Date: Date:Wed, 21 Sep2005
To: touring@phred.org
From: “Michael Ayers”<mailto:michael@terminalia.org>
Subject: Gondwana -Transcendental Life in Timor Leste
Botarde Phreds,
Wow, I should have stayed longer.
Tonight I’m back in Darwinafter a too-short tour around the world’s youngest nation, Timor Leste.
Perhaps another brief geography/history note is in order here. The island of Timor has a fairly linear east-west orientation, with a length of almost 500 km and a width of 50-100 km. It is located about 500 km north of Darwin, Aus., east of the Indonesian islands of Java and Flores, and a few hundred kms to the west of New Guinea. In contrast to nearby Java and Sumatra, which are volcanic, Timor was created by uplift processes as the (Gondwanan) Australian plate collided with the Asian plate. A significant range of limestone peaks runs down the center of the island, giving it a sense of size that is larger than reality. The climate is monsoonal, with extreme dry and wet seasons. Currently it is well into the dry season and almost all of the rivers of the island are dry. The weather was therefore quite nice, with sunshine, temperatures in the low 30s, and minimal wind.
The nation of Timor Leste (also known as Timor Loro’Sae in the local language, and until 02002 known to the English-speaking world as East Timor) has had a sad history, especially recently, but now that is hopefully all in the past for good. The birth of what would become modern Timor Leste occurred in the mid-16thcentury, when Portugal began its 450-year occupation of the eastern half of the island. This was mainly done to create an outpost to counter their Dutch rivals who had occupied the western half of Timor and most of the neighboring islands. However, the Portuguese did little for, or with, their possession over the centuries, neither building significant infrastructure on, nor sending large numbers of European immigrants to, the island. The two main exceptions being the Portuguese language, which is one of the official languages of modern TL and still understood by a small percentage of the population, and the Roman Catholic church, which has been a dominant cultural institution in TL for centuries. Interestingly, I was told that while almost the whole population strongly identifies themselves as Catholics, relatively few actually attend church services or observe other practices of that particular faith.
Skip forward now to the mid-01970’s, when a change of government in Lisbon led Portugal to free its occupied territories. The people of TL wished for, and expected, to become an independent nation, just as other Portuguese possessions, such as Angola and Mozambique had become. However, the regional power, Indonesia, had other ideas. In 01975, for apparently no other reason than a feeling that the whole archipelago should be ruled from Jakarta, regardless of any cultural or historical distinctions, the eastern half of Timor was forcibly annexed into the Indonesian state. The next 25 years were not an easy time for the people of TL. There was constant military presence, considerable oppression and violence, and various dubious measures were tried to control the population. I was told that during those years there were numerous “relocation programs” where farmers from the mountains were sent to live at the seashore, and their counterparts from the coast, who depended on fishing, were sent to live in the mountains. The apparent rational being that neither group would know how to take care of themselves in a different environment and would then be forced to depend on the occupying government for survival. There was some significant infrastructure development during this period, such as road building and construction of numerous civic buildings, but this was viewed by some as being done primarily to facilitate the military’s control over the territory.
Things took a brief, but dramatic, turn for the worse in the late 90’s when the Soeharto government ended in Jakarta. The new Indonesian president, under considerable international pressure, agreed to allow a referendum on autonomy for TL to be held. The result was an overwhelming 80% of the ballots cast calling for full independence. For no other apparent reason than a feeling of the bitterness following this rejection, the Indonesian military, together with its relatively small number of local allies, went on a bloody, destructive rampage. Many people were killed, and many others from cities and villages alike fled with their children to hide in the bush for weeks or months to escape the violence.Out of a twisted sense of spite, the military burnt or otherwise destroyed many of the buildings built since the occupation began. A large fraction of the population became refugees, and many necessary institutions throughout the country were lost.
After the damage had already been done, the world finally came to the aid of TL and the UN sent in an international peacekeeping force. Soldiers and aid workers from various NGOs poured into the country. Eventually, the situation stabilized, and after a brief period of UN control of the country, and 450 years of rule from abroad, independence finally came in 02002, with the country taking the name of Timor Leste. Most of the soldiers are gone now, though people from the NGO’s are still frequently seen around the country.
