Free Wheeling

The Jakarta Post   |  Tue, 04/29/2008 3:23 PM  |  On The Edge

Jakarta’s main streets on a Sunday morning become the domain of bicycle riders.  Andrew Whitmarsh tries some pedal power.

I spread my arms wide like an eagle taking flight. My face breaks into a giant grin and I shout “Wheeeeeee!” A bus lumbers by, but I’m not worried as it’s confined to the slow lane. I, on the other hand, have the fast lane to myself; not just one lane, actually, but all three. I’m flying on two pedal-powered wheels, swerving, weaving, speeding and jumping. I feel like I must be doing something illegal but the cops just smile and wave as I pass.

This is Jl. Sudirman at its best. One of Jakarta’s arterial roads, it is normally so jam-packed with cars, trucks, buses and motorcycles that you couldn’t fit a five-hundred rupiah coin between them. But every Sunday morning, from 6 a.m. until 9 a.m., large sections of it are closed off by the police and given over to pedestrians, families and sportsmen and women.

There is no three-in-one here, which is good because my bicycle only seats one. Bumper-to-bumper traffic? No way. The nearest person in my lane is at least five hundred meters off. Want to pull a U-turn? No worries. I can flip one on a dime and I don’t have to go all the way to the next roundabout to do it. Time to take a break? No parking problems here as I can just slam on the breaks and park anywhere – anywhere!

I’m not alone though. Street kids set up a soccer game on the stretch of road in front of the World Trade Center using a half-deflated ball and their flip-flops as goal posts. A group of 30 swaggering high school students blocks two lanes as they shuffle down the road, eventually stopping and simply sitting down mid-lane as if staging a protest. Girls play badminton in front of the BCA building with gay abandon. Skaters in ripped jeans and Megadeath T-shirts roll by with freedom on their faces. A solitary runner in tiny shorts and a tank-top huffs and puffs through another mile.

Like a school of sleek fish, a large troop of spandex-clad men and women with fluorescent yellow in-line skates glides by.

Around the fountains at Plaza Indonesia and Monas park, kids and adults lounge around: splashing in the water, taking pictures, playing games, smoking, laughing, talking. Young couples sit comfortably close; an old man sits, contemplatively silent, watching children run in circles. It would all seem so normal if they weren’t doing this right in the middle of the road.

The cyclists look the happiest: nowhere in the city are there straight, unobstructed, safe roads on which people can pump their legs, burn some rubber and log some miles.

Three guys blast past on high-end racing bikes that weigh barely more than my helmet and cost as much as a new motorcycle. Heads down and legs churning, they are human bullets screaming toward their target. Moments later the ‘cool club’ pedals past: long-haired dudes leaning back on banana seats holding wide arcing handlebars, their bikes fitted out like low riding motorcycles. With over-sized tires, license plates, tassels and snazzy paint jobs, these guys know they are bad-ass. Then a boy on a funky tricycle goes by, showing off by performing stunts.

My friend joins me at 7:30 a.m. riding her brand new Giant road bike. She’s training for an upcoming triathlon and all geared up she certainly looks the part. On weekdays she’s forced to putter around local neighborhoods dodging cars and street vendor carts, but for three hours, once a week, she can really let it rip. She’s joined by small, medium and large bicycle clubs; all wear matching, brightly colored jerseys, fingerless gloves, streamlined helmets and cool sunglasses.

Although there is no speed limit, there is a police presence. While the male officers are stationed at strategic points along the route to direct traffic, the female officers get cool mountain bikes and the freedom to roll. Called Polwan, these ladies are the best things to happen to bicycles. Cruising cool with great uniforms, big smiles and signs mounted on their bikes announcing Polisi, they pedal about looking for bad guys, helping small children who’ve crashed their training wheels and letting foreigners take their pictures.

Whether you have a bicycle or not, set your alarm for a ridiculously early hour on Sunday and come check out the action. You can bring a Frisbee, your roller skates, a pair of jogging shoes or just your camera. No matter what, you are going to say ‘wow’.

Photographs by Melanie Wood

Special Extras:

On the sidewalk in front of Plaza Indonesia, you can check out Jakarta’s largest collection of old Dutch bicycles, which are parked in an endless row for display.
When you are finished riding, head to Monas park for some family fun.
If you haven’t gotten enough riding in by 9 a.m. – pull into the Gelora Bung Karno sports complex in Senayan where you can ride untroubled by vehicles.

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