28.11.2022
54 km scootering in and around Dili
I was ready to roll! Finally flexible again. No more walking in the scorching heat! Before I headed off, however, I checked with hotel reception how much they charged for the room if I booked here. I had checked availability on booking.com already … They told me is was $ 30 as well if I booked it directly … even though the room rate sign on the desk stated $ 40 … So I said, I would think about it and let them know. I was already pretty sure I would keep the scooter and do day trips from Dili keeping the hotel as my base. But I wanted to have a drive first … see if I could cope with traffic and driving on the wrong side of the road.
However, when I was finally set to leave … I could not get the scooter on … What the heck … Nino had said the kickstand must be up … check … push the button while holding the break and turning the throttle … check … but nothing happened … I wiggled the key … in … out … wiggle wiggle … try again … nothing … there was something else to push by the key hole … oops now the key hole was closed … how the heck did it open again? … I tried everything … all the while sweating even more … damn … stupid …
In my dispair I had the glorious idea to WA Nino … I send him a photo of the keyhole begging for help … Immediately he messaged me to do a video call and he would guide me through … alright! … and then it was a matter of seconds and I had the engine running … I had closed the night safety … without even knowing such a thing existed … and needed the back of the key to open it again … then wiggle wiggle the key … pull the break, push the button, turn the throttle and it was humming like a bumble bee … Thank you, thank you, Nino! Bye! … Off I was!
By now it was around 13:00 or so and really hot. Nevertheless I wanted to make the most of it and decided to go to see the Cristo Rei Statue situated atop the peak of Cape Fatucama at the end of the Fatucama peninsula in the east of Dili … It was one of Timor Leste’s main tourist attractions. My first challenge was to find the right roads to get there. I had brought a mount to fix the mobile phone and GoPro on the handle bar of a bike, but unfortunately on my fancy scooter there was no handle bar to fix it to … everything was covered. Oh well, then I shall do it like in old times … check the map and then just follow the instincts …
There were many one way streets in the city, but some of those I had already walked this morning and remembered. It was not so complicated and traffic was not so bad … probably because of the holdiday … or maybe I was used to the chaotic West African traffic from last year and this usual Southeast Asian traffic could not really faze me either … after a few minutes I was already sure I had found my mode of transport for the next few days!
From my hotel it was some 8 km to the Cristo Rei of Dili – Christ the King of Dili – on top of the 100 m high peak at the end of the peninsula. It was a pleasant drive along the coast with a speed limit of 30 km/h. The road was good and I enjoyed the cool breeze of the ocean.
The Cristo was accessible from the car park at Cristo Rei Beach, on the south side of the cape, inside the Bay of Dili, via a 570-step concrete staircase shaded by trees. I had a look at the staircase and decided it was way too hot at midday and I would have to come back later to make that trek up there at a cooler time.
For now I turned around and drove a couple of kilometers back along the beach where I had seen a pretty restaurant. It was the Beachside Café with chairs and tables under a big tree right at the beach. Plenty foreigners were there … most of them did not look like tourists but rather like people working here and having the holiday off. I found a table right near the water and settled in.
The menu looked good, but I was not hungry … however … very thirsty! I ordered a Coconut and a Mango Juice and a Bintang all at once and then a Fruit Platter with yoghurt from the all-day Breakfast menu. The waiter looked at me – You are very thirsty!? You must be! I saw you walking in town this morning! – Yes, I am and yes, I was, but now I have a scooter! – Good! I will bring your order quickly! … I guess, Dili was more like a big village indeed …
Taking my time devouring the fruits and alternately drinking, I did some serious thinking about the next few days and more research. By now 2 of the tour operators I had Whatsapped before had answered with quotations for 2-3 day tours … every tour was calculated for 2 people … I basically would have to pay double … none of the suggested itinareries was less than US$ 1000 … I did not have to think twice if I wanted to keep my $ 20 a day scooter … it was for sure the most economical way to get around … Politely I messaged those tour agents my decision and apologized, thanking them for their efforts and wishing a happy national holiday.
Having that sorted and finished my plate and drinks, I got back on the bike driving towards my hotel – but passing it I continued straight south up into the mountains. I had not found any guide book for Timor Leste, not even a mentioning in one … other than a very outdated lonelyplanet from 2011 … the hard copy was selling for some $ 230 online … it was probably considered anique … Maybe lonelyplanet should step up their game …
I had however discovered a few very useful websites and blogs with handy information. Some of them pointed out Dare Memorial Museum & Café in the hills above Dili overlooking the city. I like great views … preferably with a cold drink in my hand … so this was my next destination.
The road got narrower as it left the hot city and started to climb up into forested mountains. It wound past small houses with flowering ornamental trees and it got some what cooler in the shade of huge trees lining the road. It was a maybe 30 min drive up and every now and then I stopped to check the map if I had not passed the viewpoint already. The road was well maintained, there were only a few spots which I had to navigate carefully because I was not yet so familiar with this scooter.
