Week 95 - Kupang, Rote (Indonesia)

We woke to the alarm and took a taxi to the Timor Leste (East Timor) consulate where we needed to apply for a visa application authorisation letter, confusingly, not the visa itself but a letter that would let us apply for a visa at the overland border crossing. We were the first to arrive at the consulate on the outskirts of town and after checking in, realised that they only had a handful of visitors each day. We collected our application forms and realised we’d come completely unprepared and didn’t have the necessary bank statements and flight confirmations. We ended up walking miles to the nearest internet cafe, possibly the slowest internet cafe in the whole of Asia before jumping in a bemo back to the consulate to get out applications in before the deadline. 

As we didn’t know what bemo would take us back to our hotel we ended up walking miles again to get to the ocean road where we finally took a bemo back to our room. As we still had plenty of chores to do, we ended up walking to Lavalon, a small bar on the water, to use the internet. Back in our room we made the most of having a flat screen TV and ended up having noodles in the room for dinner.

Another alarm woke us the following day. This time we jumped in a taxi to Tenoa Terminal where the ferries to Rote Island left from. We joined the surge of people pushing through the gates and bought tickets for the fast boat. Our allocated seats were right in front of the air con and it was so cold we ended up sitting up on deck in the sun for the short 2 hour trip to the island. As soon as we drew near it looked like paradise with the coast lined with stretches of white sand. 

Off the boat, we chartered a bemo along with two other guys heading to Nemberala, the only real tourist base on the island. The drive took a bumpy hour before we arrived at Anugerah Surf and Dive Resort where we’d booked a room. Nemberala itself is a small village with one main dusty road running parallel with a beautiful white sand beach hemmed in by a stretch of reef where the waves barrel in creating a world renowned surf break. There are a number of resorts lining the sand, all catering for surfers or divers and all ‘all inclusive’ and there are hardly any amenities in the village outside of the resorts. It seemed to be quite unusual for non-surfers, non-divers like us to turn up, I have no idea why, the island is a paradise, palm tree fringed white sand beaches, deserted coves, wonderfully friendly locals and windswept vistas.

Our resort was fantastic, set back from the beach, a row of maybe fifteen bungalows facing a small restaurant where we enjoyed delicious Indonesian food three times a day, with a lovely pool, palm trees, hammocks and puppies and the best thing was no one was snobby unlike if you go to a dive hostel and don’t dive, the surfers at our resort were welcoming (albeit confused how we’d come to be there). 

Rhys enjoying the pool at Anugeragh, Rote.

After lunch on our first day we went for a walk along the beach. The bay is very tidal and shallow and at low tide you can walk out just over a kilometre to where the reef is, dodging the frames that carpet the floor for growing seaweed. The seaweed is collected each day and dried on racks and tables that line the back of the beach. Surprisingly, there’s no smell, just piles of bright green, blue, purple and pink rubbery seaweed everywhere you look. We wandered back through the village, enjoying the quiet atmosphere. Although the resorts are very westernised and there are beautiful Australian holiday homes in prime locations, the village itself barely shows any impact of tourism, in fact the whole island doesn’t. It’s like a trickle of western people make their way here but there’s no interaction, they stay at all inclusive resorts and wander from the waves to the restaurant to bed.

Seaweed hung out to dry, Rote.

We spent the rest of the first afternoon on the beach, the tide was in so Rhys swam and when it started to go out again, he strolled along the beach and into the shallows helping the seaweed collectors and laughing at the pigs searching for a snack in the sand. We enjoyed a cold beer while watching the sunset then it was dinner time. As all the surfers were waking up at dawn, after a game of cards with Shar and Rachel, it was time for an early night.

Seaweed collectors on the beach by Anugerah, Rote.

We woke the next day to the sound of building works and birds chirping and flying about our roof where they seem to have set up home. We ate breakfast as people started trickling in from the beach from their morning surf. The sun was shining so we decided to rent a motorbike to explore the island. Turning right at the main road (and cursing at the bike that kept stalling, due, we think, to watered down petrol, a result of the current petrol shortage on the island) we headed across the football field.

The road was tarmac for the first couple of kilometres and became increasingly pot holed and cracked until it turned into a dirt track. We stopped at each cove we came across, sometimes pulling up right alongside the beach and other times driving down even smaller tracks, through gaps in tumbling down walls and palm trees to reach the sand. The tide was out and the beaches were stunning, beautiful stretches of white sand that ran for miles, completely deserted except for the odd fisherman or seaweed farmer. 

One of the many deserted, white beaches on Rote.

We continued past a troupe of monkeys swinging about in the mangroves to a concrete pier seemingly in the middle of nowhere. A short stop at a small seaweed village on an outcrop where they had a good giggle at the white people taking photos of their crop and their houses, before it was time to turn around and head back to reach the resort in time for lunch. The food was so good it seemed a crime to miss a meal. 

Seaweed farmer drying his crop in the sun, Rote.

The tide was in by the time we’d finished eating so we had a quick swim in the pool before heading back out again, the same way we’d been that morning. The longer beaches weren’t as pretty with the change in tide as the water was up to the line of drift wood and rubbish leaving only a trace of the sand we’d seen that morning. We ended up returning to one of the smaller coves we’d found where the tide wasn’t as pronounced, where we chilled for a bit before heading back for sunset on the beach again, dinner and bed.

Fisherman throwing his net, Rote.

