‘Are we there yet?’ Our walk from the hostel to the restaurant that first night was in an entirely new world, but I was struggling to notice it. Rosa and Theo were both trying to help me shake off the sack I was carrying around with me – we had made it to Australia, we […]
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Our Yellow Brick Road – Part Five I woke up at 3.40 on our last day in East Timor – bloody fridge!! ‘Oh and one of the quirks of the house is that when the fridge gets to a certain temperature it makes a loud beeping noise – all you have to do is press
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The Timor Sea – Rosa’s blog I’ve never flown on a plane before. And I don’t plan to again. But I’ve done it now. After all our efforts, travelling for months without leaving the ground, all the way from England to East Timor, we’ve had to fly over that last little stretch of ocean to
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D-Day Day 16 Why break with tradition? We set off for the port straight after breakfast. Once we had checked if Mr Rogerio was there or not we would head to the Santos office, and in case you are lost or drifted off when we wrote about Santos – they are the company who charter
Our Yellow Brick Road – Part Four Day 11 ‘Anyone up for walking to the port?!’ No one was up for walking to the port but we all did it anyway. The port was on the way to the Resistance Museum where we hoped to learn more of the detail of what had happened during
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Our Yellow Brick Road – Part Three Day 7 (continued) After crossing the border the drive to Dili – East Timor’s capital – was relaxed, mellow even compared to our first seven hours – this driver slowed down on bends and for pedestrians, even for goats …and there were a lot of goats. The road
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East Timor, Timor-Leste, East East Edwin had already made us each a delicious banana pancake for breakfast before the bus came to collect us at 5.10 the next morning. We had done our 43rd full scale idiot check of the journey (which from experience involved two of us shaking out alll our bedding, checking every
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Our Yellow Brick Road – Part Two Day 4 We went to the port on that second morning in Kupang. I reckon personal connections are where the magic is and we needed to put in the hard, hot yards if we wanted to find ourselves a boat. Napa seemed to think that there might be
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Our Yellow Brick Road – Part One We arrived at the Dasi Guesthouse at 9.30 that next morning. It had a family area we could sit in, with free tea and coffee, so we dumped our rucksacks and got down to work. As we saw it we had eight options for getting across the Timor
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Kelimutu One glance at mine and Rosa’s backs and it was obvious that it didn’t make any sense to go on a 10 hour bus journey the next day. I shuddered when I thought about what hoiking our rucksacks onto our backs would be like… Time to change the plan. We talked to Pepeng and