week twenty two | darwin, northern territory

There is something to really be said for reverse culture shock. Perhaps it’s unexpected nature, or the fact that after a trip that was filled with stress, overwhelming challenges, difficult cultural and lingual shifts and an overall lack of home comforts (and sleep) there is very little time to process what getting home might mean.

Post Timor-Leste all I could think about was getting back into the swing of things and getting down to some serious big picture development work from my familiar surroundings in inner Melbourne. However before that, we had to spend some time in an Australian city as foreign as the ones we’d encountered in Timor-Leste.

Darwin sits at the top of Australia, the distant capital sitting above the vast red desert heart of Australia.

I’ve done shamefully little travel around most of my lovely home country and so this between-flight stopover presented a perfect, if not tiny, opportunity for me to see what’s up in this end of the country.

We arrived late in the evening, the air just as muggy as when we left Australia but this time the sticky breeze proved a welcome change from the overwhelming dryness we had been in for the last three weeks. After stowing our packs we hopped into a cab and headed towards the famous Mindil Beach Markets. They were just awesome, with live music filling the air, people smiling and dancing. It felt good to be home, but I was also left with a real sense of needing to travel more within Australia as soon as possible. This feeling was probably also exasperated by the fact I was reading “Tracks” at the time, a fantastic book written by Robyn Davison about her journey across the western Australian desert.

After our wander, and food tour of the markets we decided to meander down to Darwin’s main strip. In the darkness Darwin seemed quiet and a lot like other Australian cities. The strip was small, just a series of bars and pubs, and very ‘boys-night-out’ as we had unfortunately picked state of origin night to have our walk.

If international travel gives you better insight into the world around you, then coming home surely provides a brief reflective period of self-discovery. Perhaps the most noticeable one for us three girls was that as much as sexism and gender was a hot topic for our work in Timor-Leste, the wolf whistles and disgusting things shouted our direction from those bars was a horrifying way to be welcomed home.

Overall the trip to Darwin was one I was happy happened, but equally as happy to have behind me, however I’m willing to believe that it was the shortest of trips and poor Darwin got a very tired and overwhelmed Matilda rather than a rested one, ready for anything.

I’d like to go back, I’d like to see it in the daylight and to make some less uncomfortable memories. Because from what I have heard, Darwin is a pretty lovely place.

2/5 HIPPY MARKET STALLS

week twenty one | cape paterson, vic

Oh holidays, how lovely you are. Now it might seem strange (considering this blog) but I don’t actually go on many holidays. I think it’s okay – I love the fact that more often than not, the trips I take are for work, and that I am able to have wonderful day trips to so many cool places – but boy oh boy did I need some time to do absolutely nothing, and Cape Paterson was the perfect place to do it in.

Cape Paterson is on the coast west of Melbourne, an area I have never visited before. It’s pretty quiet and seems much less touristy then the Great Ocean Road region to the east. I didn’t know what to expect, but the blue skies and road trip tunes set a nice vibe for the weekend ahead.

When this trip was in the early planning stages it was going to be a camping trip, however with just two days till we were due to leave, Max and I hadn’t figured out where we were going and work had more than gotten in the way of adventure planning. Lucky for us though a generous offer of a perfect little beach house meant we could take our time and not worry about much once we got there.

There is very little actually in Cape Paterson. It has a couple of shops/milk bar type things and that’s about it, but close enough to both Inverloch and Wonthaggi which we used as our food and ice-cream hubs.

Despite the perfect weather all that week the weekend became a little cold and so after a pretty chilly fish and chips on the beach we spent the rest of the evening by the fire, where I can happily report I kicked ass at monopoly. The next day was still too cold for swimming but just sunny enough for us to hit the coastal road for some exploring. The road had little turn offs and paths down to beaches and lookouts so we had a great time hunting for non-existent caves, sitting on white sandy beaches and watching birds majestically land on eagles nest rock – a massive rock formation jutting up from the ocean off the coast. 

