For those of you that are interested, here is another account of a couple of memorable days when I was backpacking in Indonesia this year. This time, my story comes from the island we all know and love - Bali.
Some Tooth-filing, a few Shots of Arak and a Sunrise to Remember
It was difficult to get any sleep in the back of Jacky's car that morning with Bob Marley blaring out of the stereo at full volume. It was 5am, we were stuck behind a dustman's cart in Poppies 1 and not moving anywhere fast. My friend Leanne and I had been in Indonesia for less than a week, and we were both excited and slightly nervous about what lay in store for us that day. Since all those evenings poring over every guidebook we could find in the library at home, one of our missions had been to climb a volcano in Indonesia. Despite my last minute attempt to get in shape before leaving for this trip, my fitness was not at its peak (surprisingly my four visits to the gym had not done the trick). Still, I was determined to give it a go.
We had met Jacky on Kuta Beach and had been excited when he told us that he could arrange the volcano climb for us, drawing pictures in the sand of the various peaks that we could feasibly attempt. We decided to go for the sunrise climb of Mount Batur, which, Jacky told us, was not too difficult, and promised breathtaking views. When can we go? we asked. Jacky told us that he had to attend a wedding the next day at his village in Kintamani - we could either wait a couple of days until he returned from the ceremony, or leave at 5 the next morning and go with him to the wedding, then climb the volcano the following day. We would have to leave early, he explained, as he had to help with preparations for the big day. Excited at the prospect of going to a Balinese wedding, and eager to get on with the climb, we arranged to be picked up early the next morning.
So here we were, stuck behind a rubbish cart, listening to Buffalo Soldier. Eventually the cart moved on and the drive to Kintamani was a clear one. A couple of hours later, we could see Mount Batur clearly on the horizon and it looked bigger than ever. Jacky pointed out his village in the valley at the bottom of the volcano, and we slowly drove down the windy roads towards it.
Eventually we arrived, and felt a bit nervous as we got out of the car and followed Jacky down the road towards the centre of the village. We went into a compound where men, women and children everywhere seemed to be preparing for the celebrations. Women sat on the floor wrapping rice parcels, or stood around helping with make up and costumes. The men rushed carrying things between the compound and the back yard, where most of them seemed to be gathered, apparently cooking satay and other dishes. Children and dogs ran about everywhere, and everyone was dressed in traditional costume. Standing there in our Western outfits of t-shirts and cropped trousers, clutching our small backpacks, we felt a little out of place. Immediately though people gestured to us to sit down on a seat at the side of the compound; a lady offered us coffee and tea, and when we said no, at least two others came to ask the same question. It seemed that most people did not speak English, apart from those that worked in Kuta and had come back for the celebration. A girl of around our age who had an adorable little boy of about four came to speak to us. She had worked in Kuta before her son was born and could speak English well. We soon realized after a few minutes of hearing about who was married to who in the village and who was looking for a young wife, that she must be the village gossip. Another lady came to give us a big plate of small, different flavoured rice parcels wrapped in banana leaves, which were delicious.
After a long time, Jacky emerged and told us that we should go and have a look in the back yard. We had heard (from the gossip of course) that a pig sacrifice had been going on there before, and we were quite glad that this now seemed to be over. Apart from us, there were no women in the back yard and we felt a bit out of place just wandering round. Soon, someone told us to sit down, and so we sat on the floor. Everyone then (even some women) came into the yard and we were each handed big basket-like bowls full of food - rice, sauce, pieces of meat of various shapes and kinds, and krupuk. Leanne had not long started to eat meat (she has been a vegetarian for years), and the knuckles of fat balanced on our dishes did not look the most appetizing, but we both knew that it would be rude to refuse. We started to eat the food with our hands like everyone else was doing, and although it tasted good, we couldn't help but think about all of the flies that we had seen sitting on the food as they were preparing it earlier. Still, we crossed our fingers and hoped for the best. Everybody seemed to be pleased that we were tucking in, and although we did not manage to finish everything, they appeared to be more than happy that we had eaten with them. A lady seller that I have known for a few years on Kuta beach spotted me then, and rushed over to say hello. Everyone seemed to be so friendly; although we obviously stuck out like a sore thumb, everyone tried to make us feel at home.
