Indo Intro

Currently,
Reading: "Papillon" (Henri Charriere) and "Tao of Physics" (Fritjof Capra).
Hearing: RHCP's new Double, "Stadium Arcadium", Nick Cave's "Abattoir Blues"

Thoughts: The lil' ghecko staring at me from behind this computer is much more tolerable--even cute--than the rats I've seen so often while eating at markets...open wide.

New Pic Folders: "Indo Intro" and "Volcano Vault"

Lessons: Finally understand, more completely, the beauty of the yin and the yang of chinese thought. Also, never give bus money up front in Indo, yet always negotiate b4 you enter, story 2 follow...

Finally...maybe some were saying this as I left Kota Kinabalu, Sabah Malaysia; however, I wasn't happy to leave...rather happy of what was to come. But first, I had to fly to a town in East Sabah to get an Indonesian Visa so that I could enter the country and stay inside for 2 months; yes, bizarre that this country would want a rich man like me to leave after a month...what ru thinkin?

In uncharacteristic fashion, I received the visa the very day I applied for it; in fact, I got it within 1.5 hours...unbelievable and disappointing at the same time. I had to kill 4 days in a town that no one goes to because there's FK-all-2-do.

@the end of my last post, I mentioned a dutch guy, Anders, who was about to tramp out this gr8 mission...uhh, typical Malay fashion in that our "off-the-beaten" became just "beaten". We bought all our food, the tent, even petrol to help start a fire--we actually slammed a bottle of water (I wouldn't let him pour it out; those of you who know me can totally see this coming from me) and walked up to the pump and "filled 'er up"--and the last step was a simple stop at the Marine Police Hut to register our names. They said some sad story about going x-kilometers out of the way to enter a park, pay a fee, then go x+y kilometers to get to our intended destination...why? Because we were tourists and should have to pay; true story. So there we were, this guy Anders and I--side note: Anders and I had an intense convo on the plane about Indo...he recommended myriad things for me to see/do. Once in Tawau, we shared a taxi, walked to a hotel, had a meal, bought a bunch of things for our trip, returned to the hotel, started marking out a plan, and only THEN...did we actually ask each other our names--in a town called Semporna which is famous for the dive site Sipadan off the coast. Unfortunately, there were no spaces left and we were forced to go to a different island where we snorkeled about. We rented a digi-cam for underwater exploration and got about 10 good pics of the 179 we snapped; those to come later.

After this, we went back to Tawau with the idea that he would book a flight on to his next destino and I would...whatever. So I headed to a little park (Tawau Hills State Park) and was the only foreigner (again) there. It was a nice relaxing place, room all to myself, and I managed a good hike up to 1/2 pt. of a peak because I didn't have time to tackle the whole thing. Unfortunately, no exotic animals were seen, just a waterfall that is found in the "pics". Next morn, wake up 5am, hop in the pre-arranged taxi and move off for the city, jump into an already full mini-bus and off to the airport. I departed 6:55am and arrived in Kuala Lumpur at 13:30.

A long wait at KL's airport and I arrived in Solo City, Java Indonesia. Fortunately, I missed (or it missed me) the tsunami, though those people have been tortured by mother nature and mother govt. alike...tanto lo siento.

It didn't matter that I'd been traveling for over 48 hours str8, I pushed on from Solo to Yogyakarta with an indian girl who knew the area well as she's going to school there. I was extremely fortunate to have brought some Malay money with me cuz there were no ATMs in the "airport", nor along the way to Borobudur.

In fact, the airport scene was hilarious.

I dropped down the stairs and walked into the building and as I was opening the door I saw a man had brought my backpack, with his hands and tossed it through a hole that had been cut out of the wall. It got placed onto the "baggage carousel" which was a 3 foot stand. I attempted to pick it up and for the first time in my life, the guy asked me for my baggage claim number. I laughed as I searched my pockets.

I jumped into a cab with Apotito (Indian girl) and we made for Solo City Center, then I hopped on a bus with her to Yogya where I launched onto another bus to the Towering Temple of Borobudur. This is the Angkor Wat of Indonesia and although I haven't been to Cambodia yet, I will presume that it's nothing short of the more famous monument. Fortunately, most people go to Boro for sunrise or sunset and at 1pm I was one of about 20 people in the whole site...it was so great! Pics also available...uKnow where.

Immediately when I got on the first bus in Solo City, my heart fell back into the romantic mode upon hearing a "band" of brothers twang away on their guitars on the bus; typical S.America that I love; cultural sounds, hardcore artesans trying to fill their bellies, but lamentably, I had no money...literally. The Indo tongue is very similar to the Malaysian language that I had learned in Kota Kinabalu, but there are distinct differences that I have been picking out and changing on notice. Either way, I feel I'm better off than most tourist that walk the streets where I'm writing this from.

