Sulfurous craters in a sea of cloud

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The next morning a small van - called a travel in this part of Indonesia (the range of names for these little vans is extraordinary - angkot, colt, bemo, pete-pete) - awaits us just outside the homestay for a nine-hour drive eastwards to the very Javanese-sounding (as you should now recognise) town of Probolinggo. Driving parallel to Java's fiery spine, we pass numerous volcanic peaks. Actually, we are heading for one of Java's most famous volcanos: Gunung Bromo. The drive takes us through a mish-mash of rice fields and sprawling industrial towns, all to the tune of Java's ubiquitous honking horns. As ever in this archipelago, the driving is reckless, gung-ho and a smidgen suicidal. I close my eyes at every overtaking - so did the driver, I think. Nevertheless, we arrive safely, albeit rather tired, in Probolinggo where, after an unexplained half-hour wait (très Indonesian) we board another travel (the first one seemed fine to me...) to the village of Cemoro Lawang. It is pitch black by the time we arrive and there is not a hint of this village's truly astonishing location.

Cemoro Lawang is perched right on the edge of the colossal Tengger crater, the kilometre wide caldera of a huge volcano. Yet even this, extraordinary as it is, is not the main attraction. The massive circular crater encloses a vast sea of black volcanic sand, from which a trio of smaller conical volcanos emerges. Gunung Bromo is one of these three, squat and grey and continuously belching a stream of sulfurous steam from its darkly rumbling depths.

The alarm is set for 3.30am the next morning. We are woken up a few minutes earlier by a knock on the door from the Jeep driver we've hired. We've been told it will be quite cold where we are heading, and we don multiple layers of our summer clothing, onion-style. I had purchased a very silly-but-warm-looking woolly hat the previous evening from a young boy. On it goes as well. We do all this by torchlight - there is no 24-hour electricity here ! We step out of the little hut that is our room. The driver was right - it is FREE ZING. All is quiet and the constellations shine brilliantly in the sky overhead. We bundle ourselves into the back of the Jeep. There are four others with us, everyone looks half asleep and very, very cold. There follows an hour-long drive along a narrow winding road, complete with hairpin turns, up and along the crater rim, and then up to the top of ridge overlooking the crater. Our destination is the 2770m peak of Gunung Penanjakan, where a small viewing platform has been built. It is even colder up there, and after the searing heat of Java everyone is hopping up and down to keep warm. Bless that woolly-hat boy !

Slowly the sky to the east lightens to a dark blue, and the tinges of red and pink and orange become more pronounced until the sun eventually peaks above a distant, separate chain of peaks in the distance.

And, gradually, the Tengger caldera unfolds before our amazed eyes. The floor of the crater is covered in a dense layer of snow white clouds, which sits above the sea of sand, obsuring it. A sea of cloud. Out of this expanse rise the peaks of Gunung Bromo (2329m), Gunung Batok (2440m) and Gunung Kursi (2581m). Their bases are lost in the cloud and all three seem to be floating in a milk-filled crater. The landscape is truly sublime and quite unlike anything we have ever seen in our lives. The picture is completed by the giant Gunung Semeru, a 3676m the highest peak in Java, standing behing the Tengger crater. Semeru is very much active, and at intervals of twenty minutes or so, a dark plume of ash and dust is ejected into the sky to be gently carried off by the wind. For a moment, we could be on another planet.

An hour later, numb from the cold, we shuffle back to the Jeep which then descends right into the Tengger crater and drives across the lava sand sea to the foot of Bromo. From here it's a twenty-minute walk up the side of the volcano (luckily there are steps up the steepest section - you can feel the air is thinner up here...every step is a huge effort). From the smaller crater rim of Bromo itself you can peer right down to the opening from which the endless clouds of noxious gas escape the earth. Occasionally the wind plays a trick and blows the choking hydrogen sulfide-laden fumes into our faces. Mother Nature's stink-bomb. A continuous deep rumble emanates from Bromo's bowels - the power of this volcano is palpable, and unsettlingly it feels like it might burst into fiery activity at any time. The threat level posed by Bromo was recently upgraded, and standing on the edge of the precipice we are glad we don't have to live and sleep next to this snoozing but threatening giant. Bromo is sacred to the Hindu Tenggerese people, and a large temple sits in the sacred crater, where ceremonies are regularly performed and offerings made to appease the restless volcanos within it.

