It was at the first Extraordinary Travel Festival in Yerevan, Armenia in 2022 that I first considered the goal of visiting every country on earth to be achievable.  When I signed up for ETF II to be held in Bangkok, I was most of the way there.  One of the few “stragglers” was Timor-Leste, f/k/a East Timor, half of an island northwest of Australia.  As I would be in the neighborhood (so to speak), I added it to my itinerary.

 

I start out with the world’s longest flight, from New York to Singapore.  The normal 17 hour flying time is even longer since due to current politics, there are no overflights of Russian territory.  Instead of crossing the Arctic Circle and turning south in the vicinity of Murmansk, our routing skirts southern Europe and takes us over the friendly skies of Iran and Afghanistan.

 

A connection in Singapore takes me to Bali, landing two days after I started (International Date Line at work).  Having no desire to re-experience this tourist-infested isle, I stay at the airport hotel.  A third flight on day three brings me to Dili, the capital of Timor-Leste.

 

Occupying the eastern half of the island of Timor, this was a Portuguese colony for 400 years.  (The western half was part of the Dutch East Indies.)  In 1975 Portugal decamped from its colonies.  Most all became independent countries, and the Timorese expected the same; Indonesia had other plans.  Soon after the Portuguese left, the Indonesian army invaded, occupying and annexing the territory.  For 23 years Indonesia administered it as a province, all the while battling a guerilla separatist army.  The UN took control in 1999 and in 2002 the Democratic Republic of Timor-Leste was recognized as a member state.

 

Although Portuguse remains the official language, very few of the 1.3 million inhabitants speak it.  Timorese (including the Indonesian province of West Timor) speak the local language, Tetum, or Indonesian.

 

The colony was a backwater of the Portuguese empire, so there is little of note to see in Dili.  This lacuna seems to have been filled by hideous modernistic sculptures and a giant statute of the national hero, Nicolau Lobato, outside the eponymous airport.  (He was the first president in 1975, but lasted in office only a week before Indonesia invaded.  He then led a guerilla force until he was killed in action in 1978).

The anti-colonial resistance movement started out in the 1970's as hard-core communist, which is the primary reason Indonesia invaded.  Ideologically it did not change much but the world did: by the time the Revolutionary Front for an Independent East Timor gained power, the Soviet Union had collapsed.  It has now evolved into a a center-left party, but its roots are evident by the fact that the handful of foreign embassies in Dili include Cuba and the Sahrawi Arab Democratic Republic (Polisario Front of Western Sahara).

 

I hire a car and driver for a two day tour to the east.  First stop is the National Heroes Memorial where the remains of resistance fighters dug up from villages and jungles have been re-interred.  Most graves are marked only by a single-name nom de guerre.  In a departure from military custom, the cemetery is segregated by rank with officers on higher tiers.  Small coffins draped with the national flag contain the bones of recently discovered casualties waiting for burial.

 

We continue along the north coast past rice fields and pristine beaches until the road ends at the fishing village of Com.

 

We then turn inland towards Los Palos, known for its traditional spirit houses.  They are adjacent to the dwellings for humans and provide a spectral abode.

 

Although Timor-Leste is the most Catholic country in the world (not counting The Vatican) traditional beliefs also survive: in the cemetaries, buffalo horns complement the crosses on headstones.

 

I spend the night at the historic Pousada de Baucau, the only colonial-era hotel in the country.  Aside from lodging and food, it has resident monkeys (in an enclosure).

 

Baucau is the second city of Timor-Leste (which is simply Portuguese for East Timor), but is one-twentieth the size of Dili.  It does have the only municipal swimming pool, once part of the Pousada and fed by natural springs.

 

The next day it’s down to the beach for an unusual coral arch with a tree growing atop, then upland to munitions tunnels dug by forced labor during WWII for the Japanese occupation army.

 

The small hill town of Venilale is home to the Royal School, built in 1933 and now a local high school.

 

 

A scenic drive back to Dili, and a view of the city from the heights.

 

The next day we drive to the West.  Our first stop is a coffee production facility.

Then what's left of a Portuguese prison.