The people of TL share a similar genetic heritage to those of the nearby islands of Indonesia and Melanesia, and seem very fit and quite healthy.In addition to the small number who can speak Portuguese, there is another case of multiple language craziness in TL. Like PNG, there are numerous local languages still spoken throughout the country. However, being a much smaller nation than PNG, there areonly a mere 36 of these in TL.Nevertheless, in a similar way to PNG, a new language has evolved, called Tetum, which is used as a second, and more common, official language. Tetum borrows many words from Portuguese (“Botarde”, is “Good Afternoon”) and other Southeast Asian languages. After my visit, I can add another term meaning “pale-looking outsider” that I have been called over the years, in this case the Tetum word “Malai”. This was shouted in a friendly way by most of the kids and many of the adults as I passed by, though some used the more accommodating “Hey Mistair!”
Once again, I was incredibly impressed by the friendliness, good spirit, and dignity of all of the people of TL. This was all the more amazing, considering how much suffering and disruptions they have endured over the years, especially recently. It is easy to see that the people are happy and proud to finally have achieved independence and liberty, and their outlook seemed rather positive, despite the general state of “poverty” that exists around the country.
It is really inconceivable to me that anyone could wish to do the people of this country any harm. Though I suppose that can be said of most or all of the pointless conflicts that occurred throughout history.
Ok, enough of all that, now here are some details of the tour through the country. I had 9 days for this section (fortunately, I had increased that from 8 a few weeks ago), which included 2 days for the transfer from/to Darwin and 7 to see the country. I wanted this to be sort of a vacation from my vacation, and as such to be a little lighter on the riding with a little more time off. My idea was to ride east from the capital, Dili, located on the north coast, to the eastern end of the island, then return along the south coast, before crossing the mountains back to Dili. That would let me see about 75% of the accessible parts of the country. I hoped to be able to do this with 4 days of riding and 3 days for rest and sightseeing. However, I was not sure if that would work or not, since I had no really current information about the conditions along that route. There are currently no maps of TL available anywhere, and those of Indonesia have basically no detail on the eastern part of the island. The only reasonable map I could find was an image I downloaded from the UN Web site. It seemed to indicate that my plan would work, but I had essentially no information about the conditions of the roads, or the availability of services along the way, so I had no idea whether this would turn out to be the light ride that I desired, or not.
After the short flight from Darwin (Boooo!!) I arrived in Dili just after 8:00 AM. In contrast to Lae in PNG, the airport was a convenient 5 km from the city so after reassembling the bike, it was an easy ride into town. Dili is built on a flat, broad delta of a river, which was dry at the time, and is surrounded on three sides by some rather tall mountains. Consequently, the city is rather spread out and does not have an easily identifiable city center. With plenty of time available,I rode around the city for a while to check out the options available for a place to stay for the night. In the end I chose the only place I had been able to see on the Web before arrival, a small, and rather expensive, hotel on the waterfront where most of the guests seemed to be western NGO people, diplomats, or other Malai visitors. The rest of the day I spent walking around to get a feel for the city. Dili is atypical example of a chaotic, dusty, and architecturally plain capital city common around the world, but it was an interesting place to stroll around. However, I could not get a handle on exactly what parts of the city had been destroyed during the crisis in 01999.There were several shells of buildings around town, but I could not tell if they had been burned by the Indonesians or were just examples of vacant and decaying structures often seen in such cities.Obviously, much work had already been done to rebuild the city though little of that resulted in shiny new buildings but rather patching and reusing what was left of the old ones. This was the case all around the rest of the country as well.
On the first day of the ride,I left town heading east on a road that ran along the coast. I had read on the Web that this was a beautiful road, and was glad to find that this assessment is correct. It probably now occupies a spot on my all time favorite touring roads.Like all roads around TL this one is one lane, with little traffic, most of which consists of mini-busses, or the occasional NGO/UN-type 4wd. The terrain on this section was just right for my tastes, rolling and curving just enough between the ocean and the mountains to make things interesting. Another feature of the island that I appreciated on this ride was the great number of microclimates found throughout. The north coast is the drier side of the island, so much of this section was arid country with widely spaced white eucalyptus trees scattered over the landscape. However, there must have been seven or eight visibly different environments that the route passed through on this section. In the afternoon I reached the next town on the coast, Manatuto, where I found a basic restaurant to have a simple meal. There was not much else available in terms of food or supplies at the small shops in town, which turned out to be the case throughout most of the country (fortunately bottled water was widely available and inexpensive, but shops had little more other food than cans of warm soda, some candy, and occasionally packets of little cookies,) so I had a very light day in terms of food. While having lunch, I met a British videographer who had lived in or visited TL for many years, and was making a documentary, with his Timorean assistants, on UNICEF’s work in the country. He gave me some good information about the roads and towns ahead, but what he told me made me feel a little cautious about the route along the south coast. After a short ride further, I stopped for the day and slept at an empty beach where the water was warm, but the shore a little bit too rocky for comfort.