It is barely 7am when we get back to our friendly little hotel, the ominously names Lava Café. We already feel completely exhausted ! Today, unfortunately, promises to be a particularly trying day: we are booked on a flight from Surabaya (Indonesia's second largest city, some four hours away by road) at 2am - the following morning - to our next destination. We are not relishing the prospect. Still, we have our room until noon so we try to sleep for at least a few hours...Before lunch we take a stroll around the village, with its windswept onion fields, allotments and chicken coops. The wind whistles loudly through the trees as it tumbles down Tengger's sides. The air is cold and try and as we walk between the fields, local farmers work this harsh but fertile land to eke out a living.

After lunch we make arrangements for transportation back down the mountain to Probolinggo, from where there are regular connections to Surabaya - in proper buses where one seat equals one passenger (as opposed to bemos, where full bus equals more room). Unfortunately regular buses down to Probolinggo leave only in the morning and we find ourselves frustratingly forced to either charter a whole bus or wait until 4pm when there might be a bus leaving if there are enough passengers. We decide to bite the bullet and leave early - our flight from Surabaya is too important to miss. Despite our chartering the bus, our friendly joker of a driver still stops frequently to pick up more passengers. Still, he does us the "favour" of driving very fast, getting us into Probolinggo in an hour instead of the usual two. On the way we are treated to the usual Indonesian version of twenty questions. Where are you from ? How old are you ? Are you married ? Do you have children ? In Indonesia you must answer belum, "not yet". Tidak, or "no", is just asking for trouble. And so on...

At Probolinggo bus station we board a Surabaya-bound bus almost immediately. As the bus prepares to leave, a stream of snack, drink and newspaper-vendors files down the aisle shouting their wares: Tahu ! Kacang ! Air dingin dingin dingin ! ("Tofu ! Peanuts ! Cold cold water !")...Interestingly, the Indonesian word for "water" is air !...At four we pull out and begin a rather hot and tedious drive to Surabaya, through countryside and town, past factory and volcano. Noisy and dirty it may be, but the trans-Javan highway we are travelling on positively vibrates with energy. The road teems with motorised traffic, bicycles, horse carts, buffalo, children and street vendors. Volcanic peaks are silhouetted against reddening skies as Javanese prepare to break the fast after sunset.

As we approach Surabaya the traffic slows - Indonesian newspapers have been filled recently with coverage of a nearby toxic mud spillage following careless drilling by a gas firm. The rivers of mud have displaced thousands, swamped motorways, roads and severed railway lines. Thus we reach Surabaya's bus terminal at a crawl. It's 7pm now - another seven and a half hours until our flight. We consider going into town for dinner, but the station is 20km south of town (annoyingly this is commonplace in Indonesia), the traffic gridlocked, it's dark and we're weighed down with luggage. We opt for the waiting game. A taxi drops us off at Surabaya's Juanda airport. Officially our flight is tomorrow, so no indication of it on the boards...After a bite to eat, the sympathetic cafeteria staff show us to the restaurant's upper floor which is quiet and has some soft benches we can sleep on. As Alex sleeps away our waiting time, I make acquaintance of the airport's night-time residents, namely large black rats and a whole herd of cockroaches.

The hours tick by...soon enough it's 1am, time to check in and make our way to the gate. A fascinating leg of our trip, we hope, is about to begin !

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Photos

Earth ? Or the Moon ?
The view from Gunung Penanjakan, just above the rim of the Tengger Crater. The cloud-filled caldera encloses the three smaller peaks, with Gunung Semeru huge in the distance.

From the bowels of the Earth...
...pour sulfurous fumes. This is Bromo's crater, emitting a constant, deep rumble which is most unsettling.

She'll be coming round the crater...
Alex riding down the side of Bromo back to the lava sand sea. An army of ponies is at hand to help us unhealthy westerners.

Sea of clouds
From the side of Gunung Bromo, the clouds fill the Tengger crater.

Bromo and Semeru
Both spewing clouds of toxic gases. Semeru in the background emits a plume every quarter of an hour or so. Bromo's stream is constant.

Lunar Landscape
A post-apocalyptic landscape indeed. The background rumbling of Bromo adds to the eerie atmosphere.

Giant cup of cappucino ?
One of the craters three peaks jutting out of the clouds.

The crater at noon
Later in the day, the cloud has cleared from the Tengger crater, revealing the sea of lava sand. The atmosphere is of another world. Dust clouds sweep through the caldera.

Barber on the edge of the crater
Cemoro Lawang is a minuscule backwater, and this barber "shop" was one of the only commercial establishments we could find !

Gets your snacks here !
In Probolinggo bus station, ready to depart for Surabaya. Vendors squeeze down the aisle - selling anything you could ever need.

Playing it safe
On the road to Surabaya. Our bus driver is tailgating, at high speed and with a severely cracked windscreen, an erratically driving tanker loaded with caustic soda. Alex spotter another similar tanker carrying sulfuric acid. Nice to see the risks aren't piling up...