It was time to dare. We were warned about this road, but no one can really tell you what you can ride in the end. So we decided to lighten our bike and give it a try, ready to stop or turn around if necessary. It turns out, we could have thought this through a lot better, but so is life.

After we pimped our included breakfast of canned butter and buns with some of our jam we felt ready to go. The caretakers of the mansion turned hotel were nice enough to allow us to store our gear in their living room and just with the two of us and a backpack, we felt as prepared as we could have been.

The trip was downhill for as much of the 8 km trip as we managed to get down. The road was bad, fist sized rocks buried in dusty silt on a 20 degree angle. But the real deal breaker was when the road stared going a bit uphill again from a lower part of Tutuala maybe 2 km in: The bed of a mountain stream looks as much like a road as this. We made the call, asked a family to park our bike there and walk down. We forgot to take anything to secure our gear, so we took a leap of faith in them (nothing has been touched even 7 hrs later). Further, we left our hiking shoes with the rest of the gear, so we started walking in motorcycle boots …

It took us two and a half hours to get all the way down from the plateau to the water. The decision to leave the bike was definitively the right one. The “road” is for Hilluxs and trail bikes, or one could smash a local 125 with no care for tomorrow down there. What did we find at the end of the world? Three more Germans, waiting on the fishermen to be ferried over as well …

Knowing that the way we left our things would make it necessary to get out again today (estimated 3 hrs hike), we tried to communicate to the fisherman that we wanted to get picked up again by 1pm. This was made harder by the others who wanted to stay all day. Needs must, a $10 return ride in a fishermen’s boat is the only way to get to and from the uninhabited island.

Ah, so you may ask why do all that? Well, Jaco has the most beautiful beach I have been on in my life. And we had to share it with mere 3 other humans, which could be considered bad luck on a weekday. Plus, the marine life around here is supposed to be stunning as well – which was a bit hampered by our lack of gear. We got to borrow one set in the end and got to chase big fish in the pristine aquamarine water.

Our pick up came in the end, but maybe ¾ of an hour later than we would have hoped for, leaving us waiting desperate for shade on the beach. We used Nina’s sarong for some cover, which turned out to be a life saver.

Back on Timor proper we found a nun awaiting the return of her volunteers from the island. They had a ride, but she was unsure when they would go back, so we bit the bullet and started walking again – no lunch, one banana and 1.2 litres of water from the generous fishermen between us. Not the best of prerequisites for a 6 km hike climbing about 800m …

I started showing signs of a bad sunburn on my arms and legs, even though we used 30+ sunscreen at regular intervals. Only later that day I realised that this is another known side effect of the doxycycline we are using as malaria prophylaxis. I therefor walked covered up with Nina’s sarong as a sort of chador. About two thirds up came our much needed boost: The nun arrived with her wards in a Hillux, and we got a lift the last third of the way on the back of the truck.

After picking up our gear at 4:30 pm, getting my phone back that I forgot in our room that morning (the ladies of the house were soo lovely and brought it out first thing when we came back) it was time to get on the road once more with one final goal for the day: Find cheap accommodation. How cheap? Well, it also turned out that we were a bit low on cash. To have enough money for fuel back, we could not spend more than $20 US. We had heard of guest houses on the beach in Com, about 50 km from Tutuala on the direct route, or 80 km along “proper” roads.

I felt adventurous, so we stocked up on 50c instant noodles and bananas sold at a cock fight we passed and took the direct route. The unsealed track was a rollercoaster ride through smoothed ruts up to 50cm deep, but actually quite nice. Until we hit a small step in the landscape and the road went up a coral limestone cliff. Nina got off and I managed the 50m over jutting limestone of up to head sizes. We almost gave up at the second such step when I saw on the GPS that the road would turn “sealed” right around the corner. One last solo balance act later we were on top of the plateau on a good sealed track.

The last hurdle was the drop back down from the plateau to the coast. The road surface was 50-70% gone, but the beautiful village stretching the hill from the escarpment down to the sea made up for the bumpy ride. Villages in limestone cliffs, with springs and ancient trees growing over the rocks are just stunning.

We got to camp for $16 in the empty Com Beach Resort after waving our $20 note and putting on the sad puppy face. This place was bizarre. A proper resort style complex, with no staff or customers in sight. Just the buildings and furniture. I wonder who thought this would work out here …

In the evening we got to treat our sunburn (Nina’s back is burnt as well) with proper gel for burns and had a taste of the instant noodles. They didn’t taste too bad but something in them made the gum of your mouth hurt like a bruise you might get at a dentist’s…weird.