The weekend over all was a happy blur of sunny walks, red wine by the fire, car sing-along’s, good chats, lots of laughs and a couple of cute pictures – and I wouldn’t have had had it any other way.

TRIP RATING: 5/5 FIRE SIDE GLASSES OF RED

 

week twenty | warburton, vic

Melbourne cup day really sprung up on me out of nowhere this year and so I was pretty happy to invite myself along to a country hike that my wonderful friends Clare and Kym had planned. We set off in the early afternoon with the hopes of a small hike and some fresh air. Lucky for us the mountains are always closer than expected and we arrive in fresh, tiny, perfect, Warburton at around three and were off our short hike to the top of the falls. These waterfalls almost mark the start of what later becomes the Yarra, the huge river that snakes through the middle of Melbourne. I love being out of the city sometimes and it was the perfect way to escape the race that not only stops the nation but sadly the lives of a couple of beautiful horses this year.

The hike was lovely, not to long, quite busy (probably because of the public holiday) and it was a great day for it. Not too hot with a slight breeze coming through the palm trees. It’s all uphill, and I, as always, lamented at my fitness levels but god it was lovely. To top of the beauty of our surrounds was the fact that the three of us were just thrilled to be (FINALLY) on a hike club adventure, a concept that had been developed earlier this year and was part of the process of starting up this blog. 

Once we had finished our hike we headed into town for post hike fresh juice and then Kym took us to a very cool hidden forest that I wont write much about due to it’s top secret location and also because that means it will hopefully get it’s own post soon when I finally get back there.

It was a great day. It was great that hike club truly became a thing, it was great that I could spend some much needed time with Kym and Clare, and it was great that we could get out of town for a bit on a day I don’t overly enjoy. However one of the very greatest things about this trip was that as we were driving back through town on our way home it dawned on me that I had visited Wurburton one time before, over a year ago, on one of the greatest roadtrips of my life with my big sis Carter. What has become an almost legendary tale of our ten hour drive from Melbourne to Canberra is now much more readable on a map – and who knows, maybe one day Carter and I will be back and we can go on a hike and enjoy it as much as Kym, Clare and I did.

5/5 REALLY TALL TREES

week nineteen | atauro island, timor-leste

Part three: Atauro Island 

For those of you that read my blog or interact with me in the real world you might know I have the tendency to declare pretty much anything as ‘the best thing ever.’ This is purely a reflection of my positive and cheery nature rather then everything really being ‘the best thing ever’ because only one thing can be the best, and that thing is Atauro Island.

Paradise on earth and two hours by boat from Dili Atauro stole my heart from the very second we saw it clearly from our boat. It’s as dry as the rest of Timor but scattered with trees and houses along its crystal clear shoreline. Atuaro is today what I imagine islands off Thailand’s main land where back in the 70’s - untouched gems that very few people know anything about.  There is power for only 4 hours every evening but for the most part you don’t notice it, it’s calm, friendly and perfect.

We were lucky enough to stay at staff accommodation with our partner where we were presented seaside views; morning and afternoon swims and fresh coconuts cut right off the tree in the yard. There is just one place that you could stay as a tourist called Barry’s place which is a all inclusive eco resort on the island. It’s stunning and for anyone on the hunt for romantic getaways I couldn’t think of anything better.

Atauro is also a old colonial Portuguese port and so a stroll through the old town presents views of lovely old buildings, churches and houses built with big rap around balconies, evoking images of ladies sipping cool drinks and watching the sun set over the water.

Our stay on the island marked the last couple of days of our work trip, and so we headed to the beach on our last evening to have a chat about the impact of the trip both in a professional sense but also for us personally. By this time it felt like I had been in Timor-Leste a lifetime and I had learnt more then I could possibly have thought would be possible. This place will hold really precious memories for me and I’ll hopefully be back for years to come.

TRIP RATING: 5/5 FRESH COCONUTS 

week eighteen | alieu, timor-leste

Part two: Alieu. 

Part of my wonderful job at Oaktree is working with Plan Timor-Leste on a project that works in Dili and in Alieu. Alieu is a district in the mountains about 40km or a two hour drive from Dili. The two days I spent in Alieu were some of the most interesting days of my life.

