Chapter 7 Los Palos to Jako Island and back to Dili ~ The Road Trip, Part 2

We set off early in the morning and found the local petrol station, went through the usual confusion of asking for the tank to be filled with Diesel and were not understood by anyone who worked in the place. They decided we needed 4 litres and put it in the car, took the money and left us to consider if that was enough. “Probably OK” I said, but suspected that I might regret that comment. Off we went, heading for a stop at Tutuala and then on to Walu Beach in order that we could get the boat over to Jako Island the following day. According to Google earth it’s 41 Kilometres to Tutuala and then only 8 kilometres to Walu Beach where we can stay the night at an “Eco” resort – sounds a simple enough plan? And it’s not like it’s that far.

Well, the road’s not that great, a little narrow and whilst there are a few small villages on the way there’s not a lot to look at, but it’s slow tiring work. I come to realise that the main problem with the roads here in Timor, is not so much the lack of maintenance, but it has more to do with the unavailability of any good rock to use in the road making process. The rocks here are predominately schist’s and contain a lot of crystal; quarts etc. and are not particularly good for road building as they have a tendency to shatter and splinter on impact. Helping to make that continual supply of dust (remember the dust?). It’s hot in the car and whilst we stop on the way to look at various sites, there is no respite from the heat, even with the air-conditioning on inside the car, its hard going. We eventually get to Tutuala, which is perched on top of a magnificent mountain / cliff side.  With such absolutely stunning views of the Ocean, stretching far below, I was immediately questioning why anyone would want to live in such difficult terrain. The village is situated right on top of the mountain and the surrounding land is far from arable. The fishing might be great out here, but it’s a long walk (8 Kilometres) to the Ocean

There’s a “Guest House here that we stopped to have a look at, but the children outside the guest house told us that the owner was asleep inside and that if we wanted to wait, he would wake up later. We decided that this may not be the most valuable way to spend the afternoon and headed on to the road that leads to Walu Beach.

Bruce had explained that we would need to put the Mystery Mu into 4 Wheel Drive – Low in order to navigate the road, which we joyfully did, knowing that it was only 8 Kilometres. Oh my Goodness, we literally crabbed across a rock infested slice through the jungle. I was fortunate as I really had to hang onto the steering wheel, Lisa and Alofa, were not as fortunate as we bounced, ducked, dived, scrambled down what is a cliff face towards the beach. It took us 45 minutes to get to the bottom!

Definitely time for a rum, and some relaxation time. We negotiated some sort of deal with the owners of the Eco Lodge that seemed to be fair. The conditions at the lodge are pretty basic. Water, sewage and Electricity are all non-existent, but they assured us that there was fresh fish for dinner. So we settled in for the night. There are individual cabins as well as a large communal dining room / lazing around room which we immediately settled into with drinks and snacks and discussed the road into the place, the driving skills required and the remoteness of it all.

Having eaten and drunk far too much, we headed off to our respective beds, for a some well-earned sleep. Regrettably we soon realised that we were sharing the accommodation with the insect population of Walu Beach as well as one or two Gecko’s that assisted in keeping us from getting the rest that we really needed.

                The following morning it was up to a refreshing salt water shower – how do you brush your teeth in that stuff? Breakfast consisted of fish, rice and bread with Tea and Coffee and then we were off to the long promised boat trip across the gap to Jako Island. I should point out that at this stage there are the five of us, three Australian volunteers and a Timorese Ambassador with his wife and two children staying at the Echo lodge, so, there are not a lot of people around, and of the 12 people at the Lodge we are the only ones going over to the Island this morning. We are definitely looking forward to some peace and quiet, some snorkeling and some lazing around in the sun. We find the boat and head across to Jako. The water is crystal clear going across the gap, but a little murky as we approach the Island as there has been some rain (Yes – we visited in the rainy season) . But soon enough we are on the beach contemplating the white sand, the snorkeling and the sleeping.

Whap, whap, whap – the sound of a helicopter breaks the silence.  We sit and watch – astounded – mouths agape, as a UN Helicopter comes over the Mountain, heading directly for us. We are even more gob smacked when it proceeds to land on the beach at Jako, disgorge about a dozen UN staff members’ (presumably police) onto the beach with their eski’s, mats and shade tent.

Dili and wondering where they are going. It seems that rest and recuperation are a key part of the mission’s logistics. I suppose I also feel a little cheated, as it was no mere drive in the park to get here and to suddenly realise that the majority of the UN staff have probably been here too, albeit at the end of a 45 minute helicopter ride, is a little disappointing. I wander off to contemplate the meaning of all this and collect shells. The island reminds me of Mystery Island in Vanuatu, in that it is obviously un-inhabited and probably not capable of supporting life as we know it. But it is so beautifully cleaned, pristine, and almost virginal. My thoughts are drawn back to the UN despoilers and I realise why the UN presence is not always a popular thing here in Timor, and I have first-hand knowledge why that would be so.  The people of Walu Beach and Tutuala rely on the tourist trade to a great deal. The tourists bring in enough money to put a few extra things on the family’s table, by staying at the Eco Lodge, buying supplies in the town, hiring the boatmen to take you across to the Island etc. however, when the UN fly everything they need (including themselves) straight into the most suitable spot on the beach for the day and then fly back out to their apartments in Dili, they bring nothing of any value with them.

After a day at Walu Beach and Jako Island we decide to do the “long haul back to Dili, our plan is simple enough – drive till we drop, so off we head and make reasonable time driving back as far as

Bacau an old Portuguese Market Place is the definite highlight in Bacau, however, by the time we get there, we are tired and decide to stay with the sisters just next to the Pousade Hotel. The following morning, we went in search of a petrol station and ended up getting on the wrong road at the wrong time. The traffic was backed up and there was some sot of commotion up ahead of us on the road. Sitting in the car, we are trying to ascertain why there are so many people around about and why the traffic isn’t moving, when a young Timorese girl steps up to the car and says “I am sorry for the delay, but we have a man dying on the road” We start to move and soon see that a man on a motor bike has collided with a large truck on a corner of the road. He is lying in the grass by the side of the road and a woman is clutching at him at wailing at the top of her voice. There seems to be about 200 hundred people that have appeared out of nowhere, just standing watching and a lone policeman is trying to get people to move back and the traffic to move on. We are all shocked into silence when we take in the scene. We quickly locate the Gas station, fill the car up and leave Bacau. We decide that there is a reason, why we have been shown this event, but can’t quite seem to put our finger on the reason why.

We drive back into Dili, stop at a cafe called Food’l’do and order coffee and muffins. It’s actually good to be back in Dili. In the past five days, I’ve learnt to stop complaining about Dili and the Power cuts, the dust, the rain and the bureaucracy, I’ve learnt that life is a lot harder out there in the districts and we have a lot to be thankful for.