Madmen
An easy day in Dili. The highlight of the morning was meeting a French Canadian bloke in the City Café. He reminded me a bit of Michael Palin in his Monty Python prime. Totally mad. Wore a floppy sun hat and a gaudy bright blue shirt. He talked and talked and talked. The kind of guy who reassures you that, actually, no matter how depressed you feel, you actually doing OK. He talked of spending seven years teaching French in Vanuatu. These days, after an aborted attempt to enter Australia, he was forced into the T-shirt business. He runs his shop out of the departure lounge at Dili Airport. Apparently, yesterday, he met a guy who had flown into Dili, and was planning on departing on the next available flight. This guy said he was attempting to visit every country in the world in 80 days. Apparently, he couldn’t give a clear reason why.
I met my second weirdo of the day at Dili’s second dive shop, Freeflow. He had just popped in to buy a helmet, with attached video camera so as to better record his motorbike tour of the globe. Given he was Birmingham, it seemed a little late in the day to be having this idea. I guess he’s still got half the world to go. Not sure how he plans to get from New Zealand to South America, mind.
I am summoned to a meeting at the tourism ministry. It’s located in a big white building where the breeze blows through capacious lobby areas every sound echoes. It’s all seems very Third World, a feeling confirmed when Dan and I step into the tourism department’s actual office. The lights are off and what few staff there are are packing up boxes of personal belongings. There is at least one guy who appears to be doing some work, though he has just arrived and perhaps doesn’t know any better. He’s a Canadian guy living in Malaysia and now working on a WTO contract looking at environmental issues and sustainable tourism development, despite the fact that – right now – there doesn’t seem to be any tourism development. I guess that’s how these guys get their jobs, eh? They plan ahead.
Miguel, who I first met in Hong Kong last month, eventually appears and announces that the government is willing to sponsor me on a two day tour of the country and pay for a night in Hotel Timor. This is a result. We head over to the wall map and discuss possibilities. During the chat, Miguel explains that every building (bar one) that tourists see in Dili was built in the 1960s or 1970s. Everything this country had was razed by either the Japanese or the Indonesians.
Dan and I head down to the beach once more to watch a lovely sunset. The kids, as ever, are kicking around in the dirt. Dan snaps a gaggle of excited youngsters and I dish out a few slices of bread (hence the picture above).
Last night on the balcony is a melancholy affair. I’ve rather grown to love this place, especially since heading out east. Just having power and a cool cistern of water a few metres away feels like the height of luxury these days. It’s amazing how quickly one’s standards and expectations can shift.
