A Very Young Country: Timor Leste
Timor smells different from Flores. It has that red dust scent with hints of gum, a dryness in the air, a scent more Australian than...
Tagged: flores
First Impressions…
It’s a big bike. A very big bike. A tall, chunky trail bike, so high my feet would barely touch the ground, its heavy-duty engine...
The Painted Lakes
We climbed through clouds and rain to reach the crater lakes at Kelimutu, Flores. Sacred to the local people, who believe that souls return to...
On the Up in Flores
It is a bright, sunny day and a beautiful ride. I’m starting to feel that the jinx that has befouled our overland mission from Bali...
A Tight Corner
Eating cold fried eggs and soggy white bread in the convent, under the scrutiny of a spreadeagled plastic Christ and an increasingly baleful Pope, Z...
The Great Hot Springs Disaster
The rhythms of life at the convent in Ruteng do not encourage sloth. The sisters start their day early, in their cells up the hill,...
We Stay With The Sisters
“Let me explain the rules,” says the young, smiley nun, jiggling the world’s most-indulged baby who’s balanced on her shoulder. “We close the gates at...
Sharks in the Land of the Dragons
After a challenging couple of weeks, to be lolling ‘twixt sun and shade on the roof of a dive boat, flying fish flitting across the...
Visas – A Horror Story
Now, I’m normally quite cautious about visas. I apply in the right town of the right country for them to be delivered cost-effectively and easily;...
Across Sumbawa on a Bike
After our bad break with the surfing, Z and I hunker down in our sterile boudoir to discuss what to do about Sumbawa, given we...