We set of early on Tuesday morning – and started our rickety journey up the mountain. We were loaned an Emergency Sex (it’s a book mum don’t worry!) style white Toyota development truck and a driver whose skills will continue to impress me till the day I die.

The trip was much less ‘road’ and much more dried riverbeds and precarious mountain tracks. It was bumpy, it was slightly sickening and it was a great lesson in trust both in our dear driver, and also in the very rocks and mountainside we were balancing on.

Alieu is both the name of the district and the small town (probably better to read ‘village’ to get a better picture) with lots of kids (classic Timor) lots of chickens, lots of bright buildings and lots of dust.

Our time in Alieu was quite busy, in and out of meetings and conducting interviews. But we also got to spend some time back in the car watching the world go by. It was amazing to get out of Dili for a little while, and to meet and talk to people who we hear about through reports and data. I was incredibly proud of our program, the staff and especially the impact that the project is having on the lives of young people in the area. This particular partnership also works with young people the same age as I am so our discussions about finding our place in the world and our paths for the future were humbling and emotional. 

We ate simple local food at the same small restaurant every mealtime, and spent our night at a small guesthouse that sounded (all night) like it was home to two hundred people and a few too many roosters. Village life sure is different from the way I live in my tiny quite flat in Melbourne’s northern suburbs.

Our visit to Alieu was short but powerful. I came away feeling uplifted by our project, disheartened by the enormity of Timor-Leste’s very real systemic problems, and craving to do more all at the same time. It is a tricky place to work but I wouldn’t have it any other way. While there isn’t anything “to do” in Alieu, which means most travelers will not head there, I do hope that this little post inspires you to learn more about Timor-Leste and perhaps hang out with me and talk more about the work I’m lucky enough to be involved in.

TRIP RATING: 4/5 ROOSTER WAKE UP CALLS 

week seventeen | dili, timor-leste

It’s now been exactly a week since I stepped off the dusty tarmac into our small plane flying us out of Dili. I miss Timor-Leste more than I can possibly describe. My next three blogs will be a collection of short stories from my trip to Timor. They are by no means an extensive collection, nor will they truly reflect what I and my travel companions were doing there (because all work things will be left out for obvious reasons). However I do hope they paint a picture and convey some of my extreme love for Timor-Leste and its people.

Also a bit of a public service announcement, I will be canceling all upcoming plans and commitments and plan to move back some time next Tuesday.

Part one: Dili

We arrived in Dili early Friday morning, not knowing exactly what to expect and feeling more than a little apprehensive. Charlie, Katie and I also realized during the short flight from Darwin that while we had be preparing for this trip for the better part of two months, we were woefully unaware of many aspects of Timor-Leste itself. Almost everything (apart from complicated development theory and Best Practice M&E stuff) was destined to be a ‘learn-as-you-go’ sort of thing.

A couple of my very first reflections of Timor-Leste itself happened before we even landed. Looking out of the plane window at the rocky dry hills rolling into crystal clear blue water I was struck by how dry, and just how wild this country was. In my naive state I had perhaps been picturing a tropical paradise and was disarmingly met by sun bleached rock and dust. We were soon to become quite at one with the heat and the dust and by the time we landed it was wonderfully exciting rather than scary. 

Dili is a very strange place. Nothing like the big Asian cosmopolitan capitals I am familiar with. Dili is designed on a simple grid system, with a couple of major roads and is set right on the beach.

We were setting up shop at a tiny (and one of the only) backpackers hostels run by a really sweet lady called Rita. Rita was more than delighted to tell us where to visit, the best places to eat and also happened to own a highlight of our trip – her nutty but adorable puppy Achilles who enjoyed nothing more than sneaking into our room and chewing on shoelaces. 

I don’t know how well I understood the place until our last couple of days, with the phrase “WHY TIMOR WHY” being lamented by the whole team in relation to pretty much everything for pretty much the whole trip. Basic rule of thumb: nothing is what you’d think it is, and nothing really works in the way you’d expect – and should not fret but just “let it go”.

