By James

After a 20 minute walk, nine hours on a train, a 45 minute taxi ride and a one and a half hour minibus journey, we finally arrived at Ngadisari, our base for our trip up to Mount Bromo. This was the coldest we’ve been on our entire trip! I mean, hatesvabd scarves kind of weather!

After a very short sleep (noisy neighbours and thin walls), we were picked up at 3.30am by our driver in a cherry red jeep, picked up our fellow visitors, and headed up the mountain in pitch darkness. Ahead of us we could see five or so pairs of brake lights snaking up the hill ahead of us, to Mount Pananjakan to view the sunrise. At 2,782 meters above sea level and a full 400m higher than Mount Bromo below, it should have been the perfect spot to view the sunrise over the plain.

However.

As you can see from the out of focus photo here, everything was totally obscured by mist!

As the first rays of light trickled through the mist, 200 people, phones held aloft, rushed over to take photos (with flash) of absolutely nothing. Then they waited there, a crush of 15 people deep, at the railing waiting for a majestic sunrise.

We, along with hundreds of other sunrise seekers were very disappointed. (Including a couple of very cynical Frenchmen who were sat next to us.)

We tried not to let our dashed hopes show in our faces as we faced one another on the drive back down the winding road towards the plain. Then, suddenly, Chloe noticed over my shoulder a glimpse of a valley. We called for the driver to stop, rushed out and scrambled up the steep slope to a clearing.

We were rewarded with a majestic view of a valley we had been promised, bathed in light and a volcano puffing away below.

We were chuffed to bits, as you can see.

When we arrived at the ash-blackened plain we hopped out, told the driver we could get back ourselves (one of our group needed to catch a train) and made our way to the foot of the volcano. We were joined by Charlie and Robyn, a lovely young couple we had met on the minibus the night before, and, after a brief visit to a Hindu temple where locals were praying to the volcano (presumably asking it not to explode again- its last eruption was only in November 2016!), we started to climb.

 

The climb itself was not very challenging in terms of height, but the dust made it difficult. Whilst Mount Bromo (2373m above sea level) is not the highest volcano in Java (that honour is reserved for Mount Semeru in the east of the island), the altitude, combined with the dust that was kicked up by the horses that were carrying (lazy) tourists to the steps, meant it was quite hard to breathe and slow going.

As we got to the steps that led up to the crater, we caught the unmistakable smell of sulphur on the wind and heard what sounded like a jet engine.

I do not speak in hyperbole that when I say that, when we got to the top, heard the roar, the rumble under our feet, saw the steam bleach forth and the sheer SIZE of it all, we were awestruck and more than a little humbled. The undeniable power of nature was really brought home to us all.

Many offerings were placed on the crater rim or thrown in. We saw bouquets of flowers, fruit and biscuits. As we walked around the rim I spotted an offering that was sure to bring protection for months to come.

Yep, that’s a cow. It appeared to have been trussed up, slaughtered and thrown into the crater as a sacrificial offering.

We explored the crater’s edge for a good 45 minutes until Chloe’s hitherto unknown vertigo got the better of her and we descended for a breakfast of cold eggs, and chocolate caramel wafer bars.

Our ride now was gone, so we made our way across the southern side of the plain just the four of us, up the steep mountain road, back into Cemoro Lawang, the nearest village to the volcano. After a brunch of noodles (slimy yet chewy) and coffee (bitter and grainy), we said goodbye to Charlie and Robyn and trudged the 2.5 miles back down the valley to our hotel.

As we had been up since before dawn and had been very physical, we were exhausted. So we quickly showered, drank as much water as we could handle and passed out in each other’s arms at 1pm. It wasn’t until mid-afternoon that we were awoken by the local imam singing out the prayers welcoming in the first day of Ramadan.

What a wonderful day, spent with the most wonderful woman.

Next it’s off to Ijen Crater in the extreme East of the island to visit the sulphur miners!

Until then, all our love- The Backpack Duo x