Holy Smoke, It's Mount Bromo

I have to admit that I was a little scared of travelling on to Java. Not because of any personal risk or danger, but by the fact that it's half the size of Great Britain and has a population of 120 million people. Hard to comprehend really. I had a vision that it would be like a conurbation of Indian villages with people scrambling for every inch of space. Java has a few jewels though that are not to be missed on any Indonesian itinerary. My first destination the fabled volcano, Gunung Bromo.

According to legend, a local princess started a separate principality there together with her husband. The principality did prosper, but the ruling couple failed to conceive children. In their despair they climbed Mount Bromo to pray to the gods, who granted them help, but requested the last child to be sacrificed to the gods. They had 24 children, and when the 25th and last child was born the princess refused to do the sacrifice as promised. The gods then threatened with fire and brimstone, until she finally did the sacrifice. After the child was thrown into the crater, the voice of the child ordered the local people to perform an annual ceremony on the volcano.

Getting there didn't pose too many problems. My nice moped rental guy from Bali drove me to the bus station in Denpasar for 6am, where I really hadn't a clue what was going to happen. The touts swarmed and my paranoia kicked in but in the end there was only one bus leaving for Probolingo, the exit city for Bromo and it left at about 10am. Not a bad bus journey by the standards I had gotten used to in crossing Flores. At Probolingo, the bus driver decided to stop at his hotel of choice and leave me on the side of the road. I sorted out accommodation in what turned out to be a pretty nice place.

Operation Bromo

The next morning I was out and about to try to track down the minibus that legend has it travels the mountain road up to Cemoro Lawang, which overlooks the crater that Bromo sits in the middle of. First I thought it wise to enquire how I would get from there to Jogja a couple of days later. 'Oh mister, maybe the bus will be full. I think you should book now' was the theme of the day. I'd heard this one or two places before. In the end, I met a guy that not only would book a bus ticket to Jogja, but drive me up the mountain to Cemoro Lawang, the village hanging over the crater the Bromo sits in. Off I went on the back of his spluttering moped through the freezing layers of fog on the mountain. Eventually we climbed above the clouds and almost immediately Cemoro Lawang appeared. My moped man drove me to the guesthouse that he gets his bit of commission from, I got me room at a decent off season price, so everyone was happy.

It was nearing noon by the time I got there and after checking into my room didn't waste any time crossing the sea of sand (the crater area that surrounds Bromo) to get a closer look. All the groups were long gone and a couple of tea sellers were all that were left at the foot of the cone. I made it to the crater edge with the constant puff of steam climbing to the skies from the crater centre. With the drifting air, nowhere was safe from the sulphurous plume. You literally couldn't breath when surrounded by it. It's not surprising that people have fallen scrambling around the crater. A local came up and started scrambling down the inside of the crater. The people that come in the morning throw offerings into the crater, mainly flowers and money. Flowers can be recycled and money used for a whole lot more. Nothing goes to waste. He knew by me that I wasn't approving of his antics! I got back to my accommodation just in time to miss the afternoon downpour.

Sunrise on the Crater

Wake-up was at 3:30am the next morning to head for the lookout point on a nearby mountain for sunrise on Bromo. I was all gung ho to walk it, but was a little relieved my sanity was finally restored before it got too late the night before! Outside the guesthouse, locals sold hats and gloves, knowing that people don't come to Indonesia prepared for the freezing wind that sunrise on Bromo brings. I'm not sure where all the people came from, certainly not the sleepy little village I was staying in, but people scrambled for position on the lookout. It was a construction site with unprotected 1 metre holes peppering the area, a dark area filled with people scampering about. I'm sure the locals have ferried more than a couple of wounded tourists down the mountain after going into a hole.

The natural show that was put on was one of the most beautiful sunrises that I have ever seen. The sea of sand was lit up and Bromo shone like a silver ornament. The golden colour that sunrise threw across the area like a wood fire in a living room. The clouds came and went to give us the contrasts of the morning light. It only took about an hour for the clouds to roll in. No doubt it was worth the effort of a 4am start.

I survived my first taste of Java wondering where all the people were. Surely this end of the island must be the quiet end, I thought.