The second ride day was also fairly easy and very beautiful. After a short climb up to 500 meters, through another very different microclimate, I reached the second largest town in TL, Baucau, though I arrived a little too early in the day for my liking and I did not end up doing a good job of investigating the city. From what I could see as I rode around the city was only a marketplace and a small collection of other buildings. It did not bode well for the availability of supplies in the smaller cities as far as I could tell. However, I neglected to continue far enough to discover the main part of town, for when I continued east after my meal break, I found that the bulk of the city spills down the hillside towards the sea, and that there were more shops and services, as well as a decent hotel further down. After a continued nice ride for the rest of the day, I arrived near the eastern tip of the island at the little village of Com.
Com turned out to be probably the most idyllic spot I have visited on the tour so far, and I spent a rest day there the following day. Perhaps 300 people live in the village which sits on a quiet little cove beneath the hills with a nice beach and good swimming. There is a little tourist resort there, which was closed for a few days when I arrived, for some reason, so I stayed in one of the three guest houses, which turned out to be a rather pleasant, though very basic, place in any case. The people of Com live simple, but charmed lives and it was a pleasure to meet them. There was also a man from Brittany who is traveling around Asia on a “backpacker-style”trip staying there. He spoke excellent English and it was nice to exchange some tips about the country and the region. Also in town was an amiable Peace Corps volunteer from California, who had been in Com for over a year. She had learned to speak Tetum by this time and was a wealth of information about the town and the country. I spent the day walking through the surrounding hills looking for birds, and swimming in the sea.
Up next was the turn back towards Dili along the south coast. It did not take long to realize that the southern coast is considerably less user-friendly than the north. The next town was Los Palos, the only town at the east end. There was a small, bumpy road that was a short-cut between Com and Los Palos.Unfortunately, I negated its benefit by making a wrong way at an unmarked fork in the road and going about 15 km off the route. After realizing that mistake and back tracking, it was rather late in the day when I finally reached Los Palos. The town was a lot smaller than I hoped and there was not much food available in the market or shops there. The meal I bought at the only restaurant was tasty, but rather small as well, so I soon realized that this would be another light-food day. That was not a great situation, as the rest of the afternoon was the toughest part of the route on the island. On the way to the south coast the road crossed the central mountains. I had hoped that near the tip of the island they would not be very tall, and I suppose that they were not, but nevertheless there were a couple of steep climbs, one topping out at 750 m. That would not have been a big deal except that just past town the condition of the road changed from beautiful, smooth pavement to narrow, dusty, and rocky gravel. There was a road crew repairing the road, but I cannot honestly say that the repaired sections were much better, though there were no big rocks there. It took me about 5 hours to cover the 45 km through the mountains to the coast. I was desperately trying to reach the sea again so I could cool off a little and wash the dust off of me, but though it appeared on the map that the road should run right along the coast, it was actually quite a distance away. So, I gave up when it got too dark to go any further and found a nice spot to sleep in the now-thicker forest.
The next day was supposed tobe another rest day, but with the lack of progress the previous day I needed toride for a half day to reach the next town of Viqueque. The road was bad for a few more kms, but then finally flattened and smoothed out again. The route to Viqueue was tolerable for most of the way, though there were two bridges washed out that required walking across the rivers (including one of the few still flowing). The real problem was that there was no food available along the way. There were some shops where I could have bought sodas, but I had spent all of my small bills the day before, and had none to use that day (anything larger than $5 --TL uses $US as its currency—is fairly useless as the shopkeepers usually can’t make change. So it turned out to be another hungry day. Fortunately my fitness has improved by now and I’m more able to deal with that. Arriving in Viqueque in the early afternoon, I found that once again the town was quite a bit smaller than I expected.It took me quite a while of asking around before I located the one very basic place to stay in town and a place to get a reasonable meal. After a tiring couple of days it was nice to rest for the rest of the afternoon, even if it was a shorter break than I’d hoped for.
