‘Got it, Siri, I will get up in 5.’ I was talking to the only thing in the room closest to a person since my arrival 15 hours ago. Sometimes it happens you know, when your scarce appearance as a solo traveler in low season does not hit anyone up, solitary like a piece of wood after rain, crisp and trifling. The coconut oil turned solid in the early morning, or midnight? It’s pitch dark outside anyway. I gave up washing my face with it, shivering, disgusted by the clammy room while my skin was cracking off.
Every time before and after my sunrise hike I receive the same question from my dear friends: Why? While this particular one is not identified as a standard self-explanatory magical moment of the day, which I was not very happy about, trembling in extreme wind and a glimpse of hope for 2 hours, I still like the promise of light when night ends. It’s sanguine, like everything’s gonna be okay.
Like my headache later in the afternoon was gonna be okay.
Phone was down to 40%. The sun was out. ‘Just an hour to Mount Bromo’, the lady at the reception said. I reckon, after all the preparations I’ve done for the hike back home, fairly like seeking a boyfriend, always ended up in a bunch of unnecessary constellations, the jacket-less backpack is, to some extent, not as stupid as it seemed. Through the Sea of Sand, a few more refusal to horse-riding invitations, I was just a staircase away from the rim of an active volcano crater, looking up with breathing difficulties, inhaling the toxic sulphur gas and getting a shower of mud. The crater was barely visible at the rim, or the world in general. I took a few snaps and the rest of the day was faintly memorable.
[Pass out in bed]…..Let me catch you up next week with another volcano.
PHOTOGRAPHY – HONG HIU CHING
Location – Mount Bromo, East Java, Indonesia
Ps. Let me know if you want to know more details of my accommodation and the transportation