From Borobudur, I walked to the "bus station" and grabbed a bemo (mini bus that waits until it's full before it leaves...could be 5 minutes, could be an 2 hours+) and left for a village near the infamous Mt. Merapi. Mt. Merapi had erupted just 2 weeks before I arrived, but was still on notice to "not attempt to climb" which I didn't know until I got to Kaliurang 4 bemoes later (last of which I waited 2 hours). I was quite tired of constant travel and even though my bed was misty and itchy, I ate some food and passed out while reading my guide. I woke to find the guru of volcanoes and he advised me what to do; which was NOT to climb the mtn, rather to visit the lookout point. I did the following day, but the clouds held the clarity I wanted in their fists, and I shook mine at them. If I had had a clear day/early morn, I would have seen glowing lava flowing down burned out ravines with sparks firing their ferocious flames.

I made for a bemo down the mtn. and into Yogya again where I was to catch the nighttrain (non-alcohol)to Surabaya (E. Java) where I'd try to make my way towards Probolingo and on to a glorious volcano called Mt. Bromo--pics are seen on my pic-site--and was blessed with clear days and a dear dawn that provided picturesque views from atop a mtn. less known. In the background of those pictures looms another volcano that spews sulphur ever 10-15 minutes, Mt. Semeru. I was to climb it 2 days later.

I met another dutch guy at the train station and we ended up sharing a room together to cut costs, which I've done more than I thought I would. He was up to doing the dawn climb to see Mt. Bromo but not for Semeru, which was a good thing now that I've climbed it. We set off for Mt. Bromo proper that afternoon and conquered it in just 30 minutes from Cafe Lava where we were staying. A still beautiful day for photos, as you'll C if U have the time.

--maybe this is a good stopping point if your short of time; come back to this story l8r--

I rented a tent after talking to some locals about how to do the Daunting Semeru which happens to be Java's largest Volcano/Mountain at ~3700 meters, and set off on an ojek (motor bike) at 5am the following morning. It was dark as I gripped my lightened pack between the driver and myself; we were wiggling between the sand as the sun started to come up. Our movement wasn't unlike that of a snake for about an hour across what's known as the Sea of Sand, which lies in the valley of the crater that holds 3 volcanoes seen in my photos.

As I kept reaching back for the tail bar, I finally noticed the incipient canvas that was about to be painted by the wondrous daystar; it was inexplicable in that setting. We climbed up the steep road and somehow the people had paved (cement blocks) the rim of the crater. It was phenomenal to be riding the naturally formed puckered lip while my eyes beheld such colors. We dipped away, found a corner and I said goodbye to the sunrise-strange.

We zipped thru several villages where the locals were up and about readying for work (6am)and every one of them held a look of either curiosity, amuzement, or elation that was soon followed by a wave and some vocal cast into the wind that would die b4 it reached my ears. I arrived at Ranu Pani, dropped 6500RP, signed my name, downed 2 cups of good ol' Java coffee str8 from the source, had me a bowl of fried noodles (typical breaky), was handed a note of permission, told to be very careful, then I headed down the road.

The commencement was wonderful, the feeling of a pack on my shoulders again, everything I (thought I) needed, fresh air, blue sky, locals waving me to a successful journey; it was all I could hope for. It was the first time since NZ since I had that feeling. This carried me for the first 6km in high spirits. In just 2 hours, I found Lake Kumbolo where there was a refuge for people to stay...some refuge! It looked like a couple pieces of wood thrown together but just decent enough to look good if you were caught in a storm. The color of the lake was magnificent from above and the feeling of a monkey climbed up my spine as I pulled myself from the brush and out to this surprising vista.

I had a quick stop there, and used the water to splash away the nasty filth that had coated me since 7:15 that morning. I originally thought that the vegetation was just coated with dew, and every time I would brush a branch out of the way, a "mist" would jump and hold into the air as I walked into it...no biggie right?!? In fact, all that dew, was volcanic dust with which I would get intimately acquainted throughout the next 40 hours. I couldn't see out my glasses, my wool socks looked like I was carrying 2 dirty sheep clinging to my ankles, my shorts and shirt were just grey, and my hair...well, I've seen into the future.

After my quick wash, I fed myself and downed some water that was well needed in the heat of the forest. I climbed up a pass and over and met a group of 9 people with guide coming back; they all looked exhausted. Actually I have sentiments about some of the guys who couldn't even look me in the eyes, but I'll save that tirade 4 my journal. I muttered a few broken indo-phrases to the guides and was on my way with a smile..."how tired they all seem...rookies!" I would eat that l8r.

Another 2 hours of good paced hiking and I found Kalimati which was a camping site that had a refuge that made the first one look several stars. My feet were quite tired, so I shrugged the pack, took some of my nuts, and walked about the campground a bit. I wasn't sure how far Arcopodo (the last campground b4 the ascent of the peak) was, but I hoped it wasn't far as the heat was beating down. I gulped more water and was on my way.

