Timor Leste, East of the country

I jumped on my bike in the morning and headed out for a trip to the Eastern most point of Timor Leste (Jaco Island) via the northern coastal roads. I had quite enjoyed riding amongst the chaos of Dili traffic, however I was more than a little excited to take the bike out on its first overseas road trip. The road snaked its way uphill and out of Dili, it was like riding into a different country all together, what I was greeted by was a scenic, winding coastal road with pristine beaches to the left and lush forest to the right. Although not in the best condition the road to Baucau was a pleasure to ride, dodging the potholes and oncoming buses around blind corners just made it feel like more of an adventure and added to the enjoyment of the ride. Heading into the countryside also made it evident that tourism in Timor Leste is still in its infancy, a western tourist is still quite a novelty and one traveling the country on a fully loaded BMW 1200 is something that draws everybody’s attention. The people in the Villages were extremely friendly, to the point that my arm was getting sore from waving back to everybody I passed. Even a short stop to get food would result in a crowd forming to see the Beemer and any local that could speak English would generally wave you over for the opportunity of a chat. The road changes from coastal to mountain passes and back again, passing through many beautiful little villages on the way to Baucau, Timor Leste’s second largest city. Surrounded by forest and with a definite Portuguese influence Baucau was a really interesting place to visit. The bustling markets on the main street is the hub for locals, the ride down to the beach is a few km but well worth it and to my surprise there was a very nice public swimming pool. We stayed at Melita guesthouse and had dinner at Amelia restaurant with a visit to the very upmarket Pousada resort for crème brule for desert, something I didn’t think I would be doing in Timor Leste.

Upon leaving Baucau I headed further East along the coastal road until I reached the very pretty resort town of Com, the beaches I passed on the way were stunning although numerous recent crocodile sightings and advice from locals not to take a dip ensured I stayed well away from the water. There were plenty of very nice guest houses to choose from in Com, however the rain had set in so after sheltering in a restaurant for lunch and meeting a couple travelling on motorcycle to Tutuala Beach I decided to join them for the trip. The road from Com to Tutuala was covered in pot holes or didn’t exist at all, they were certainly the worst roads I had encountered in Timor Leste so far, on the other hand it was just the type of riding I was looking forward to so I enjoyed every km. We arrived at Tutuala and had to decide whether or not to do the 8km downhill stretch (described in the lonely planet guide as “A rough, rocky track strictly for 4wd’s and a test of your wits”), we decided to give it a go. I was only a few km down the track before I was having serious doubts as to whether I would make it down let alone back up again, trying to manhandle a bike the size of the Beemer that weighed around 300kg fully loaded was absolutely exhausting. Somehow we eventually made it to the bottom of that god awful track without dropping the bike once, I got off drenched in sweat to sit on the glorious, flat ground of Tutuala beach and give my aching muscles a rest.

 The nightmare ride down the hill was worth it, we stayed at a locally run tourist village with views of the beach and across to Jaco island. I’d be lying if I said I was totally relaxed in this idyllic setting, lingering in the back of my mind was the thought of whether I’d make it back up the hill and if I didn’t make it what my options would be in this isolated pocket of Timor Leste. We spent the next morning enjoying the surroundings and in the early afternoon we attempted the hill, I approached it with trepidation, I lead the way, followed by my travel companions on a much smaller and lighter bike, ready to provide assistance if needed. In the end my concerns were unfounded, the Beemer lapped up the climb, even the steepest and most technical sections, although challenging we accomplished it with little incident. I was over the moon, not just for making it up the hill without breaking the bike or myself but more for the fact that this was the first real test of serious adventure riding that I had put the Beemer through and it passed with flying colours. We were soon back on the road heading to Baucau with the promise of a celebratory beer on arrival.

It was a short overnight stay in Baucau before heading south to the towns of Ossu and Loi Hunu, this was mountain country and was my first ride into the interior of Timor Leste. My first problem reared its head when I attempted to take money out at Baucau’s only ATM, it was out of cash and there was no other way to get money out in town, this is a common problem in Timor Leste with even the capital Dili often having no cash available in its ATM’s. I pushed on with the few dollars that I had left and had a thoroughly enjoyable ride to Loi Hunu, on the way I passed some Japanese caves from world war II that warranted some exploring. As I climbed into the mountains the higher altitude brought rain with it, as the heavens opened up streams of water flowed down the dirt roads, although I was soaked through and the roads were becoming a little treacherous, it didn’t dampen my spirits for the scenic, mountain ride. I had now seen much of the East so it was with a little disappointment that I headed back along the coastal road to Dili to prepare for a visit to the south of Timor Leste and a climb to the top of Mount Ramelau, the countries highest mountain.