After lunch, we went back into the compound, where a tooth-filing ceremony was about to start. Four young girls and boys of around seventeen were dressed in the most beautiful and ornate costumes of gold and red. They all wore heavy make up, and big head dresses. We stood and watched from a distance at first, but then locals ushered us forward and we got a better view. A priest seemed to be blessing the youngsters with holy water. Most of the villagers were not paying much attention, rushing around the compound seemingly more concerned with preparing for the celebrations of the wedding that was going to go on later in the day. The tooth-filing ceremony itself went on in a private room that we could not enter, but just seeing the start of the ceremony, the blessing and the beautiful costumes was something in itself.
Unfortunately, we did not see the wedding ceremony, which went on at the temple in the village. I think we would have been out of place there, and so we waited in Jacky's room and small garden while it went on. After what seemed like an eternity - mosquitoes filled the room so we sat in the garden and both got frazzled in the mid-day sun - Jacky returned and took us to some nearby hot springs at Toya Bungkah. I visited several hot springs during this trip - some in Flores, Lovina, and also Thailand - and all were very different. As these were the first hot springs that Leanne and I had ever visited, neither of us quite knew what to expect. I think we probably expected something a little more natural looking than what we found here - essentially a swimming pool filled with the spring water - but nevertheless it was lovely and warm and the views across Lake Batur were very nice.
Afterwards, Jacky took us to check in to the hotel that we were to stay in that night. He had actually offered to put us up in his room in the village, but considering that it was very small and also had to be shared by his wife, we did not want to impose (not to mention the mosquito problem). The Surya Hotel in Kedisan was cheap, clean and very friendly with wonderful views out across the lake from the balcony. One of the locals, Nyoman, that worked at the hotel immediately offered to walk us down to the lake edge, which only took a few minutes. We felt the water and relaxed while he showed us some of his paintings (the real reason for his eagerness to show us the lake I suspect!), which were actually very good. After a little haggling, Leanne bought two small pictures and we all wandered back up to the hotel. Jacky was still around, seeming to know all of the guys working at the hotel (surprisingly quite a few considering how empty the hotel was). They were all sat in the outside reception area chatting and eating monkey nuts. We joined them, one went off to buy some arak, and we joined them in a shot or two. One of the staff cooked us up some nasi goreng and brought it out in baskets for us to eat sitting on the reception desk. Everyone was so friendly, and we spent a couple of hours out there chatting, learning some Bahasa Indonesia (my first few words) and helping the boys to improve their English. Around 9 o'clock, Jacky had to go to the wedding party, and we went up to bed, knowing that we would have to be up to climb the volcano in just a few hours.
Sure enough, the staff were knocking on our door to get us up at 3am, and Jacky arrived (wrapped head to toe in a duvet and tired from the party a few hours earlier no doubt) to drive us to the base of Mount Batur. We were introduced to Wayan, who was to be our guide for the trek, and started walking at 4am in the pitch black. We were armed with torches, big bottles of water in out little backpacks and all had jumpers on as it was quite chilly. Wayan set off at quite a pace, and Leanne (having visited the gym a few times more than me) was keeping up quite well. The walk was quite rocky but not too steep at this stage, so I just kept quiet and tried to keep up. A man called Nyoman was also walking with us, and both he and Wayan helped us over particularly difficult or slippery parts of the walk. It started to get steeper and steeper, and we were still going quite fast in my opinion. Eventually, I had to give in and ask to stop for a rest. Really, I should have done this much earlier, as by this point I really was knackered out and was having problems breathing - probably a little because of the altitude, but mainly because I had pushed myself a bit far. Wayan could see that I was struggling, and said that we would carry on slowly. However, as soon as we carried on walking (well, it was more like climbing now) I got completely out of breath again. I had to keep stopping, and my breathing was getting worse - I think I had worked myself up into a bit of a panic to be honest, and started to feel sick. I hadn't expected to struggle this much, and I knew that the climb was getting more and more difficult as we went. I started to wonder if I was really going to be able to make it to the top, and so did Wayan. He was worried about my breathing and suggested that if I wanted to go down, Leanne could continue up with Nyoman until they found the next party led by his brother, and he would come down with me. As I stood there in the pitch black darkness half way up a volcano, I really was in a dilemma. I told Leanne that I thought she should carry on, and that I would go down, but she didn't want to go on alone and said that we would either go up together or she would come down with me. I did not want to spoil her chance of making it to the top, but really felt awful and doubted that I would make it. Wayan said that we could try to make it a little bit further, and that he would carry my bag, so I agreed to try. We went slowly, and it started to get really very steep, slippery and rocky. Wayan was absolutely brilliant and quite literally pulled me up the volcano. We kept stopping for a breather, and Wayan kept saying ‘only ten more minutes', ‘only six more minutes', ‘only two more minutes to the top'. In fact, he was lying and it took a lot longer than his estimations, but at least it made me feel better! Nyoman and Wayan had to help us over the last big rocks and I really pushed myself on the last stretch, determined to make it after coming so far. Finally, at 6.15, we reached the top, just in time for sunrise. We were all completely wiped out at this point, but felt amazing having conquered Mount Batur.
