The rumor was that the custom in Belawan would suck every Ringgit out of our pockets. Though the paperwork was swift, and we got receipts for the 200.000 that each of us had to pay. It was all done in 45 minutes. The trick is to smile so immensely that they do not want to ruin your jolly mood by suggesting a bribe. It sounds ridiculous, I know, but it works. Then it was off to the jungle.

Good news: The Indonesians have forgiven us the cartoons

We needed some retreat from the big city hullabaloo and found it in the rainforest near Bukit Lawang. Renata and Tobias wanted to stay for longer in the area while I – as I usually do – opted for a slower pace in the last half of the visa duration. So I left at dawn to check out the Trans Sumatran Highway. It doesn’t really remind much of a highway. It’s more like a second-class side road with a serious road sign problem. No wonder I got confused and did a wrong turn in a crossing. I still do not know where I was, but it was nice there.

In the rainforest we came across this exhibitionist orangutan mother. Drop me an email if you want her phone number.

I hoped to make it from Lake Toba to Bukittinggi in one day, but in the far-flung village of Rau I had to seek shelter from a massive rainstorm. It got dark. The rain would not stop, and I was stuck. However under the same straw roof was a cheerful Arabic language teacher named Idrus. The rain lasted long enough for us to have some laughs, and he invited me to stay in his humble home to dry my clothes, have a wash, have a good night rest, etc… The mud-spattered motorcycle was parked in their living room. He even drove me to a nearby eating place and refused to let me pay or share the bill. Islamic hospitality to a friend from Harstad, he said. What a nice guy!

Idrus and his family: What would happen if he or someone like him got stuck in bad weather somewhere in Norway?

The next day I crossed the Equator. From thereon the sun was always behind me. Bukittinggi was nothing to write home about, and I kept on moving south along the west coast. The next two days was as strenuous as the two before due to the astronomic number of hairpin corners and the trillion gear shifts (mostly between second and third). It was impossible to keep a steady pace. I didn’t expect any improvements as the map displayed an even thinner line south of Bengkulu. But indeed it was the best part of Sumatra – less traffic, much faster roads, more variation of scenery, inviting villages, lush forests and beautiful beaches. It all was like a great reward for the roads endured further north. The only annoyance was a wasp that got stuck up my right nostril. I had to use my Leatherman to remove it.

Jungle roads: Sometimes I take a break to enjoy watching cars stuck in the mud

Here is a sunshine story: In Ipuh - a village rarely visited by anybody - I stopped for breakfast at a food stall outside the local school. Four teachers came out to get me, and I had to be English teacher for a day. The kids charmed the hell out of me, and by the time I left everybody could sing “Får æ være sola di” by Randi Hansen.

The kids in Ipuh