 

 

And a 1756 Dutch fort.

 

Finally, a visit to Christo Rei, not quite the scale of the one in Rio, but nonetheless impressive.

 

East Timor done; but its not yet time for the Bangkok meet-up.  So back to Bali (the only international flights are to there and Darwin, Australia) where I connect to Sulawesi, another one of the 17,000 Islands that comprise Indonesia.  Sulawesi is the 11^th largest island in the world, almost the size of Great Britain, with the shape of four conjoined peninsulas.

 

Makassar is the capital of South Sulawesi.  At its heart is Fort Rotterdam, a 17^th century Dutch fort.

The former colonial city adminstration building now houses a museum that showcases rulers old and new.

 

By far the most eye-pleasing sight is the modern 99 Dome Mosque.

It’s an 8 hour bus ride into the mountainous interior to Toraja, a region that resisted Western influence until the 20^th century.  It is most noted for its distinctive saddle-shaped roofs on every structure.

They are ubiquitous – even my hotel has them.

 

The Torajans are also known for their elaborate funerary customs. I show up on the final day of one. A dozen buffalo have been sacrificed. (I am too late for the grusome early-morning ritual.) The blood is mixed in with the dirt and particpants slather themselves with the resulting mud.

 

Families save up for years to pay the cost of a funeral. In the interim, the departed occupy the same bedroom as when alive.

 

The week-long rites conclude when the coffin is carried to be interred in tombs hewn into the rocks.

The tombs are adorned with effigies of the departed.

 

The replicas last much longer than the originals.

After three days of touring, the overnight bus back to Makassar conveniently drops me off at the airport for my early morning flight to Ambon, capital of and largest city of Maluku. 

 

The Malukus (alternate spelling “Moluccas”) were formerly known as the Spice Islands, the goal of centuries-long trade routes.  Today a province of Indonesia, they are distinctive enough to be considered a “country” by the influential Travelers Century Club.  In the 1950’s there was a short-lived, self-declared “Republic of South Molucca”.

As is the norm in the region, the airport is a former WWII airfield.  It is on a peninsula opposite the city proper – until a bridge was built, you took a ferry.

In terms of interest to a visitor, Ambon City is a bust -- mainly a couple of mosques. Adjacent to the port is Fort Victoria, dating from the 16^th century but still an active military base and closed to visitors.  On the far end of the island is Fort Amsterdam, of which all that remains is a blockhouse and surrounding wall.

 

There is the World Peace Gong. The city variously bills itself as The City of Peace and The City of Music. 

 

 

On a hill overlooking the city is the provincial museum.  A few historical items, whale skeletons, and lots of native costumes.

 

There is diving and snorkeling off other islands in the Malukus, but my short schedule allows no time to visit them.  With a couple of days to kill, I do something uncharacteristic: I repair to a self-contained resort.  Boring, but nice surroundings.

 

It's time for ETF!  Two flights bring me to Bangkok by way of Jakarta.  The Thai capital is bigger and more congested than ever: the taxi ride from the airport takes an hour and a half.

 

The conference venue is the 760 room Ambassador Hotel.  Among the 250 attendees are many of the same faces as were at the previous ETF in Yerevan and last year's MTP (Most Traveled People) Summit in Equatorial Guinea.  Three days of speakers on such topics as the ultimate low-cost travel hack for three weeks in Mogadishu at no cost (get detained), cautions on not running afoul of obscure restrictions in Russia (presentation by a guy just released from two weeks in a Siberian jail), and a situation report from the Sultan of Slowjamastan (after visiting every country in the world, he decided to start his own).  Exhibitors include tour operators Visit Mogadishu (without detention) and Golden Visa Syria (tours probably on hiatus at the moment).

Also, Thai-themed entertainment and guests.

I enjoy it all so much that I signed up on the spot for MTP Summit II to be held one year hence in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia.

 

That’s it.  Three weeks, many sights seen, but only one new UN country (but three by TCC count).  A short flight to Singapore, then another non-stop to New York.  As both long-hauls were westbound, this counts as another circumnavigation of the globe for me.