Bobonaro Travel Blog› entry 46 of 86 › view all entries
I decided that our 39 hours duty meant we deserved to have a late start the next day. Bobonaro is known for itâ€™s hot pool so I suggested we got there at 10am next morning. Almeiro suggested 11am and since he was from here I decided that must be a good plan. Raul said it would be too hot under the sun by that time but I wanted to make sure we were all able to go so stuck with the later hour. I suggested weâ€™d go have a swim and lunch and then return to work at 2pm for the afternoon.
Next morning we were up about the same time
anyway and were sitting around waiting for 11am. Mike decided weâ€™d give Ewen a call so the
three kiwis were all able to go but when we met at the meeting point at 11am Almeiro
and Raul were nowhere to be found. I
called and they said they werenâ€™t going.
Unfortunately I hadnâ€™t expected the journey to take us back past the Bobonaro sub-station and on the valley below the mountain Iâ€™d just spent the night up, but yes, it took us just over an hour to drive back there and down into the valley. It was a nice enough drive but I was starting to get concerned about how late weâ€™d be for work. When we came into the bottom of the valley and I caught a glimpse of the pool complex I forgot all that â€“it was as if Iâ€™d just stepped back in time to Roman days
The pool complex was exactly that, a complex with several pools and conduits running over rocks to cool the water before it got to the concrete constructions. There were buildings that had long been destroyed, some obviously to do with the pools, others more like chalets for those staying at the â€śspa resortâ€ť. I was blown away and even now, weeks later, I still canâ€™t believe that something so out-of the ordinary should be here in the middle of this fantastic country.
The water was HOT! I swam a couple of times and my pink skin was
turned red by the waterâ€™s heat.
After a bite to eat I took a dollop of the mud and put it to work on my t-zone. Everyone knows the beauty treatment characteristics of boiling mud so I canâ€™t imagine why the Timorese donâ€™t bottle the stuff for export. Iâ€™m pretty sure my pores were deep clean after the application but I wasnâ€™t so sure if it was really mud or something from the pig that had left hoofmarks in the mud before I arrived. Not that it bothered me too much, just another great reason to duck back in the pool before we climbed back in the cars and climbed back out of the valley.