Scooting around

Late Tuesday afternoons I teach at Banco ANZ - the ANZ bank which is on the other side of town to where the school is.  Usually I take a taxi for $2.  While this doesn't seem a large amount, it appears the locals - and those malai willing to brow beat the driver - get the same trip for $1. While this was not a huge consideration, it was useful bargaining power for the part of me that wanted to master riding the scooter. 

I spent a large portion of the day mentally putting forward the pros and cons:
Pro - no money spent on a taxi.
Con - I needed to put petrol in the bike.
Pro - good practice riding the bike.
Con - I haven't yet mastered riding the bike
Pro - I would feel a sense of achievement
Con - the traffic seems somewhat illogical
Pro - ANZ was easy to get to, so I wouldn't have the stress of getting lost
Con - have I mentioned the traffic?

And so it went on until I shamed myself into doing it.  Firstly, I rode to Tiger Fuel and filled the tank . . . well, technically the man at the pump filled the tank.  I just paid the $5 . . . and bought a packet of Rolos for another $3.

Since Tiger Fuel is on one of the busiest roads, I headed back to Beach Road.  From here is was a straight run and then two right turns and voila, Banco ANZ.

And so it was an enthusiasm-filled Mandy set off on her scooter adventure.  How hard could it be?  Stay close to the edge of the road, turn right, turn right and voila.  Tell me again, how hard?  Easy, right?  Sigh.  Now is probably a good time to mention that I am not the most geographically astute person.  I have walked this route or been driven in a taxi on many occasions.  I knew that ANZ is on a one-way street and so I needed to go past it and then double back.  I knew the landmarks- I'd walked past them at least five or six times . . . except . . . except . . . it somehow seemed longer on the bike.  Surely I must turn now!  And so I did.

Right, then right.  Yep, on track . . . . ANZ will be right there on that corner.  Oh, okay, maybe the next corner . . . or the next . . . It was round about the time that I saw the Cathedral up ahead that I finally admitted to myself that I was, effectively, heading away from ANZ, further and further away.  I had to go back. 

This also sounds as simple as the whole straight-then right-right thing - and about as easy to execute.  Dili is a labyrinth of one-way streets.  And what was the point of trying to get back to Beach Rd when I clearly didn't know the way from there?  So, left it was.

Oh the stupid choices we make in life!  Left took me straight into a market area . . . and a traffic jam. Bumper to bumper, lots of horns and me not yet skilled in "brake" and even less skilled in having a clue where I was or, despite knowing where I needed to be, how to get there.

I kept going, periodically shouting, "Banco ANZ?" to startled pedestrians.  They pointed and replied in Timorese something which might have approximated, "That way!  That way!"  (I shall tactfully leave out any comment they might have added about stupid malai and their inability to master traffic - let alone "brake".)

A taxi behind me honked impatiently.  Other motorcyclists and scooter riders, infinitely more skilled than I whizzed past, expertly weaving in and out of cars and trucks that seemed parked or semi-parked, turning left, turning right.  And through it all I puttered along in first, sometimes venturing into second.

In desperation more than guidance from my inner compass (which is distinctly wonky), I turned left.  Not far enough, I chided myself.  I resolved to turn right at the next corner.  As I approached the traffic lights, I plotted my strategy.  I checked my rear-vision mirror.  No cars.  Great.  Pull to the middle of the road.  Indicate.  Yep.  Yep.  Then I looked up . . . and saw it . . . those big blue letters, so familiar and yet so seemingly elusive . . . ANZ; sad, to say, my Holy Grail.  I abandoned plans to turn left and powered across the intersection.  Yippeeee!!!!   Finally, I was here.  It was more straight, right, right, left, left, right, straight, right, left right, right, left, left, than the original plan, but I had landed . . . and ten minutes before the class was due to start at that.