At one point I was directly at the google marker for the memorial, but I could not see anything … no sign … oh wait, there was one … Dare Memorial … it was supposed to be here … But I could not see anyting …there was a view … an absolutely amazing view … but there was supposed to be a Café as well …
I checked the satellite map … aahhh … it must be below the parking … but where was the entrance? Eventually I found a small staircase by the side of the parking space and as I went down and rounded the corner there it was … a beautiful terrace setting in a flowery garden with an stunning view.
Dare Memorial documented Timor Leste’s involvement in WW II including the Timorese who helped Australian troops before being left to face the repercussions from the Japanese once the Australians departed. The Australians conducted guerilla operations in Timor from 1942. During that time their success and survival depended on the support of the Timorese people. In acknowledgment to the people of Timor for their bravery and friendship in aiding them, a proposal was put forward to construct a monument in the hills beyond Dili which were home to the Australian soldiers during their time on Timor. Approval was granted and in 1969 the first memorial was officially inaugurated. In the interim years it had remained a constant reminder to all who saw it as proof of the strong and lasting links between the Australian military who served in Timor during World War II and the indigenous population of Timor.
The present day Dare Memorial Museum & Café was the result of the tireless and persistent efforts of independent Timor Leste’s first First Lady, Australian-born Kirsty Sword Gusmão, who succeeded in securing the support needed to establish the Dare Memorial Museum & Café and the Fatunaba Memorial Primary School near by.
I was all alone there today. I got a tiny Bintang … they actually had 250 ml cans here for $ 1.25 … and sat enjoying the awesome view and the beautiful garden surroundings. The view over the city way down below was breathtaking and it was peacefully quiet up here as well … and pleasantly cooler …
When I checked the map again I saw there was a geocache hidden on the way down to the city as well. Of course I had to find it! But before leaving I had to soak up the view a bit more and I needed a scooter selfie … I noticed my bike had only a very washed out, laminated license plate … it looked kind of dodgy … but during the next few days I realized that this was relatively normal around here …
Hoping the secret box was not in the middle of a village with people staring at me, I started the slow drive down the winding road. I maneuvered the tricky sections already much more confidently now … It was a few kilometers down before I had to turn off to drive another 2 km or so along a narrow village road. Children were waving at me, people in general were looking in awe and gave a friendly smile when I waved.
The coordinates for the cache were spot on and also the description … Luckily it was a few hundred meters away from any house … hidden in some kind of bunker which was formerly used as ammunition storage or such by the Portuguese military … The cache was supposed to be inside the first chamber. So I turned the flashlight of my mobile phone on … gritted my teeth and dedicatedly walked into the dark tunnel … not my favourite task … but I wanted to find this box! Some 5 m or so in was a door to the left with some kind of memorial or so in the chamber … or maybe somebody had just put some Christian statue there … I only saw it because I took a photo with the flash on.
A bunch of good sized Geckos got scared by my light and scooted off into hiding … they scared me as well a lot … but I did not budge … It would have been a different story if those had been spiders, though … nevermind … I wanted this cache … and there it was stuck in an old pipe … overruling my apprehension of dark tunnels and horror creatures I quickly plugged it out and walked back to the entrance to sign the log sheet.
Putting it back in its hiding place was an easy task, now I knew where to go and the Geckos were sure still in hiding … Nevertheless I did not daddle, but came quickly back out, got on the bike, turned around and was on my way again. But it was my first geocache in Timor Leste! Yeepee!
Reaching the hot city, I stopped at the first gas station. The tank had only been 2/3 full when I got the bike and I rather filled it up to be sure. My plan for tomorrow was slowly forming in my head while I was driving around. It took gasoline for $ 2.75 which was approx 2 l or so. Around here there was no self service at the gas station as we knew it from home … here it was full service … and I was grateful as I could not even get the seat up until the guys showed me the trick. Do not get me wrong, Nino had shown me … I had just forgotten …
From the gas station it was not far to Santa Cruz Cemetery, an important commemoration site for the Timorese due to The Santa Cruz Massacre – also known as the Dili Massacre – that happened there during the Indonesian occupation. It was the murder of at least 250 East Timorese pro-independence demonstrators on 12.11.1991 and was part of the East Timor genocide – the so-called pacification campaigns during the Indonesian invasion and occupation of East Timor which the majority of sources considered to constitute genocide, while other scholars disagreed on certain aspects of the definition. The atrocities of Santa Cruz were caught on camera and aired to the world bringing international attention to the Timorese struggle for independence. Commemorated as a public holiday in now independent Timor Leste the 12.11. was remembered by the East Timorese as one of the bloodiest days in their history.
I did not spent too long at the cemetery, there were not many walkways through the graves. I did not find the most important grave – that of Sebastião Gomes – who had been killed by Indonesian troops during a confrontation a couple of weeks before the memorable day – The Santa Cruz Massacre took place during the funeral procession to his grave.
