Bromo Crater

French Journal Day 131 (Travel Diary Day 211)

“Di sana!” replied the driver, pointing into a dusty abyss.

“Di mana?” I asked again. I could barely see 10 metres ahead – the chance of spying Bromo, the volcano, was slim.

Dozens of people either side of us fizzed past on motorbikes, faces covered, skidding left and right under the thick volcanic ash. The scene was almost post-apocalyptic, reminiscent of a Mad Max movie. The driver shook his head and muttered “Berbahaya”.

He was right. The situation was dangerous. Bikers were losing control around us, ending up on the floor, their bikes metres away. Should one of them slip in front of our 4×4, I’m sure they wouldn’t be getting back on.

We arrived at a make-shift car park. Cars and bikes were strewn across the ash desert in no real order. With only the briefest instructions from our driver, we pushed through the thick dust and moved in a direction that we hoped was leading us to the volcano. I was cradling my camera which I’d wrapped in a tee-shirt – the sensor would be almost beyond repair if it wasn’t protected under these conditions.

Silhouettes of people and horses, all moving in the same direction, were the only clue that we were going the right way. More and more litter appeared on the ground the more we walked – a common occurrence at Indonesian landmarks, sadly.

Out of the dust appeared the shadow of what we knew to be our destination. The queue  of people waiting to get to the top was immense and moving very, very slowly. I could just about make out the peak – it wasn’t particularly high. My impatience got the better of me, as is often the case when a photographic opportunity is being impeded by others.

We decided that the designated stairs were for wimps. We climbed the waist-high wall to our right and begin scaling the rocks and ash. While it wasn’t steep, the thick ash refused to provide us with the necessary grip we needed. For every step we made, we sank back half a step. We were encouraged by the cheers and high fives from the onlooking audience. Rachel wasn’t comfortable with the attention. We’d been awake since 3:00am and were sweating and black with dust – not the conditions that a girl usually wants before receiving so much attention.

The morning chill had been replaced by an Indonesian heat we’d never grow accustomed to. The dusty air slowly began to clear the higher we climbed.  10 metres from the top we stopped to take a breath. I turned around and looked down. We were positioned a matter of metres from the thick ash cloud below. It was a surreal sight, but one that I couldn’t capture.

We clawed our way to the top and found a ledge barely one metre wide jam-packed with people. There was no railing or safety barrier, just a straight drop into the black hole. We pulled ourselves to our feet and battled for a good spot.

The crater was immense. We were staring at something that has caused the deaths of 1,000s of people and it was overwhelming. Setting up my tripod and carefully composing the photo was the real challenge. Rachel gripped onto my tee-shirt as I leaned over the edge to take the photo. Then we sat down and took the scene in more fully.

We knew that once we leave Bromo we’d be hitting the road again and having another 3:00am wake up call to catch sunrise at Ijen crater lake. This was now a time of respite, of catching our breath, of truly appreciating the things we had travelled so far to see.

Today’s Photo – Mt. Bromo

The was digitally blended using painted masks and textures, contrast and sharpening was all done with Nik software.  Minimal noise removal was applied to retain as much detail as possible.