A Country of the few people know that it exists, let alone where it lies. 1.17 million inhabitants, 15000km², formerly colonized by Portugal, currency is the US dollar, 60% of the population is below 16 years, a family has an average of 7 children. I threw in Dili from a little ballast and went on a lap of honor for Asia. Ehrenrunde course only genuine with flag. About the quiet, well-paved road of the north coast, we went towards the east to reach the very end of Timor and the present there Jaco Island. Supposedly it should be holy and you are not allowed to enter, but once the money comes into play, it is not a real place as sacred. Schlappe $ 10 cost the crossing (700m) in a small fishing boat, negotiate impossible alternatives none. Probably the most expensive boat trip in the world! For comparison: The ferry from Flores to Timor (350km, 20h) had the same price. Rewarded I was a lonely and uninhabited island beaches with a blinding whiteness that you are used only for commercials by toothpaste manufacturers and a sea with a Blauigkeit à la Harald Juhnke. My theory was logical: Where it's nice to be a crocodile feels comfortable. I held a small crocodile hunting training session and went on a search. Several hours lasted this, but she was unsuccessful. So I let me return from Fischerbot and struggled the 8km up the hill to the main road. This was partly so steep that I with motivation Crying in the style of a Bulgarian putter highly expressed the Bike Mount. When I on the largest lake in the country over, went where nothing and no one was, I heard in a break to drink water when preparing the bottle suddenly an eerie sound. It sounded like the breathing of a monster. Mindfully I followed the mysterious sound, which led me to a river. "Pretty idyllic", I thought, but then I spotted it: A 6m long saltwater crocodile, the unescorted into the river in front of my Geäug from the shore. The pulse shot up, my killer instinct was aroused and how to Komodo, I was ready to take the monster apart. This time no one was there to restrain me and my bloodlust. but then realized that I my magic stick, so had forgotten the bamboo rod on melee Jaco Iceland. Without this I was powerless and could the monster with a precisely calculated distance including safety factor λ Watch. Mainly it was not moving and that was his trick to which I should fall for, but I would not let me seduce and used my mind and the zoom of my camera. Then, when even showed up a second and a third Croc crept into the water from the opposite bank, I saw the overwhelming power of my enemy one, threw in the towel and went out of the dust. Whole 150m further led a questionable (Bridges -?) Structure consisting of two rusted I-beams, each of which was connected centrally with rusted bolts and in turn superimposed on a rickety wooden structure over the river. Just about that time I had not taken care of in static, but that this corresponded to the DIN 1072, I was able to exclude. Engineering Excessive thinking was asked and I realized that I was not in Germany but in East Timor. It was clear that the ruling stress the tolerable load will not exceed and I do not have as a crocodile feeding. In the next town, Lospalos, where I proudly divulged seeing Crocs, you told me that the three colleagues live there for years and have eaten a local and two tourists a few weeks ago, the "ichbewegmichnicht" apparently on the -trick have fallen and extra get close went to make their mobile phones Photos. I mean ... damn, because you want to do little holiday and then you'll nibbled by a Croc. Meanwhile, here are two things to do: 1. Use your zoom and 2. Make a few dry runs with your Selfiestick before using it to find out what benefits it can give you what the situation. From Lospalos it went south. The roads were incredibly poor. Partly ran Kids beside me when I descend, ran as the "street" is not more than 5 to 6 km / h allowed. My Offline Navigation Application showed a main road to the beach. "Beach is good," I thought, and chose this route. Fortunately, I am traveling by bike, because no other vehicle (other than a tank ... almost the same) would be passed through here. There was a thin path through the middle of the jungle, who stated as I later was also drawn on any other card. Soft humus as road, partly muddy, always were big trees across on the way, little light that came to the dense and tall trees, moist air, the symphony of cicadas orchestra, backed by the sound a few to boxing monkeys. Was there a clearing, it was usually a river that had to be traversed. Mostly you could then the path no longer find and had to go in search, to continue for the time being. Yes, it was a real adventure and the middle of this jungle, I met at a hut suddenly a couple of kids who had made rich booty. The smaller had shot three Grey Kuskuse from the trees with their slingshots in six hours hunting and most of the band had long hunted in three hours hunting with his spear a three-meter python. The mother came out of the hut and handed me a thick piece of freshly smoked Python in hand, I should even try. I am not allowed to ask twice and nibbled at this fine piece of meat. Slightly chewy, slightly wild music, but the typical smoky flavor, a total of a successful work of art. Given the good spice curry ketchup from Hela, a hearty potato salad, fresh bread and a cold draft beer ... well ... next time. Fortunately, came to this hut a second, last hut because it was late afternoon and I had no intention of driving through the jungle in the dark. So I stayed there, was allowed to sleep in a traditional house on stilts and even got dinner. Rice with some type of meat. One of the jungle people wanted to tell me by imitating the sounds to which animal it is, but really family came to me do not know this. I think it was Flughund what I ate there for dinner, a culinary delight. From the jungles out, on the south coast along the west and across the island back towards Dili. For this I again had to go out quite high, but that was pretty easy because I knew that it will be the last mountain in the next few weeks / months. Mount Ramelau, with 2963m the highest mountain in the country and the island. To be the sunrise above, you should start at 3:30 am at the "Base Camp", the last place at about 1900m, which I, as expected, failed. An hour late, it was up for lost time, so "sprinntete" I with my flashlight all alone in Stockdusteren this hill. The bill gave it with incredible three days lingering soreness ... no, Cycling keeps not very fit. In addition, it was up there too cold! It must in Nepal, have been at the foot of the Himalayas that I last felt so cold. And the rest, well, that was just amazing. I spent Relaxed four hours up and looked left, right and straight, but mainly back. Nepal, India, Myanmar, Thailand, Malaysia, Indonesia, Timor-Leste, which were good five and a half months Asia. Good five and a half months Asia. ... I have no words, I believe, an aviator wanted to bring me to Australia or something. The airport employees were simply bribed with donuts, so I did not have to pay the $ 65 fee for excess baggage, they had found a body balance. It was the last, very sweet proof of love of this land. Bye bye Timor, bye bye Asia, it was really dufte with you!

einige meiner vielen vielen Gastgeber
traditionelle Häuser
Jaco Island
Tha Crocs
<- DIN 1072 ? Eher nicht
Lospalos - Graffiti & Basketball, beste!
Welcome to the jungle
normale Straße im Süden Timors
um aufgebrezelte Girls zu watchen, am besten Sonntag morgens mal zur Kirche gehen
Air BnB wirbt mit außergewöhnlichen Übernachtungs- möglichkeiten? Ihr könnt einpacken, das hier ist for free!
Mount Ramelau - 2963m
Blog #23 ---->