An hour l8r, of strenuous tree-root-step climbing I found a local trying to start a fire at Arcopodo. I said hello to him, and he gave me a look of confoundment; where's your friend, he asked in Indo, then he followed with, "this is arcopodo." I know...I bloody hope so...I told him. I dropped the pack and started setting up my 3 man tent that weight 3 times what I would've liked. It was a cinch to get up, but the door zipper was broken and the vestibule's zipper was also in ill funcioning order.

I will say that all along the way, the views to Semeru weren't spectacular due to mtns. being in the way, or clouds, or trees, or some other obstruction. I didn't get many shots of the volcano, but I did manage a few. What I noticed more than anything is that it constantly spewed its boiling gas. I would see much more of this l8r, and you'll notice copious pics that might look the same, but in fact are all different belches/eruptions.

Here I was in Indo, a country that had been so pissed on--town in Sulawesi completely under rain, an earthquake near Jakarta, another tsunami very near Yogya, a ferry of passengers (with tourists) that sunk of the coast of sumatra, rebellion in random parts, mt. merapi erupting and killing over 3000 people and forced hundreds of thousands to evacuate--and what was I to do? I wanted to climb the highest volcano in Java that is known for it's consistent billowing. Don't think I'm crazy though...I may have been the only one on the mtn that day, but there was about 30 indonesians coming to do it the next day.

I planned to possibly ascend Semeru that afternoon, thinking I could 'run' up it in an hour or more...sheeyu'ut! Fortunate 4 me, I was a bit too tired and rather wrote in my journal some of the things that had passed. I feel asleep 4 a bit, woke to grub down some food, then fell off again with the idea to wake for a sunrise climb so typical in SE Asia.

I didn't hear my alarm and ended up waking at quarter to 6 which was just after the colors start coming 2 life. I was gutted. 4the first time, I would be on a mtn alone and finally be able to enjoy the sunrise alone...and I slept in...lazy git! I shoved my things in my day pack and flew out of my tent peeved. I cussed myself for about 20 minutes until I got to the local guy who greeted me "morning". The day b4 he told me that he was doing something spiritual there, and that he lived in a temple across the valley. I thought, "right-on" and kept setting up camp; however, this day I had a strange feeling. I kept climbing until I got out of the trees at the start of the scree (loose volcanic dust/rock that SUCKS to step into). I recalled at that moment, reading something about people being robbed in the campground near that area, and then all these scenarios came into play; I had left my wallet in the tent. I wanted to climb up the mtn in peace and not have to be worrying about anything, so I decided to bite the dust and descend to my tent. I didn't realize how far I had climbed until I kept going and going and thought I had passed camp, then I saw him and he asked why I hadn't gone up. I said I wanted 2 eat first. I hopped in the tent, ate a piece of stale bread, stuffed my wallet in my bag, and started for it again.

Finally, I got back up the original 20+ minutes and started the scree step. From the first sight, it didn't look like it would take long at all. Also, I had noticed the day b4 as I approached it that it looked quite manageable in an hours time; I had either underestimated the beast or overestimated myself...a little of both I think. The climb up the slope took 4ever...it seemed. I climb with good speed and it only really helps me if the steep inclines are in spurts; not for 2.5 hours without relent.

If you've never climbed scree before, let me tell ya: every step that you take up will either get you a tiny bit further up towards the peak or more likely a bit further down/away from it. Actually, almost every 3 intended steps up resulted in less than 1 normal step up. It is sooo frustrating to keep stepping up and up and up and find yourself just a fraction further, and worse further down than you started. This mtn was the worst, in this regard, of all the volcanoes I've climbed. I usually find my way out of the scree and end up taking an "easier" route. With Semeru, there was no easier route. If you tried to get on 'stable' rock/dust, it would collapse and be very dangerous because of the inclination of the mtn.

When I did stop for breath, I managed to look up a few times and see the beginning of a mushroom cloud that had just been spewed from the mouth; this kept me going. Of course, I never actually considered giving up, but the thought of going half way up passed my mind and I shouted at the mtn something I chose not to disclose here. The main thing that prevented true motivation was that the sky was full of clouds and I knew my views would be less than desired. In fact, I wanted to see over to Bali (island east of Java) and on a clear day you can see its volcanoes which is quite a sight; half way up I couldn't even see the sea. On the other side, I noticed a few volcanoes that were just above the clouds that were setting in. Sadly, it never got better.