Despite all the flack Dili gets, it did have some pretty special ‘not to be missed’ things. My top three picks are

1) The beach and Giant Jesus at Cristo Rea. There was no logical explanation as to why there is a large Jesus statue casting a watchful gaze over Timor’s capital but I think that’s part of the charm. You can walk right up to his feet and get a great view down over Dili because Jesus is located at a tip of land with coves to either side. The beaches are just gorgeous and became of safe happy place during our rest days as we sipped fresh coconuts and floated in the clear water. There was no way to be stressed and I have done much life planning and self-reflection gazing back at the shore and the brown mountains behind.

2)  My Number 2 pick is actually a bit of a funny one because, in classic Timor-Leste style it was shut for no apparent reason the weekend we were due to visit. The National Resistance Museum is, by all other accounts, a “must see” - perfectly presented history of Timor’s struggle for independence and a reflective look back on the horrors that followed. Timor-Leste is a very young country, and the wounds are still very real; they fought a long, hard battle and the sense of peace and freedom was evident in every aspect of Timorese life.

3) My 3^rd (and final pick) would be the community art collective called “Arte Moris”. It is set in the grounds of an old run down dome-shaped building and filled to the brim with art – on every wall, in the small studio spaces, and with gardens filled with sculptures, murals and veggie gardens. This communal space was the most peaceful place in Dili and a lovely cool place for a quiet stroll. We had had a pretty tricky couple of days in the lead up to our visit there and I’m so glad Katie convinced us to leave the hostel. It also reminded me of a similar art collective I visited in Tallinn in Estonia with some friends a few years ago so perhaps it’s time for me to find one closer to home and break out my poor under-appreciated paint brushes again.

In short, Dili was incredible and reminded me a lot of cities in Mozambique - dry and dusty but filled with warm people who are proud of their strong history and their fight for independence. It is so clear that Timor-Leste still has so long to go, but it is a beautiful and wonderful place and I’m so lucky to be able to work with some its people.

TRIP RATING: 5/5 MICRO LETS 

week sixteen | harwood hall, yea, vic

I have the worlds best group of friends; they are silly, hilarious, fun, happy, supportive and really truly outstanding. A couple of weeks ago we headed into the wilds of country Victoria to celebrate our beautiful friend Em on her 21^st birthday. We set off a little behind schedule (isn’t it always the way). And because night driving isn’t that fun and everything always takes much longer than expected, by the time we got to our destination we were all a little hungry, a little grumpy and a lot grateful to get out of the car and have a drink.

We were spending the weekend at an adorable country hall a little way from the town of Yea. It was just picture perfect, a white weatherboard hall which Em and her family has decorated perfectly for the occasion. In all their wisdom they had also set up a couple of campfires outside where people could sit and chat, but also to make sure that there was a lot of space to bust out our rad d-floor moves inside.

Spring is Melbourne is nothing to write home about, unless you like long drawn out tales of dressing for one season and spending the day uncomfortable or drenched. Lucky for us though, about 2 hours north the weather is predictable. Predictably absolutely freezing. That being said however, the nighttime stars, the peaceful country surrounds, the warmth of the campfires and the drinks had us all feeling very cozy and exceptionally lucky to be there.

Once the cold had got the better of us and we were done with our dancing it was time for bed. A quick tent set up in the dark reminded me once again about how truly un-handy I am at most basic life skills, thankfully Luca has no such issues and we we’re all tucked up in tents or in cars ready for some shuteye in no time.  

I took a little walk in the early hours of the next morning, enjoying the complete quite and the misty crisp air. There is nothing like time in the country and it reminded me that I should to take some more time out. Also that I should probably re consider a life path that, at some point, might involve a small house in the middle of a paddock with a tiny fire and a few good books. So until I’ve learnt to put up a tent by myself and bought some warmer socks I’m happy to continue to adore the country from my little suburban flat in the big smoke and spend my days with some of the best people on earth.

TRIP RATING: 4/5 FIRESIDE CHATS