Mount Bromo: Getting to take a walk in the clouds<\/p>\n
Placido, Contributor, Bromo, East Java<\/p>\n
As a child I used to say to my mother, "I want to walk over the
\nclouds." She smiled at my infant naivete. Many years later,
\ncoincidences and curiosity have taken me to Mount Bromo and ...
\nyes Mom, I have walked above the clouds!<\/p>\n
It is cold, very cold at 4 a.m. in Cemara Lewang, a little
\nvillage in East Java, built right on the rim of the 10-km wide
\nTengger crater.<\/p>\n
My budget accommodation offers only cold water; it stings my
\nface and I smile thinking that I am -- after all -- in tropical
\nIndonesia. It doesn't seem normal but, then again, there is very
\nlittle that is normal in getting up at this ungodly hour and even
\nmore so in the area surrounding Mt. Bromo. A feeling of weirdness
\nis pervasive.<\/p>\n
I had arrived the afternoon before with a bus from
\nProbolinggo that took me up to the village via Ngadas at an
\naltitude of well over 2,000 meters.<\/p>\n
The village is really unattractive and -- at that time -- was
\ndisarmingly quite; no noise could be heard. A light mist slightly
\nengulfed it, giving it a grave appearance and causing the
\ntemperature to drop even further.<\/p>\n
I searched for a restaurant and when I found it, I was pleased
\nto order soup and hot tea.<\/p>\n
The local people are, in many respects, different from their
\ncompatriots. They have maintained their Hindu faith, and are now
\nthe last such "pocket" left in Muslim Java. But it is not only
\nabout the religion, they also look different -- their demeanor
\nand features set them apart from the lowlanders. Maybe it is the
\nweather, or maybe the colorful blankets they constantly wear on
\ntheir shoulders or the hats that cover most of their faces.<\/p>\n
Somehow they remind me of the Andes inhabitants, Bolivian and
\nPeruvian, more than Javanese. They are friendly but very much
\nbusiness oriented -- the isolation puts them in a strong
\nbargaining position. Prices are inflated everywhere and --
\ncontrary to most other Indonesian places -- bargaining doesn't
\nreap much benefit.<\/p>\n
After dinner I checked out the short route from the hotel to
\nthe edge of the main crater and spent quite a while admiring the
\nmoon-like landscape.<\/p>\n
Bromo (2,392 m) is an active volcano but it is only one of the
\nthree peaks that have emerged within the caldera of the ancient
\nTengger. Standing in the middle of it, Bromo is flanked by Batok
\n(2,440 m) and Kursi (2,581 m). The three peaks are surrounded by
\nthree kilometers of dark lava-sand, best known as "the sea of
\nsand". The scenery is eerily imposing and barren.<\/p>\n
I was back in my hotel room by early evening and with the
\nanxiety of missing my wake-up time, I struggled to get to sleep.<\/p>\n
But here I am at twenty past four, after having washed my face
\nand ready to go. Several layers of clothes, comfortable walking
\nshoes, a bottle of water, a map and a torch are all I deem to be
\nindispensable.<\/p>\n
Stepping outside it is dark, pitch-black dark. It is a
\nmoonless night, so the road and the entire landscape fade into
\nblackness. My flashlights earn me no more than a meter of
\nvisibility. What is meant to be a short walk becomes much longer
\nand difficult. Stumbling is the rule and the rocky unevenness of
\nthe surface makes me feel like a child attempting his first
\nsteps.<\/p>\n
The town is slightly more alive than the previous afternoon.
\nLocals with jeeps or with ponies approach tourists offering their
\nservices and expertise -- most take-up the offer, while other
\ncarry-on independently. Yet the business contractions are carried
\nin an unnatural quietness, almost a "church-like" whispering.<\/p>\n
The slight edginess of "going-solo" disappears fast once I get
\nto the sea-of-sand. Apart from few racing jeeps and some lonely
\nhorsemen, the walk is quite solitary with the sand and the stars
\nas the only companions. The other travelers keep to themselves
\nand I am pleased to be able to enjoy the stillness of the
\nsetting. Anyway, footprint and hoof prints to and from the crater
\nremind me that I am not alone.<\/p>\n
Orienting oneself doesn't prove difficult with well-positioned
\nwhite stone markers on the ground leading me by hand. Also the
\nperfect shape of Batok -- visible even in almost complete
\ndarkness -- is reassuring, as I know that Bromo is just on its
\nleft.<\/p>\n
Slightly after 5 a.m., a thin light begins to emerge as a new
\nday breaks through the darkness. Harmoniously, the mysterious and
\nstrangely magnificent outline of Bromo's crater begins to come
\ninto focus just in time to start the 246 steps from the bottom of
\nits crater that will take me to the summit. Looking back, a
\nsteady flow of walking people is visible, and the hurrying of
\njeeps pollutes the silence.<\/p>\n
Overtaking wheezing flabby tourists, I swiftly make my way up
\nto the top where, suddenly, I am among many others. Sulfuric
\nfumes smelling like rotten eggs hit my nostrils and for a second
\nI am almost fearful to look inside the crater. It is wide, deep,
\nbarren and with a steady and nauseating stream of smoke bellowing
\nout.<\/p>\n
Then the sun starts appearing and my sentimental side takes
\nover: I am in awe. From the rim of the volcano, the first light
\nis more a lived experience than a mere observation. The horizon's
\ncolors change rapidly, from night-deep-blue to a light mixture of
\nblue-red-yellow-white.<\/p>\n
A group of chanting Indonesian students don't seem to be here
\nfor any soul-searching experience, so I walk clockwise on the rim
\nto get away from them and, after a few minutes, I am rewarded
\nwith peace and quite.<\/p>\n
The air is definitely crisp but it doesn't get chilly.
\nSquatting on the ground I only wish I had someone to share these
\nemotions with.<\/p>\n
When the timid sunrays touch the cold sand, mist is formed. It
\ngets thicker and thicker and the sea of sand soon gets covered,
\nwhich adds to its mystique.<\/p>\n
The sun rises rapidly and majestically with its perfect
\nrounded red shape, growing above the clouds. It is quite a
\nspectacle.<\/p>\n
The mist rising from the sea of sand mixes with the smoke of
\nthe crater. Dreaming with childish longing, I feel like finally
\nwalking over the clouds.<\/p>",
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