We had photographs with Wayan and Nyoman at the top of the volcano, and sat down at a little hut with a few others that had made the trip to a breakfast of steamed banana rolls and boiled eggs. As an orange glow started to appear on the horizon, all we could see was clouds like a huge blanket of cotton wool below us. Slowly, the sun emerged over the clouds and the colours were magnificent. Oranges, yellows and reds filled the sky behind the black silhouette of Mount Agung in the distance. Between the puffs of white cloud below we could see the deep blue of Lake Batur and the little village that we had been at the day before. The entire scene was breathtaking and it felt even more gratifying because of what a struggle it had been to make it up this high. It really did feel like an achievement.
It was then that we realized exactly why Nyoman had accompanied us. He offered to sell us a drink, and asked if we could buy it now so that he could make his way down. We got a Sprite, which was expensive at 20,000 rupiah a bottle, but we really felt that we couldn't say no considering that this was the whole reason that Nyoman had climbed the volcano. He had helped us to climb the more difficult parts, despite not being a guide, and had make the two hour trek merely to sell us a drink and then walk down again. We did feel a little guilty, but there was nothing we could do but buy a drink, say thank you and good bye as he started his descent.
After taking lots of photos, we had recovered a little and were ready to climb a little higher to reach the peak above us and have a look around the crater rim. Here we saw some monkeys that live there, and some natural steam and water dripping from a geyser. Big streams of steam could be seen wafting towards the sky from the crater itself, which seemed huge as we peered over the edge. We looked at the views from different points. All were stunning. It really was a surreal experience to be up at the top of a volcano above the clouds and the lake and all the little villages below, and actually quite hard to take in.
As the sun began to warm things up we took off our jumpers and started a long and slow descent. We were now able to see exactly how far we had come and how far we had to go back. It looked so far that I was actually thankful that we had had to climb in the dark - if I had been able to see the volcano ahead of me on the way up, I would have never had the courage to struggle on to the top! In a different way, the climb down was more difficult than on the way up. It was not tiring, but it was extremely slippery, and my trainers were not gripping the loose rocks very well. I fell several times, once quite badly, cutting my forearm and grazing my hands.
Eventually, we arrived at the bottom where Jacky was waiting to take us for a hearty breakfast at the hotel. We were both exhausted, and it was only 9 in the morning. We had also planned to go white water rafting that lunch time, and didn't quite know if our legs would now be up to it! We drove back to the hotel, and Jacky stopped so that we could take a good picture of the volcano that we had just climbed in the distance. It seemed unbelievable that we had been standing on the edge of the crater just a couple of hours before.
As a matter of fact, we did manage to go rafting and climb the hundreds of steps at the end, although I have to say that my legs were quite literally wobbling all of the way. I actually felt like jelly! The day was rounded off with a Bintang at Suyit's Bar on Kuta Beach, and a surprisingly good sunset that almost matched the sunrise that we had seen just twelve hours earlier. It had been a fantastic couple of days in which we saw so much. Needless to say, we both slept very well that night.