Adventures in South East Asia

26 ~ Late night hikes and Bali

Ijen crater to Ubud, Bali, Indoensia

At midnight I woke up and stuffed items back in my travel pack. I had a spot of tea too, to even out the lack of sleep. We drove down the bumpy path to Ijen crater and soon met with a local guide who could accompany us to the summit. The guide also handed us face masks because the sulfur was apparently quite strong. It was also rumoured that Ijen crater had been closed to tourism by the government for being unsafe in terms of air pollution. I found this our after booking the tour, of course. Nothing like a little added danger.

We started up the path with a gradual ascent, then mountain steep, and gradual again at the very end. Flashlights afforded us the luxury of not tripping and twisting our ankles in the crevices or on the tree roots along the way. I did appreciate the extra traction on the path, which meant I was less likely to fall, in theory. My shoes were long past functional at this point as the sole and boot had become enemies, refusing to stay together despite my best intentions. We made good time and even passed a group of older Japanese tourists on the one and a half hour hike to the top.

During the ascent, the guide would yell, "Smoke! Go, go, go!" I thought he spoke to our group, urging us to hasten our pace and avoid the fumes, but it also felt as if he were speaking to the smoke as well. Either way, I pulled up my hospital face mask and ran like stink.

Once we reached the summit, we sat on the edge and looked at the tiny blue lights through the smoke rising. If I really squinted I could see the three, but it certainly didn't compare with the picture where the photographer had come on a brilliant night and been allowed a closer look at the lava area. I had expected as much and wasn't too disappointed. It took a lot of tweaking with settings on my camera, but I finally almost captured the 'blue fire'. It was blurry as all heck, but I got it.

Since it was 3:30 a.m., we only had several hours to wait for the sun to rise. I tugged my wool scarf closer to my neck and wished I had actually brought a jacket on this whole trip to Asia. Some woman had told us back in Canada that bringing a jacket was just a waste of space and I had sadly listened.

When I had heard that it would be only four degrees at Ijen, I had gone into panic mode back at the hotel and dressed like I was trying to smuggle discount clothes back over the border after a shopping trip to the United States. I wore a tank top, t-shirt and my only sweater paired with a pair of leggings that almost reached my ankles and baggy capri sweats. The Canadian in me was a bit ashamed I was being such suck. 'You'd be breaking out the t-shirts if this were spring, you ninny,' it harped.

The other part of me that hadn't experienced single digit temperatures in nearly a year had no qualms except the fact that I had neither toque nor mittens. Why had those not made my packing list?

One guide up here had the brilliant idea to start a fire. Between the dozen of us looking to take advantage of the heat, some took turns foraging for firewood until we had a good base to light. The promise of warmth drew more people closer from different tour groups. Squatting next to the fire, I found the balance between frozen as an iced cap and hot spring scalding hard to manage. The hours passed at a glacial pace as the flames danced.

The sky's light began to transform the landscape as dawn broke. A large peak to our left had more pronounced ridges and gray lines. Below in the smoking 'blue fire' area, a teal/gray lake surrounded the entire crater, just missing the smoke covered lava. Plenty of other volcanoes and mountains surrounded us as well. The sun finally breached the horizon and gave us permission to make the hike back down to the vans.

We passed men selling sulfur carvings of turtles and flowers to tourists. The area near blue fire served as sulfur mining territory with the miners having the awful job of transporting each piece in baskets connected by a wood rod on their shoulders. Or maybe the one rigged basket set we passed along the way had just been for show.