By now it was late afternoon and the daily black rain clouds started to roll in. However, I wanted to climb up to the Cristo Rei … so I drove back all the way to Cristo Rei Beach and parked the bike. I had to take a photo of it in order to find it again in the maze of bikes parked there …
Climbing the staircase from Cristo Rei Beach to the statue I passed 14 stations, which symbolized the Stations of the Cross passed by Jesus Christ on his walk to Calvary or Golgotha on the day of his crucifixion. Not that I paid too much attention … I was so hot and sweating even more now … It was more humid than ever now … The dark rain clouds lingered over the mountains but did not seem to come down any time soon … the humididty was almost unbearable, though, and called for a releasing thunderstorm …
The 27.0-m-high colossal statue of Jesus Christ had been officially intended as a gift from the Indonesian Government to the people of Timor Timur, the then Indonesian province, to mark the 20th anniversary of its integration into Indonesia. The statue was unveiled in October 1996. A few days earlier, the Norwegian Nobel Committee had embarrassed the Indonesian government by awarding the Nobel Peace Prize for 1996 to Bishop Belo – for his labours on behalf of the East Timorese in pursuit of peace and reconciliation – and José Ramos-Horta – a founder and former member of the Revolutionary Front for an independent East Timor and then exiled spokesman for the East Timorese resistance during the years of the Indonesian occupation of East Timor 1975-1999 – for working towards a just and peaceful solution to the conflict in East Timor and to honour their sustained and self-sacrificing contributions for a small but oppressed people. Since Timor Leste regained independence in 2002, the statue had been not destroyed, but instead been preserved and was now re-presented as a tourist attraction.
Timorese argued that the statue belonged to Timor Leste, regardless of its originators and their purposes. It was the source of considerable native pride and as an iconic symbol of the country and its capital city of Dili it was now a haunt of locals – they used the numerous stairs to do their daily excersise – as well as being one of the country’s main tourist attractions. I was sure huffing and puffing like an old steam train on my way up and was totally exhaused as I reached the top …
The monument was also seen as a physical symbol of the figure of Christ, of suffering, and of the Catholic faith that was part of being East Timorese. It was gesturing with embracing arms oriented towards the west, which – as some have observed – was the direction of Jakarta …
The view from the top was great – back over the bay towards Dili in the south west, out over the transition between Ombai and Wetar Straits to Atauro Island in the north, and down to Jesus Backside Beach facing Wetar Strait in the east.
But I did not linger too much. Down the stairs was easier and faster than up. Briefly I contemplated if I should look for another cache hidden off the main trail up the other side of the mountain for another 300 m … naaahhh … I skipped it … way too hot and way to many people around on a holiday … no other foreigner either … But I did log the Earth Cache located at Cristo Rei Beach …
It was time to head back to the hotel. I parked the scooter and WA Nino that I was happy and would keep it until Thursday evening. He said no problem and I should just pay when he picked up the bike then. Fine with me. Then I went to reception to pay 3 more nights for the hotel. The girl at reception did not really understand that much English, but she said I could only get 2 nights because it was booked … back and forth we discussed … I asked why and I could also move rooms if necessary … she did not know what I was talking about … So I did the easiest and searched on booking.com showing her the availability of 3 more nights for € 86 total and asked her if I can book it with her or if she wanted me to book it online … That she understood! … and all of a sudden it was no problem to pay 3 more nights for US$ 30 per night. I gave her the cash straight away and made her confirm again … Yes yes, no problem you stay in the room … easy as that …
By now I needed some food, but did not want to drive or walk too far, so I found a Chinese restaurant New 88 only a couple of blocks away and wandered there. I located it only with google navigation … I would have walked past it otherwise …. but I went in and found a table … I was the only customer … they had Carlsberg Beer, Fresh Orange Juice and I took Fried Noodles Seafood which was not bad at all. It came to $ 13.50 all together.
Next door was a big Chinese Supermarket and I bought some Bintang Beer and Sprite – to fix a Shandy … I was still fighting dehydration … Outside there was a small vegetable market. I was fascinated by the produce there. I found the flowers and leaves I had last night for dinner … but again nobody could tell me what it was. I would have to do more research on that … Putting the photo into plantnet app did not help anything … but it sparked mighty funny comments by my friends on facebook as it showed Nightjasmin as the result …
Digging deeper I tried another photo in the plantnet app and sure enough Papaya showed up … and more research confirmed that Papaya flowers were typically used in Indonesian and Timorese cuisine. Papaya plants occured in one of 3 sexual forms – male, female and hermaphrodite. Male flowers did not have an ovary and therefore did not produce fruit. Instead the male papaya flowers contained stamens bearing pollen that could pollinate a papaya flower with an ovary, causing it to produce a fruit. Male flowers were noticeably different from those of other papaya types as they displayed large numbers of flowers on branched stalks – exactly what I saw in the market. As a result – as the flowers of the male papaya plant did not mature into fruit – it was these flowers and flower buds that were generally used in cooking!