After Viqueque, there were two possible routes back to Dili. One was my original plan to head further west before turning north across the mountains. The other was to turn north right away and take the reportedly good road to Baucau, and then reverse the first day along the north coast back to Dili. The video-maker had led me to believe that the first option might be rather rough, and as I had fears that the road through the mountains would be in as bad of shape as the one out of Los Palos, I had already convinced myself to take the less desirable, but more well-known second choice, as I did not have a tremendous amount of time to play with if I were to avoid missing my flight back to Oz. However, I soon met a local man in the restaurant in Viqueque who changed my mind. He said that the road to the next town, Same (rhymes with Bombay—well, sort of), was flat and smooth with only two bridges out where the rivers were dry, and that the climb through the mountains back to Dili was not too high. It turned outthat he was half right.
After hearing his information, I chose to take a chance and follow the original route and I’m very glad I did. The next day I continued on to Same and, indeed it was rather easy going. It was nice along the way as the south coast, which receives a little more rain than the north was green and more tropical-looking than the rest of the country. I wanted to go straight through the entire distance of 110 km, or so, to have another half day off in the afternoon, so rode fairly briskly. I made sure to get some $1 bills the previous day, so I was able to buy drinks along the way—although there were fewer places to do so that day—which helped. However, I delayed myself a little by choosing to stop at a pretty beach along the way for a relaxing swim in the very warm waters of the Timor Sea (and was further slowed by the pesky thorns which pierced both of my tires as I hid the bike in the bushes). After the road left the beach it made the turn north and climbed to almost 500 m before reaching Same which made me a little later still. Same was a little larger, with more merchandise available in the shops, and the basic hotel I found was in a quiet part of town and served good food, so I enjoyed that town.
The last day was the last section back to Dili, and I expected it to be another half day of riding. Not quite so easy this time as well. For one thing, though the distance chart on the map I got from the UN said that Same to Dili was 81 km, it was actually 120. Where the extra 40 came from, I can’t say. There was also much more climbing than I expected. I had guessed that the main pass would be between 1,000 and 1,500 m, but it was actually at 1,815 m, another 1,330 m above the start at Same. There was also another 400-m climb and a few small ones. It was a really beautiful climb, however, with some spectacular mountain views and sections of the road lined by big rainforest trees. After all of that climbing was done I was expecting a fast descent back to sea level in Dili, but for whatever reason the road hung around the top of the mountains above town for a rather inordinate distance, despite many seemingly suitable places to make the descent. Finally, it did and I returned to the pricey hotel with all of the UN folks with just an hour of daylight left.
With a late flight back to Darwin the next day, I had a little more time left to explore the city. It was nice to relax and walk around now that I had successfully completed my plan and had become more acclimated to the country. This part of the tour only happened because I could not prove to the Aussie immigration authorities that I had an “incentive” to leave their country, and so could not get a 6-month visa. I’d like to thank the Australians for having such a clunky bureaucracy and pushing me in the direction of the pleasant country of Timor Leste. If anyone out there is looking for a unique place to visit with some spectacular cycling, give Timor some consideration.
Finally, a slightly related personal note. Way back when I was in the 5thgrade, our teacher, Mrs. Bush (not from Texas!) told our class to go to the map of the world, pick out a country and write a report on it. All of the other kids chose countries like Canada or Italy, but I chose Timor. Of course, I was promptly told “Don’t be silly, you can’t do that! Go choose another one.” Well, more than 30 years later, I think I can write that report now (maybe I just did!)
Up next I have a few more days riding in the Northern Territory before reaching the last section of the Australian Stage, the long trip down the west coast to Perth. There are a few more of those dreary 200-300 km sections without any towns ahead, and I will need to really haul it a bit to make my next transfer on time. I have to say I’m looking forward to putting the next few weeks behind me.
Obrigadu,
Mike
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The Tour of Gondwana
May 02005 - Oct 02007