The unexpected family adventure that reveals a completely different side of Bali

A cool breeze brushes my skin and ruffles my hair as I pedal past rice paddies behind my seven-year-old son, who sits on the back of a tandem bike with his arms wrapped tightly around our guide, Gusto.

Every now and then, he turns to check that I'm still following, briefly loosening his grip to flash me a thumbs-up to let me know he's OK. But the wide smile that spreads across his freckled face tells me he's loving every minute.

Making our way along the narrow lanes in the hills north of Ubud, we cycle through villages where women sweep outside their homes with brooms fashioned from coconut-palm sticks, while the scent of incense drifts from the Hindu temples we pass.

Small trucks whiz by intermittently, and at times we're forced to weave around colourful canang sari offerings placed in the middle of the road, as well as dogs dozing in the shade and chickens that roam freely through the village streets.

I'd joined a similar cycling tour on my first visit to the island more than a decade earlier, and when it came to planning our inaugural family trip there, I thought it would be a wonderful way to give Oliver a taste of the "real" Bali.

While the route has changed over the years, with growing traffic pushing operators further and further from Ubud, the essence of the experience remains the same.

Gusto, from Bali Eco Cycling, picks us up from our resort in Nusa Dua at dawn in a bid to beat the aforementioned traffic, using the drive to introduce us to Balinese life and traditions.

He shares that he grew up on a coffee farm in West Bali and has a son who is the same age as Oliver who is named Wayan, which means "eldest", because of a traditional birth-order naming system.

Before hopping on our bikes, we stop for breakfast at Lakeview Restaurant at Kintamani, where we gaze across the caldera to the jagged peak of Mount Batur.

The scarred black earth that cuts into the side of the volcano, left behind by its most recent eruption in 2000, makes for a striking backdrop as Gusto tells us about the catastrophic 1926 eruption, which destroyed the original lakeside village.

It's a geology lesson far more engaging than anything Oliver could have learned in a classroom.

Soon after setting off from the village of Kembang Merta to start the 20-kilometre downhill ride, we stop at a family compound, which is home to 22 people. At its centre is an open-sided temple with a ceremonial bed, where bodies are placed before they are buried or cremated.

There are also three separate kitchen huts with dirt floors and stone fireplaces - one for each woman in the family.

"If you don't like what your mum is cooking for dinner you can go into Aunty's kitchen or Grandma's kitchen," Gusto says.

Small red hibiscus buds, used to make tea, dry on a table outside, surrounded by small wooden hives housing stingless Trigona bees.

We squeeze the honeycomb and taste the honey within, which is distinctly more sour than that produced by honey bees.

At the rear of the house, we meet the family's pregnant pig, which survives on food scraps, and watch an elderly woman strip bamboo in preparation for weaving mats.

In the artistic village of Batuan, we stop to visit the moss-covered, Tomb Raider-esque Pura Puseh temple, which is guarded by two imposing statues at its entrance with curtains of hanging roots drooping over the intricate stone carvings.

We playfully squeeze through a tunnel carved into the trunk of a 300-year-old tree, emerging on the other side covered in ants.

Over lunch of watermelon juice and fragrant fish curry in the large, bamboo-framed pavilion at Mango Lango Lake Restaurant, Oliver records the morning's adventures in the exercise book he has been keeping throughout the trip.

I like to imagine him opening it again years from now and being transported back to this very special day - a day that, hopefully, helped nurture a curiosity about the world.

The writer travelled with assistance from Bali Eco Cycling