Of course there was much more offered than only Papaya flowers … meterlong beans, tomatoes, potatoes, all kinds of different gourds … and Betel Nut – obviously it was also popular in East Timor. I knew those from India where they were usually sold in ready-to-chew little pepper leaf parcles … here they were apparently prepared by boiling, drying, slicing and then put on a sort of skewer to be sold with packets of the pepper leaves seperate. Betel was a mildly narcotic nut that came from the Betel Palm – Areca Catechu. Used for at least 2500 years, it was popular in India, South Asia, China, the Pacific and Southeast Asia. The Betel Nut Palm was very tall and slender. It could grow up to 30 m tall with a trunk only 20 cm in diameter. Topped by a crown of long leaves an adult tree could produce up to 250 nuts per year. Farmers liked Betel Nut Palms because they were easy to grow and maintain. The trees could bear fruit after 5 years and nuts were quite valuable. A farmer could earn about 16 times more growing Betel than rice. Betel Nut did not grow on coral atolls and residents of these islands were totally dependent on larger islands for their Betel Nut supply.
Back at the hotel I followed my evening routine – relax, post some photos, chat on WA, shower … I had gotten lots of sun today – especially the arms and hands from riding the scooter, but also face and neck from this morning. So a lot of after sun lotion was in order before I started packing for tomorrow …
My plan was to take an over night bag and drive East all the way to Baucau. Since that was some 130 km away it was better to stay over night there to make it worth. That was a plan …
29.11.2022
158 km to and around Baucau
Before coming to Timor Leste I pondered if I should spent a couple of days on Atauro Island which came up in many reports as a must see. I really thought about it but eventually opted against it … I was not really a beach person … I was more of a road tripper …
Happiness is a road trip.
unknown
Wanting to get an early start, I was up early today. I had the Mangoes I bought yesterday for breakfast. While munching, I contemplated if I should take the overnight bag or not … It was some 130 km … but thinking about my Scoot West Africa adventure from earlier this year, I figured it would be better to stay overnight … 260 km return on a scooter was a bite … and my scooter here was considerably smaller than the one I had in West Africa … and I also wanted to be flexible and wanted to see something along the way …
I left with the essentials just after 08:00 and my first stop was the General Post Office which was not far from the hotel. They were supposed to open at 08:00 and I read somewhere in the worldwide web that they had postcards there! Let’s go and see! I parked the bike inside the gate and went in. It was 08:15 and while the front door was open everything else seemed still closed … there was a note on the door with some rules and regulations in what I thought was Portuguese and I figured it stated the opening hours but mentioned that there could be a 30 min flexibility due to the 40 hrs work week or something like that … Well, I hoped they would not come too late … Fortunately I only had to wait a few more minutes until a young woman arrived and a man opened the door to the actual post office from inside. And I had already spotted the rack with the post cards on the counter …
There was a philatelistic display as well … while the clerk got ready I already picked out my regular 11 postcards and checked out the stamps. There were not too many cards to choose from, but hey … they had postcards! The woman then had to write each motive down separately in her book by hand and in the mean time she gave me the folder with the stamps to look at. Funny it was – she had to look up how much was a stamp to Europe and had to ask me reassuringly if Germany was indeed in the European Union … Hahaha, yes it was! … It was $ 0.75 per postcard then.
The correct domination was out of stock, but that did not bother me at all. I preferred to put several stamps on the cards anyway … that made it more colourful. In the end I put $ 0.90 per card just because I liked the stamps. And I got a few pretty ones extra for souvenir. In total my purchase came to $ 22.95 and she packed it in a nice envelope. I guess, I had my work tonight cut out for me – write all those postcards to come back to the post office tomorrow to mail them!
By now it was just after 08:30 and I started the drive out East. I had already checked out the right way yesterday and it was very easy to head out of the city. At the roundabout next to my hotel I just had to turn east and then keep going. There was lots of traffic out of town today. I guess, rush hour after the holiday yesterday. But I did not have a problem.
Despite the traffic, I stopped at the first pretty church of the day to take a photo – It was the Igreja Coração de Jesus – the Church of the Heart of Jesus – a parish church in East Dili founded in 1965. The current church replaced the old building and was inaugurated in 2021.
Then the road wound up a mountain. Reaching the pass I had to pause at the road side to take a photo of the beautiful view over the city below. I was a sucker for beautiful views … to sit and have a beer or cocktail while enjoying the view would have been better, but this early in the morning … I was happy like it was.
It was really hot already this morning. Even the wind was not much cooler. Coming over the ridge the road decended to the coast again and then there was a perfectly straight and asphalted road leading east … I could drive a steady speed of 60-70 km/h … there was less traffic now … many motorbikes, some trucks and frequent colourful busses heading in either direction.
