Eye to Eye

 

It is a little after 6 in the morning and we are sitting in a non-decrepit café at the top of King Kong Hill. I have just received a massive dose of dopamine, delivered by the exhilarating sunrise over Mount Bromo. I drink the coffee more out of habit than need. I don’t notice how it tastes. I am oblivious of what is going on around me. I want to retreat into my shell and rewind what I had witnessed over the last 2 hours.

0630. The Land Cruisers are summoned. They arrive one after the other to take us down.

Looking out, I see this extraordinary scene. The milky-white blanket over the sand is due to mist.

0640. We are on what is known as “Savannah”. Tufts of green-yellow grass sprout here and there. Around us are mounds covered in green and golden-yellow foliage. How this “Savannah” sits next to and seamlessly transitions to the “sea of sand” – a large expanse of grey volcanic ash – is worthy of a doctoral dissertation. I suspect it is due to wind patterns and micro-climate. We take pictures, including our raths and sarathis, who are resting on their haunches – like fit people naturally do.

It is warm already. I take off my jacket. Lucky to have the land cruiser close by to leave it behind. Shedding even the smallest weight is vital.

The “sea of sand” appears intimidating. A haze of ash is rising in front of me. The landscape is straight out of dystopian sci-fi – enchantingly bleak.

0708. I start walking purposefully on the wide expanse in front of me. There are horses for those who give up even before taking the first step. These horses are a big problem; more about that later.

0726. The first 500 m have been easy and even pleasant. Now a gradient appears, with gradually increasing inclination. To compound things, the path is now narrow. This is where horses and humans converge. Every time a horse goes past me it kicks up a huge cloud of dust. I raise my balaclava to cover my nose. It deprives me of oxygen. I gasp and lower the cloth from my nose. But another horse is already coming past me. It is a losing battle against horse and breath. The dust that kicked up is volcanic ash, far more hazardous than the sand on a beach. The N95 mask is sitting in my backpack. I dare not use it, for it will only worsen my breathing.

It is a shame that horses and those on foot are on the same path. Surely, the park authorities could have planned better. I curse the horses and the riders. But I forgive them the very next minute. People riding the horses (200,000 Rupiah both ways) are supporting the Tengger community, the original inhabitants of the environs around these volcanoes.

0743. I survive the gradient and join the queue for the final ascent. This is a concrete staircase of 253 steps going straight up at a punishing gradient of 35 degrees. I take few bites off the energy bar and a couple of gulps of water.

At the base of the staircase, there are a couple of vendors selling offerings to the volcano crater. These are Javan edelweiss flowers dyed in various colours. Locally known as “the eternal flower”, it is endemic to the Indonesian archipelago and has deep cultural ties with the Tengger people. It is expressly forbidden to carry these flowers home as souvenirs.

Progress on the staircase is slow and orderly. There are few seconds to pause on every step.

0803. I make it to the top – the rim around the volcano crater.

Finally, I am eye to eye with the crater and the creator. White fumes rise up from the crater. Part of the walls are stained sulfur-yellow. I cannot believe I am standing on top of a very palpably active volcano.

Some 20 metres along the rim sits an idol of Ganesha. I offer a sprig of edelweiss and say a silent prayer of gratitude to Vighnaharta for evaporating my mental obstacles.

Beyond the Ganesha idol, the rim narrows and continues further. There are no protective guardrails here. The drop-off towards the cauldron is sheer. And I get jittery. I realise the rim itself is not a solid ground but a collection of loose debris. And as usual, there are people taking selfies.

0820. I am fighting a surge of people to make my way to the staircase and begin my descent.

0855. I am at a sprawling modern temple dedicated to Brahma. I take photos perfunctorily. The stone edifice holds no interest after encountering the creator eye to eye.

It pains me to close this momentous experience with a chilly warning, but I must. I did not see a single first-aid post, an ambulance or an official responsible for safety. The safety of visitors seemed to depend almost entirely on their own conduct and consideration for one another.