When we woke, the tide was on it’s way out and we decided it would be a good time to walk out to watch the surfers. Trevor lent me his booties and Rhys braved it in flip flips, which broke half way out leaving him to struggle over sharp coral with bare feet. We stood for a while watching the surfers, amazed at how perfect the waves looked, before heading back in for breakfast.

Shar returning from a morning surfing, Rote.

We rented a motorbike again and this time turned left at the road. It wasn’t long before the tarmac ran out and we were riding down a single lane track and then a footpath, crossing dry river beds and sand dunes. As most people are here to surf, the locals don’t see many white people outside of Nemberala and everywhere you go, you get shouts of ‘Hello Mister!!!’ (no matter if you’re male or female) and people of all ages waving and running over to give you high fives as you ride past. 

Kids waving at us as we rode passed, Rote.

Rhys on the bike on yet another beautiful Rote beach.

We didn’t get far before it was time to turn back to make it to the resort in time for lunch. That afternoon we took the bike out again, this time we took the cross island road, a decent tarmac road that lead back towards the ferry port. We reached the other side where there was another, huge concrete pier, covered in clay, in the middle of nowhere, but the wind was churning up the waves and the tide was in so the beaches weren’t anywhere near as attractive as on our side of the island. We didn’t stop for long before turning back. Rhys let me drive back and before long we were at Anugerah. After a quick go on the tightrope strung up between palm trees, Rhys took a nap in the room while I read on the beach watching the world go by. The wind had picked up so no one had gone out to surf that afternoon and everyone was milling about.

Trevor mentioned a football game in the village that was played each day and suggested we wander up with him. This was his third year at Nemberala and each time he came he brought more presents for the kids, footballs and bibs, and he was welcomed in to play with them. Rhys had a kick about with some of the smaller kids and we sat and watched the older boys play their serious game with the sounds of the church choir practicing in the background.

Football in Nemberala, Rote.

We’d made the decision that day to stay an extra night (a good job since the ferry to the main land was suspended and had been since the day we arrived due to high winds in the strait), and had to use the internet to let the hostel in Dili know we’d be a day late reaching them. There is one internet cafe, only open at night for a couple of hours, located in the back room of the corner shop.

The next day we had a chill day and didn’t rent a bike. We had a lazy morning, after a slow breakfast chatting to people in the restaurant and playing with the puppies, Rhys watched TV in the room while I caught up on the blog. That pretty much took us to lunch time, yet another incredible meal with sashimi and salads and huge chunks of white fish, i’d recommend Rote and Anugerah to anyone, even if only for the food. That afternoon, Rhys went for a walk along the beach while I read, soaking up the sun and before we knew it, it was time for sunset on the beach, dinner and bed.

Sunset on the beach outside Anugerah, Rote.

We had one full day left on Rote and decided to hire a bike again and pick our two favourite beaches, one to spend the morning on and one, the evening. After breakfast, we headed left at the main road, dodging between goats and piglets and ducking low hanging palm tree branches, back to the dry river bed that opened on to sand dunes gently fading out into the bay. It was low tide and the sea was a long way out leaving us acres of white sand beach to lounge on. As it was pretty windy and we couldn’t lay on the sand without being coated in it, we collected a bizarre selection of rocks, coral and pumice stone for a game of baules, which Rhys won. 

White sand beach with the tide out, Rote.

We headed back to the resort for a swim in the pool and lunch before jumping on the bike again to drive right, to our favourite cove. As that morning, we had the beach entirely to ourselves except for one lone fisherman who wandered past. Another game of baules was in order before it was time to ride back for sunset. We played cards until dinner before turning in for the night.

We arranged to be collected the next morning by the guy who picked us up from the port 5 days previously. He arrived on time in his bemo and we jumped in for the ride to Ba’a. The fast ferry was running again, having been suspended for a couple of days due to the wind. We sat on the top deck and understood why it has to be stopped when the weather isn’t good enough, we were rocked about, although not horrendously and the locals were squealing and throwing up and when we arrived in Kupang we hit the pier creating a fair sized hole in the ferries upper deck.

Back on dry land, we jumped in a taxi to the Timor Leste consulate to collect our authorisation letters. When we got there, the gates were closed and there was a sign up saying the consulate wouldn’t reopen for three days, for no apparent reason. After a bit of confusion, they finally understood that we were only there to collect our letters and they’d been left in the security booth outside for us, it was our lucky day. We checked back in to the same hotel we’d stayed in before, although this time we got a room that smelt of wee, then wandered to the supposedly helpful backpacker hub of Lavalon on the beach to use the internet.

We struggled to find details of any buses running to Dili and started to worry, the supposedly helpful staff at Lavalon told us to get on a bemo but we had no idea where to, or where to get off. Eventually we speed walked back to our hotel and got a taxi to take us to the depot for one of the bus companies we’d read about on the few blogs we could actually find on the subject. There were only four tickets left and we quickly booked two before taxi’ing back to our hotel. 

We spent the rest of the evening using the internet and sorting out all the chores that we couldn’t do without internet in Rote, over a beer at the Lavalon Cafe, the only place we could find with working internet. After returning to our room we found the aircon was making noises like a passing freight train so we fought to move rooms, apparently every room was full but after making a bit of a scene, one suddenly freed up. For dinner, we wandered to a small food court near our hotel for cheap and delicious BBQ fish, before turning in for an early night with the alarm set for 4:40am.