Passing small villages and settlements along the way I stopped every now and again for photos. Each village had their own church and of course I took plenty church photos along the way. Upon independence, Timor Leste had joined the Philippines to become the only 2 predominantly Roman Catholic states in Asia. According to a recent survey, 98 % of the population was Catholic, 1.2 % Protestant, 0.3 % Muslim, 0.08% Traditional, 0.05% Buddhist, 0.02% Hindu and 0.08% of other religions. The number of churches grew from 100 in 1974 to more than 800 in 1994, with church membership having grown considerably under Indonesian rule as Pancasila, Indonesia’s state ideology, required all citizens to believe in one God and did not recognize traditional beliefs. East Timorese animist belief systems did not fit with Indonesia’s constitutional monotheism, resulting in mass conversions to Christianity.
Some 35 km out of town I passed One-Dollar-Beach. It was apparently famous. For sure it looked good from above. One-Dollar-Beach was a public beach – long, white, sandy and clean – and also frequently deserted, yet popular with beach users at other times. The beach’s name dated back to about the start of this century, when East Timor was a United Nations protectorate. At that time, local people would charge visitors US$1 for every car arriving and parking at the beach. It was very much closed now and looked really somewhat decaying, unfortunately.
Shortly after, I took a break at Beahun Beach. I spotted some fishermen doing their work off shore and along the road side were several restaurant stalls. I really wanted to take some photos of the fishermen, but first I had some early lunch. It was approx 10:00 now … yeah, I could have some grilled fish and rice and one of those tiny Bintang Beers …
I picked one of the restaurants randomly and chose a fish. They had little parcels of rice delicately bundled in woven banana leaves or such. The food was actually really delicious. The fish was cold, but very well spiced and the rice was yellow. I liked it. And it was cheap with $ 4 in total.
Having fueled up, I wandered along the pebbled beach to watch the local fishermen going about their work in the shallows. The ocean around Timor Leste provided excellent fishing opportunities. Local people were adept with net, spear and trap. Timor Leste had great fishing potential, but the sector was underdeveloped.
The main fishing grounds, which were along the northern and southern coasts, provided a diversified range of fish and shellfish, most of which were for internal consumption. Oceanic fish was an important source of food, nutrition and income for coastal communities. I followed the fishermen to the next beach and watched them deal with their nets and catch.
They were friendly – most of them kitted out in salt-stained shirts with a well-worn mask and snorkel pushed high on their forehead. A sharp-looking knife was in one hand and a speargun in the other. They let me take photos proudly showing me their catch. Spearfishing was one of the oldest forms of fishing in the world, with records dating back 16 000 years. This simple yet skilful task required hours of practice to perfect. Artisanal fishing in this way was very low impact compared to industrial practices.
I love watching the fishermen step off their boats
and lay out their catch –
typically sardines, monkfish
and everything you’d find in Bouillabaisse.
Rachel Khoo
Back on the bike I kept driving east. The very well-maintained – or maybe very new – road wound along the coastline through lushy green mountains for a while. The views were extraordinairy and I often stopped for photos along the road side.
The freedom of the open road is seductive,
serendipitous and absolutely liberating.
Aaron Lauritsen
in 100 Days Drive: The Great North American Road Trip
The island of Timor was the largest of the Lesser Sunda Islands within the Malay archipelago and surrounded by the Ombai and Wetar Straits of the rougher Banda Sea in the north and the calmer Timor Sea in the south. The road let down to the coast again and fringed a narrow beach before it turned inland to follow the Northern Laclo River for a bit. Rice fields skirted the road now.
Around 11:00 I reached the small town of Manatuto lying beside the Northern Laclo River where it reached the Timor Sea. At the turn off and therefore the town entrance was an old statue of St. Anthony who had been of great importance to Manatuto since colonial times, serving as the namesake of the church and the local mountain. He was said to be of greater importance here than Jesus.
Manatuto had approx 3600 inhabitants and was located about half way from the capital on the way to Baucau. I took a detour through town which was also known for its salt production and abundance of tamarind. Of course I had to take a photo of the church – Igreja de Santo António de Manatuto – the Church of Santo António de Manatuto – dedicated to Saint Anthony of Lisbon. It stood near the coast and had been built in the colonial Portuguese style. Two rectangular towers framed the facade of the entrance.
On the way out of town I passed fields and fields with grazing Water Buffalo – Bubalus Bubalis – also called the Asian Water Buffalo. Some were happily lounging in a small mud puddle and were not the least bothered by me lingering to take photos.
An interesting fact of culture was, that justice in Timor Leste had traditionally been measured out in Water Buffaloes – Tara Bandu it was called – Water Buffalo justice – a treaty between the people, the ancestors and the environment that managed natural resources, social conflicts and spiritual relations at the same time. While it had never been institutionalized, the traditional way of meting out justice had remained an underpinning of village life on the impoverished half-island, even under 400 years of Portuguese rule. Tara Bandu might be historical, but local communities had only had the power to implement laws themselves since Timor Leste gained independence from Indonesia in 2002. Tara Bandu was easier and faster in rural areas for people who had no money and was mainly applied to people who were thieves, horse thieves or cattle rustlers. A goat theft for example cost one buffalo, although this varied from village to village.
