Of happy endings, rhino horns and the Pope

Flores is an island containing about a dozen active volcanoes and our path ascended and descended most of them. We started at the town of Labuanbajo in the west and are now in the town of Ende in the east. Although Ende is the biggest town on Flores it really is just a one chicken town. The only massage parlour is closed so we can't even call it Happy Ende.

Almost everybody broke their personal records for elevation gain. On one day the total climb was about 3400m. That is half of Kilimanjaro in on a bike, riding in an oven. The only way for me to cope with the terrible heat was to throw myself in full cycling gear including sandals in the ocean. Depending on how many spectators around not topless but bottomless. Salt water, cycling shorts and saddle sores don't mix well.

The politically incorrect action of today was to buy a liquid in a plastic bottle. We swallowed it as water but after running the label through google translate it appeared to be a tonic containing powdered rhino horn. Nothing to do about it but it gave the same feeling you get when eating an apple and finding half a worm in it.

There is an 85% Catholic presence on the island. But somehow we always find ourself next to the only Mosque in town and still get woken at around four by a cacophony. For some reason the naughtiest children in South East Asia are found on this island. There have been incidents of them throwing stones at or hitting the cyclists, running next to the cycle trying to hold it back or throwing objects through the spokes. Obviously their parents can't scare them with images of the Pope.

Tomorrow we are flying to Timor which will be our last island before Australia. Rumours have it that we are spending the first night in a lovely flee ridden hotel with a disco and brothel on the same premises. I suspect we won't find any middle aged divorced ladies there.