degrees and I've gone through nearly three litres of water.
Time for some downhill? You bet!
It's a blast going down and we're typically overtaking the motos, but I have to stop for more photos. This woman is carrying at least 20kg on her head, and Putu says they'll often carry much more.
It's dusk as we hit the lower foothills and I have to shed my sunglasses to see where I'm going. Unfortunately dusk is also the time the insects come out in droves, and I make a note to come a bit more prepared for cycling holidays in the future as I blink various carcasses from my eyeballs.
It's pitch black as we ride the main road back to Lovina, and I'm acutely aware my bike doesn't have lights - only Putu's bike in front has a flashing red light to the rear. I draft on his left so motos and motorists roaring up behind us are aware of our presence.
We get back at 7pm - four hours of solid riding and we've covered 45km. Putu's as fresh as when we started - I (the flabby old westerner) feel as though I've been through a ringer. He grins as he gives me a plate of Nasi Goreng for dinner. Here, he says, you'll need this. No shit!
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