Large salt flats lay just to the east of Manatuto town, I recognized them immediately as such. The Ministry of Tourism, Commerce and Industry of Timor Leste launched the first production of Timor Leste Salt in Manatuto district in 2011. The production was made by the Belak Salt Company and highlighted Manatuto as the first district to build an industry of Timorese Salt with a non-artisanal factory. There was not any work going on and I also did not see the factory, but the salt flats were interesting.
Behind the salt flats was a village with traditionally thatched houses. Uma Lulik – holy house – accommodating the ancestry soul, fireplace and elder’s bed – and Uma Tidor – house for sleep – containing living, sleeping and working space – usually composed a pair-house. A conical hut was regarded as the basic form of the house types adopted by the ethnic groups of Timor Leste.
More villages I passed and there were more churches to take photos of. Now the scenery changed to a more savanna-like type, it was drier with some umbrella acacia type trees. The sun was scorching now and I twisted the throttle. But I still took the time to take photos on the way … especially when traffic got held up by a herd of Water Buffalo.
For the next 30 km or so the road led through this dry region with many villages and finally crossed the Rio de Laleia via a very new bridge. There was much traffic – trucks, colorful busses, motorbikes … The road was very good – in fact I had not expected such a great road this far from the capital! I moved fast with a pretty constant 60-70 km/h.
Then I rolled through a hilly, lushy green area once more. A little shade every now and then! And I was on the look out to stop for a cold drink … a minimarket or street stall with a fridge would have done … but there were only small villages and the odd fruit stall … if I saw something remotely like a minimarket … I had flown by before I realized and could react … so in the end I stopped on a shaded spot on the roadside to stretch my legs … my bum was already asleep … and finished the last juice and water I had in my bag.
The last maybe 15 km of very straight road were traversing a very flat plateau. There was absolutely no shade …. just flat land and sun … fortunately, I could ride as fast as possible … I prefered riding smaller roads with more bends and more to see … but here was no other option and quite frankly … that road was so far from what I had expected … well, I was not sure what I had expected, to be honest … but it ran well … and had I known that, I might have thought about venturing even further east from Baucau …
Around 12:30 I reached the outskirts of Baucau, with approx 16 000 inhabitants the second-largest city in Timor Leste after Dili. Baucau was the 2nd place in East Timor where the Portuguese established a settlement. It developed into the colonial administrative center of the region. But in the times of Portuguese Timor, it was little more than an overgrown village and for part of those times was called Vila Salazar, after the Portuguese dictator António de Oliveira Salazar.
At the cross roads I chose the left turn off leading down a narrow country road to the old colonial village as I had checked for guesthouses and both options I had selected where in that area. My bum was hurting for sure now from the long drive – I would stay the night to explore the area a bit before heading back to Dili tomorrow. Thick afternoon rain clouds hung above the mountains already … and it was still a few kilometers down that narrow road before I reached Villa Salazar …
I had opted to check out Costa Guesthouse and searched at the Google maps marker but there was nothing … I circled a couple of times until a friendly local came to my rescue and pointed me down the road motioning to turn right there. Well, the guest house must be here somewhere … I could always ask somebody else again … but moving slowly I spotted the sign at the end of a narrow alley and headed down a very rough drive way … There it was! … The marker was off by a good 300 m which was a lot considering the area. The guesthouse looked open, but deserted. Nobody was around. It seemed nice, though and I settled on the bench in the court yard in front of reception to wait.
It was around 13:00 by now. Only a few minutes into my wait a lady appeared and greeted me with a big smile. She spoke limited English, but we got along and I ask for a room with a view. She showed me room #1, but the view was onto a rotting porch below. I had read somewhere in a blog that rooms #3 and #4 were supposed to have the best view and ask for #4. She nodded and went to get the key. Checking the balcony with a good 180° view over the coast far below, I took it for $ 30 for one night without any further ado.
Just as I settled on the balcony contemplating if I should go out to buy some juice and beer, because I did not have nearly enough to drink on the hot road today and felt dehydration hitting me already, the daily rains arrived. I guess in the mountains – and Baucau was some 336 m above the coast – they started earlier. No way was I going out in the rain, but I was sure it would stop soon. So in the mean time I downed the water that came with the room and then took my well deserved afternoon nap.
By 14:30 I woke up somewhat refreshed and the rains had stopped. I hopped on the scooter and first topped up gasoline at the gas station opposite the drive way – $ 2.75 for some 2 l. A scooter was definitely the most economical way to get around Timor Leste as a foreigner …
Much of the infrastructure of Baucau and the surrounding area was damaged or destroyed by pro-Indonesian militia during the violence that followed the referendum for independence in 1999. Nevertheless, in the old part of Baucau there survived a few relics from the Portuguese colonial era, such as large colonial houses, churches and public buildings. After I had stocked up on icetea at a minimarket, I drove around this part.
