We finally have some wheels and yesterday the Mr and I left the kids with the nanny and took the car for a spin.

Mr Moi tapped into his sense of adventure and took me on the ‘main’ road east of Dili, which goes up over the mountains (which seem very Asian in geography – think the limestone karst shapes of Thailand and Malaysia. However vegetation wise, they look like Australian bush – dry with eucalypts).

What started out as a relaxing Saturday drive soon saw me experiencing my third ever driving-induced panic attack*.

The roads in Dili itself are crap, so excuse me if I expected the same fairly bad standard as we headed out of town. Instead, the roads were worse. Massive potholes, the edges of the roads crumbling away, no width whatsoever. But what really freaked me out was that the road rose steeply very quickly, and hugged the side of the mountain – a sheer drop at the side, with no railings whatsover.

We were on the sheer-side lane on the way over the hill, and everytime we had to pull over to let a car pass in the oncoming direction (yes, the roads are that thin), I pictured our car slowly rolling over and falling down the hill, getting faster and faster until we hit the bottom.

Yes – it was THAT bad.

Needless to say, I don’t think I helped quell the Mr’s nerves as he drove the streets of Dili for the first time ever.

And all this within 10kms of Dili.

* The first one was when we drove a highway frequented by bandits in Laos. The second was driving along the very dodgy roads of Ukraine, from Kyiv to Crimea. None a patch on this though.