I did finally make it and by the time I saw the anticlimatic pile of rocks, my left knee was crushing me with pain which was followed by a stinging tendon in my right ankle; my feet too were victims of tiny rocks teasing my blisters to open. When I was on top, I was blessed with 2 eruptions that scared the brown halfway down my leg. It was so different from anything I've known; the dust that was flying about...I couldn't leave anything open for a second unless I wanted to have it coated with dust--particularly bad with electronic instruments.

The silence though...deafening; no birds, no wind (on the slope) nothing but the occasional squeaking of my nalgene bottle clinging to my daypack. This silence is what made for a dramatic 'boom' when the sulphur did show itself.

Now 4 the way down...what took me 2.5 hours up plus the 20 min from camp took only 30 minutes down...well, plus a lot of scrapes, many foul words, 5 kilos of volcanic rock in each boot, and more pain in my knee and ankle. I made it camp, packed her up, and set off down the even steeper roots towards the open. I was quite worried about my knee cuz it just felt so..."on its last leg". Another very big concern was the fact that I only had 1/2 liter of water to get back; it took 3 times that to get me to the camp, and I was going to be returning in the full heat of the sun for the entire hike out. Both of my concerns were well founded, but I still managed to make it back.

I won't say that I was a happy camper--the pain was at times unbearable and I felt like an old man who would've been called some derogatory femenine anatomical 'p'art and my thirst only swayed my focus from the left knee. On the other hand, the birds were singing to me, the day was beautiful, and the floral aroma the entire way was heavenly. It should've been a glorious return to Ranu Pani. I found a pack of Juicy Fruit in my shorts that I rationed--1 piece every 30 minutes which was 25 minutes more than juicy can fruit--which helped me stroll in. When I finally did arrive on juicy fumes, I had one swallow of water left, and my knee was aching the same, but my feet were simply munted (as the english say).

I found lodging at an old man's homestay. I was so exhausted when I reached his doorstep, but when this old guy shook my hand with such alacrity, it sincerely spurred me to a manageable state. We chatted over the fire while my bath water was warmed (first time in all indo and of all places, the most preferred), his wife handed me a cup of hot tea, then I washed off all that...that...uhh, filthy dust, and ate a wonderful meal and passed away like the old man I felt.

The next day, I refused to pay a ridiculous $10US to save myself from 4 hours of punishment from the sun while crossing the Sand of Sea in the blistering heat...what a cheap bastard I am. I think that might have been the end of me, because for the next 4 days, my knee said "that's it mate...you won't get another climb outta me...you shoulda learned." This really makes me worry (still) because the string of hot mountains in this country is so beautiful that you just want to climb them all. My feet were simply saying, your stupid! I had to shuffle down the street (even today) like a man who escaped a "home".

I forced myself on a bus towards Bali which was soooo far away at the time. It took me forever just to get down the bloody mtn town where I returned the tent, etc. because the bemo wouldn't fill up. I missed the train I wanted to catch, and ended up going to the bus station. I bought a ticket for much less than most bkpackers pay and was proud of myself. That was until 5.5 hours later when I was still waiting for the stupid thing. It never showed up. There was a French/Algerian there as well who was offered the same "transfers" as I was with a less than humorous refund. He ended up going to the police station and I waited it out. I ended up shouting at him in front of the entire terminal; this was magnified by the fact that Indo is a muslim country and most people are very reserved...I wasn't in the mood for reservation, beings that mine wasn't kept. He raised his arm with his fist clinched just 3 times. As my words jumped from my mouth and echoed the terminal walls, the crowd grew and grew. He said something tough like, "you hungry...I hungry too...les'go!" I simply, but firmly said I wanted my money because he lied to me...I payed money for a bus and the bus never showed up. After a big scene, he ended up paying me almost all of it back, then offered to give me another bus that wasn't air-conditioned...I wasn't about to pass another bill back to that...to him.

I went outside with the feeling of defeat for I would have to sit out the night for the train at 5am. I had been thru too much to sleep on a stupid station bench, but 5am was just 6 hours away. Fortunately, a man came up and started chatting with me. I ended up on a bus--economy class with locals only--that was joke filled with boxes, sweaty men, crying babies, dusty seats, and found my way to the back seat with my heavy pack thrown up on my seat. I tolerated it like a champ and made it all the way to Denpasar Bali where I got a bemo up to Ubud...where I'll post this from.

Ubud is a cultural city that could offer much more than I'll see because I've spent 2 days mending my feet and knee. The feet are on the way to recovery after I popped a few blisters...the knee is still very shaky and will threaten me should I do that again...I will.

On the bright side...my buddy brian from my job in ATL a year ago will be flyin' in 2morrow and we'll be raisin' fists of our own in delightful bliss. The next 6 weeks involve more volcanoes, another friend to meet, a long sea journey, and some 5-9 islands before I have to dip out of this very unique country.

It's just 17 seconds, but when I was up there it seemed like minutes had passed...copy it, paste it, check it:

http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=-2019614209253492476&hl=en