The St. Anthony Cathedral – Catedral de Santo Antonio de Baucau or just Baucau Cathedral – was located in the center of the Vila Salazar neighbourhood and served as the headquarters of the Roman Catholic Diocese of Baucau. Located on the front of the cathedral on the sides there were 2 images in white and blue tiles. The image on the left showed Mary and the right the patron saint of the cathedral, St. Anthony of Padua. The bell tower rose above the entrance portal.
One of the prettiest colonial style buildings was the Pousada de Baucau, a large pink hotel. It would have been my second – and only other choice for tonight, but it was at least $ 80 per night. I am a cheapskate … I preferred the simpler option. After all I had also paid and kept the hotel in Dili … so I actually had spent $ 60 for tonights accommodation … But it looked very nice … only the view was not as good as from my guesthouse …
The climate up here was tropical with relatively stable temperatures throughout the year. A wet season lasted usually from December to May throughout the country, slightly longer in the south and the interior due to the effect of a monsoon from Australia. The mountainous interior was considerably cooler than the coast.
Set on a breezy plateau overlooking the sea, Baucau had also a new town centre with bustling, sprawling markets and administrative buildings. I rode there as well. But as I reached it, the rains came back … grrr … Quickly I put the cover on the backpack to protect the camera and my shirt on. Heading back towards the old part, the rain stopped. Maybe it was only in the higher part of the town …
I liked the older centre better anyway, it had a much more sedate air with the colonial buildings, some restored, some not. This area was backed by steep limestone outcrops and shaded by large banyan trees and rustling palms.
Checking my offline map I found a small road leading down to the coast and a beach – that road was not even on google maps … so I decided to have a look. I was adventurous … It was a steep, but narrow road … very beautiful. Flowering trees everywhere, palm trees, a large colonial style school, huts and houses surrounded by fields and gardens … It was a beautiful drive. There was still a little drizzle but mainly it only came from the trees.
I paused several times for photos. There was not much traffic other than a few motorbikes. However it was obvious that minibusses also plied this route … in the settlements I passed, there were some of the colourful vans parked by the roadside waiting for their turn. So this was a proper road … only nobody from google had discovered it yet …
At the bottom of the hill by the beach was the small fishing village Uatabo. Not many people were around, but a few children. The first thing I saw was a cage with 2 monkeys inside at the village entrance by the road side. I think, they were Crab-Eating Macaques – Macaca Fascicularis – a species of Macaque with a long history alongside humans – alternately seen as an agricultural pest, a sacred animal and, more recently, the subject of medical experiments. Why they had them there, I would not know.
The shore near the village was lined with traditional canoe style outrigger boats with double skid stabilizers used for line fishing of small tuna and reef fish. Outrigger boats could range from small dugout canoes to large plank-built vessels and could also vary in their configuration from the ancestral double-hull to the double-outrigger vessels prevalent in islands of Southeast Asia. They were traditionally fitted with Austronesian sails, but in modern times are often fitted with petrol engines.
The rain clouds still hung over the mountains above the beach and the road deteriorated more and more as I proceeded along the shore. When a huge puddle basically blocked the road, I was not going to try to pass it, but rather turned around. I still had to get all the way back up to Baucau – which was not very far … only appprox 5 or 6 km … but steep – and if the rain came back, I was not sure if I would make it.
There is no such thing as bad weather.
John Ruskin.
But it was no problem – it did not rain anymore for now and I rode easily up the hill. Since I knew the road already I had plenty time to appreciate the scenery and the beautiful flowering trees which lined the road in many places. Some of them looked like Delonix Regia – in many tropical parts of the world it was grown as an ornamental tree and given the name Royal Poinciana, Flamboyant, Phoenix Flower, Flame of the Forest or Flame Tree. It was noted for its fern-like leaves and flamboyant display of orange-red flowers over summer.
Meditation does not mean you have to sit still.
Ride a motorbike.
Unknown
At the main road I made a quick stop to have a look at the municipal swimming pools which was located just below the road. It is said that a clear freshwater spring fed this large pool – and it would be a great place to enjoy a refreshing dip … it looked very much closed nowadays, unfortunately. Not that I would have wanted to take a dip, but … it was a beautiful place in a nice garden setting.
It was still mid-afternoon and the weather looked somewhat better now. Having had so much fun driving that little road to the beach, I looked for another option. Baucau was characterized by a steep slope and I had to guess if a road showing on the map was actually steep or not. However, I figured from what I had encountered so far, my next choice would be going uphill again. First I followed the main road leading further east for some 4 km or so. The views along the coast were dramatic. The mountains ahead had mystic clouds hanging on the slopes.