Arrvival in Dili, Timor Leste

With my motorbike packed into a shipping container in Darwin I decided to fly into Timor Leste and explore the capital city Dili before the bikes arrival. The beauty of the Country was evident as the plane descended into the airport, Dili is a city bordered by ocean on one side and rugged, green mountain ranges on the other. The city is absolutely chaotic, I was greeted a constant stream of beeping traffic along the main road that seemingly pays no attention to any form of known road rules. The effect of the war is still evident in Dili, as with other towns and villages throughout Timor Leste, so too is the large divide between the wealthy and those living in poverty. Without my bike my main form of transport was by foot, this gave me the opportunity to explore some of the less visited and less well off areas of the city. Even in these areas the people were quite friendly, westerners walking through their neighbourhood was obviously still quite a novelty, it was a sobering sight to see the local people go about their everyday lives in the most basic of conditions and do it with a positive attitude.

I set about seeing the tourist sights of Dili, the Christ statue that sits atop its hill overlooking the city was a great walk, passing the local waterfront fruit markets, harbor and some idyllic beaches on the way. I’d heard the diving surrounding the island was some of the world’s best, so a few dives were definitely on the agenda, because of tides and a broken boat we dived off Dili rock which was interesting but certainly didn’t live up to the areas reputation. The snorkeling on the other hand was absolutely spectacular, the Christ statue back beach and Atauro Island both provided some of the best snorkeling I have ever experienced. I was lucky enough to bump into a few really nice ex pats who gave me a little local info over a few beers, thanks to these guys I discovered he food stalls along a lesser known beach that served flame grilled fish, skewered on a bamboo stick, with rice and chillie sauce, dubbed “fish on a stick”, this was a nightly tradition for myself and some other travelers that I was staying with. I also found out where the local cock fights were held, having never been to one it was quite the experience. The arena where the cocks fought was surrounded by punters all shouting to make bets or cheer their rooster on, it was an amazing atmosphere. I met a local that spoke quite good English who explained how it all worked, I even managed to put in a few bets and walk away with an extra 10 bucks. A few unintentional, classic quotes were spawned when explaining to other travelers how we found the place, the best goes to Shirley with “We just saw this guy walking down the street with his cock in his hand and decided to follow him”.

My bike was delayed by a week and the resulting 8 Days straight in Dilli was probably 4 days too many. To escape from Dili a group of us decided to take the $5 ferry to Atauro Island for 2 days, it was an exceptional few days on what can genuinely be described as an island paradise. The main resort, called “Barry’s” was booked out due to the long weekend so we stayed in some very modest huts that sat right on the beach. The attitude of the people here just seemed much friendlier than those living in the city of Dili, the pace of life was much slower and the locals seemed much happier. The Saturday markets were a must see, the stalls are sprawled along the beach and it was definitely worth soaking up the atmosphere sipping on a coconut juice. We walked to most places that we visited, the village of Villa was a really nice place to explore, with fishing boats lined up along its beach. We hired an outrigger canoe for $1.50 a day and attempted to catch fish for dinner, much to the amusement of the others we made it about 20 meters before flipping and then having to franticly swim after our possession as they almost floated away. Needless to say, we went to Barry’s restaurant for meals after that, this ended up being a highlight, not only was the food good and the beer cold but Barry was a really interesting guy to talk too, a genuine person that seemed to have the best interests of the local people in mind. After mastering the outrigger and managing to stay balanced we were able to use it to get us to some remarkable snorkeling locations, I think the others were a little disappointed that they were no longer able to have a laugh at our expense because of our poor canoeing skills. The Ferry only sails on a Saturday so we paid $10 to catch a ride back on a smallish fishing boat, these leave at 4am in the morning and take 2 ½ hours to get to Dili, it was a great experience as was watching the sunrise from the water. The only regret I have about Atauro was that I couldn’t stay longer and explore the mountains on the island, having said that my bike was due to arrive the next day and I was very keen to start exploring Timor Leste on Motorbike.

The next 2 days were spent travelling between the Toll office and the Customs office on the wharf, frustratingly on opposite sides of the city, to get my paperwork sorted before I could pick the bike up. When I was finally told I could take possession of the bike on the afternoon of the second day I was more than a little nervous, I had chosen to ship the bike without a crate and I was more than a little concerned that it may have been damaged in transit. In the end my fears were unwarranted, the guys at “”””” in Darwin did a great job tying the bike done and it arrived in perfect condition. After a 5 minute inspection from customs I reconnected the battery, Even though it was a simple task I seemed to have every worker within the Toll yard overseeing the process and providing advice. With the bike started I rode out of the Toll Yard and into the streets of Dili for the start of my international motorcycle adventure.