Well call me a fish and send me up the river, for I’ve now been in East Timor a fortnight and don’t look like leaving anytime soon. Why?
Because while I’ve been waiting for Dot Cotton to arrive and then a parcel for my parents, I’ve sat on my hands and done bugger all. That means now I have the freedom to leave and head west to Indonesia I feel guilty for not seeing more of the place.
So then, what’s the plan? Well, tomorrow I’m going to holster up and ride the wrong way. East to be more precise. Which will take me along the coast and right to the very tip of a country that looks much better once you get out of the city and in to the sticks. The people there are friendlier too. So rather than rob you they’ll wave, and if last week’s experience is anything to go by – when four of us went for a joyride on scooters – even do hi-fives and cartwheels as I pass. And that’ll make me feel silly, but what can I do? March around like the UN ignoring everyone and waving my weapon in the air. I don’t think so, not when all I have for protection are the moves I learned at Boxercise.
Other than that there’s not much else to report. The malaria tablets are making me paranoid, the hostel owner’s stopped charging me for coffee and toast in a morning, and a GPS tracker from home has arrived that allows anyone with the password to pin me down to a pinpoint and follow me all the way home. Sounds pretty neat, but at the minute I’m not sure how to configure it so it still thinks I’m on an industrial estate near Stockport. I know Dili is pretty bad, but it’s not that bad.
But I’ll be glad to get some fresh air and clear my head. Meeting all these well-travelled backpackers in the hostel makes me realise what a fish out of water I am. First time to Asia and I’m riding through it on a moped that’s looked upon as pretty crap even by East Timorese standards. They all have new swanky bikes, bought we’re told by family members sending money back from England and other places in the EU. But I shouldn’t talk about Dot like that. The other day she climbed a mountain and passed roads even the Aussie military couldn’t conquer. For that she was given new tyres and oil and now she’s at her peak. And she needs to be. Eating curry for breakfast and dinner as well has added a bit of padding to my cladding and if you look at a picture that’s just been put up of me on facebook it looks quite clearly that I have tits. Boobs. Moobs. Whatever you want to call them I have them.
So that’s all that’s happened in East TImor. I’ve grown tits and become paranoid. Just wait til I get to Bangkok and have my tackle taken off.
Right, off I go around East Timor and then into Indonesia by the beginning of next week.