The mountain range was that of Gunung Matebeanfeto – with an elevation of 2376 m the 2nd highest mountain of Timor Leste – also called Matebian, Gunung Boica, Gunung Mata Bia, Gunung Matabai, Meme Malabia or Malobu. Its name implied Mountain of Souls or Mountain of the Dead. It was considered sacred because the spirits of the ancestors were said to live there. The mountain had 2 peaks – The Matebian Mane – Matebian of the Men – Asukai – and the lower Matebian Feto – Matebian of the Women – Tufurai – next to eachother. The massif formed one of those great inland cliffs which the locals call Fatu. Due to its isolated location, the mountain dominated this part of the island. The peaks of Matebian, with the entire area over 2000 m and the surrounding forest had been the last major resistance center of the FALINTIL – the Armed Forces for the National Liberation of East Timor – Forças Armadas da Libertação Nacional de Timor-Leste – in the end of the 1970s.
Searching for it, I found the junction – more looking like a driveway – and confidently headed off the main road. A narrow side road led through a rural area up towards the new part of Baucau. Approx 3 km of more or less deteriorated country road with many potholes and puddles. I was passing small huts made mostly of wood, clay and straw, but also brick houses were present. With their manicured little gardens and vegetable patches, many bushes bearing colorful flowers, palm trees, fruit trees and lots of others made the area almost a forest.
The few people I encountered were all friendly – first looking somewhat perplexed of seeing a foreigner on a scooter cruising there neighbourhood, then always smiling or waving, calling a friendly Bom dia! It was probably not too often they saw a crazy tourist this way. It was a very rural part of Baucau, but I loved every bit of the drive … However, I only stopped for photos once … I was concentrating on driving this road too hard … not only hoping the track would not end abruptly or be blocked in the middle of nowhere, but also that the rain would not kick in again before I reached the main town … I totally forgot the photos … Good thing I had the GoPro on …
Just before I reached the main road in the upper town – I could see it already up ahead – there was a huge … and I mean a huge … puddle blocking the entire road. I was not sure if I could pass this one with the scooter … So I stopped … a small truck in front of me maneuvered it without problems … I was pondered over it … There were some guys nearby who already laughed at me … I waved and motioned them if I could pass there … they shouted in their local language and motioned … yes yes, not problem … go go … I was not sure … and let another oncoming motorbike pass first watching carefully which path the driver took … maybe I could do it … I took a deep breath … rolled on and did not take the gas away until I reached the opposite bank of the puddle … phew! Done!
By now it was time for food! The little fish by the beach this morning had not been that filling. More importantly, though, I needed something to drink. Having checked online and when driving around, I had zoomed in on Restaurant Victoria in the old town by the main road. It was open and I parked the bike. Walking in, I directly saw it had been a good choice for sure – there was a big porch with a nice view over this part of town. I liked sitting outside.
And it was not all empty even though it was only around 16:00 by now – there was a group of foreigners just finishing up their lunch. I a table with a view and ordered 2 Fresh Watermelon Juice, a Bintang Beer, Fried Noodles and Fish Curry. Everything came quickly and was really good. I could not even finish all the Fish Curry … I had to leave almost half of it … what a shame … The bill came to $ 23.
While I had been eating I had already heard something happening in the center of the colonial part of town – there was music and announcements … I was not sure where it came from, but I wanted to go to the big supermarket near the Pausada anyway. As I passed the St. Anthony Cathedral I knew where it originated … there was something happening there. People in traditional clothing were lined up and some speeches were being held. I was not sure what it was all about and I also did not want to intrude, so I just observed a few minutes from the outside.
At the big supermarket I checked out everything. In Dili I had only visited Chinese Supermarkets or minimarkets. But this was the real deal and it was very Australian … not that I knew much about Australian supermarkets, but it was well stocked and organized with plenty international products. Timor Leste was one of the most oil-dependent countries in the world, where more than 90% of the government’s annual budget came from petroleum revenues – the nation was currently benefiting from the strategically important Bayu-Undan oil and gas field in the Timor Sea. However, it imported everything from computer hardware to bottled water. I just bought some beer and icetea here before I had a quick look at the local market just opposite and then returned to the guesthouse around 18:00.
I had not brought the laptop to write the journal today, but I had my work cut out for me … I had to write 11 postcards so I could drop them at the post office tomorrow. But first I sat on the balcony – after all I had chosen a room with a view – and watched the sunset while sipping my beer and chatting on whatsapp.
There was no WIFI in the guesthouse … at least I had not asked and it also did not show a network … but I still had my local data and did post some photos. Writing postcards did not involve internet, of course, but social media was the new postcard I guess … but I was old-fashioned and sent my traditional set of postcards from each country I visited to a selected number of people.
Today I slept early. But not before I had slathered my arms, hands and feet with sunscreen – I had a considerably bad sunburn from today … and the aftersun lotion was in my bag in Dili … So the sunscreen had to do … I planned on leaving by 07:00 tomorrow morning. I figured if I made it back to Dili by midday I could spend the afternoon with doing sightseeing in the capital. Since yesterday everything had been closed … the museum should be open tomorrow and the Tais Market …
