Volcanic Rash

It has certainly been a hectic time since I left Bali a couple of days ago (feels like a week). I caught a bus from Kuta to Probolingo on Java at 5pm on wednesday. I was the only person in the minvan for a long time, and for some reason the driver took an instant dislike to me. All I did was ask three very basic questions - 1) is this the minivan to Probolingo? 2) What time will it arrive? and 3) Can i smoke. By the time I asked the third question (just after he'd literally thrown my rucksack into the boot) he shouted NO in my face. Then when we got in, and just after he'd lit a cigarette, he put on some cracking local music at a ridiculous volume. He looked at me smugly in the mirror, so I thought I'd trump him and put on my ipod. When he next caught my eye in the rear view mirror he then turned up the music even louder, it must literally have been hurting his ears. We then picked up a few indonesian people and he flipped down the dvd screen and put on robin hood (in english with indo subs). I saw him notice me take an interest in the film so he then turned the volume down to a level that it couldn't be heard, he's a boy.

I couldn't get any sleep on this ruddy bus, the driver was a fucking maniac. I think I got about 40 minutes at around 1am when we goton the ferry, which was not only the first ferry i've been on when you're allowed to stay in the vehicle, but they actually MADE you stay on there, safety first like.

This was about as happy as barry got

We arrived in Probolingo at around 4am, and needless to say he dropped me right outside of a travel agent, who immediately shepherded, me into his shop. All I wanted to do was check in to a hotel and get some fricking sleep, and needless to see within twenty minutes I was on the back of a motorbike being taken at about 70km an hour 3,000m in the air to go and watch the sunrise at the active Gunung Bromo volcano range. Well I must say, it was pretty ruddy warm on a motorbike at 3,000m altitude 5am (I was wearing shorts and a vest, luckily I'd grabbed a thin jacket before he practically shoved me out of the shop). My motorbike driver was called barry, and he was also a barrel of laughs.Bazzer, as he probably liked being called, dropped me about 700m from the top of the largest peak in the range and I had to make my way from there. Oh it was a lot of fun in flip flops, could barely see 5m infront of me and people on horses kept coming charging by. I was treading in horse shit every few steps, which got between my foot and my flip flop and made the going even harder. But when I was on the top, wow. Incredible, incredible sight. There is still smoke and steam pouring out of a nearby peak called Bromo, and the sunrise was stunning. I asked an Indonesian girl if she minded taking a picture of me infront of Bromo, and then she asked if I minded someone taking a picture of me with her. I knew what was coming, as it was not the first time. Within about 10 seconds there was a queue of about 20 people waiting to have a photo taken with me. Bizarre, but it does happen, I was stuck at the Petronas Towers in KL for about 20 minutes doing photos!

So once the sun was up I went and found bazzer and we jumped back on the bike to head across to the steamer at Bromo. Every other fucker at the place was in a 4x4, whilst I had bazzer nailing it down ridiculous slopes at 50km an hour. We arrived at the foot of Bromo and he told me that I'd be going back in a van, which we had to meet at 9am. I looked at my watch and it was 8.15am, and I asked him if he was sure this was enough time, as there was a fair bit of ground to cover to get to Bromo, and then what appeared to be a pretty sheer climb. He reassured me that there was indeed plenty of time, but I knew it was going to be a rush, so I pretty much began to leg it. By this time the sun had come up and it was hot, hot hot. In a surprise move I managed to kick a rock and split open my big toe (on my right foot, ayyyye don't believe it). Luckily, and with the healing power of volcanic ash and horse shit at hand, I continued my way up.

The closest I could get

The ascent was steep, and when I got to the top, and due to my crippling fear of heights, the sense that I was going to fall into the volcano crater was never far from my thoughts. As testament to this, I literally crawled to the edge and held my shaking hand over the crater to get a couple of photos. By this point I hadn't had a shower for 24hrs, so the intoxicating smell of sulphur was to my advantage, as it helped to mask my general odour (although that smell could've just been my breath).

I didn't hang around as time was getting on and I didn't want to miss the bus and get stuck there. Bazzer seemed very laid back about it, and smoked one of my burns upon my arrival as I was trying to drop a hint that it was 8.55. SO once he'd found time to finish his burn he drove at breakneck speeds to get back to the bus. I arrived at the van and no one was to be seen, I was perspiring, bleeding, tired and thoroughly drained. I went to the bathroom to clean up my toe and waited for another half hour, still no one. I eventually thought I'd ask a local what time it was, just incase my watch was broken. It turns out that java is in a different time zone to Bali, so I had run up and down a volcano for no apparent reason.

They let me on the minibus and all I wanted to do was sleep. I had already vowed that I wasn't going to make any new friends in my final week, as I wanted the time to myself. Only one other couple got on the bus and I was lying on a seat with my cap over my face so as to not strike up conversation. When I leaned up for a burn I made eye contact and instantly recognised the lad as Tim, who worked in my hostel at Monkey Island in Ko Rong, and whom I spent several nights drinking with. Traveling can be so random like that. No sleep for me.

It's not 5 star, but it's certainly competitive

Part of my motivation for deciding to go to the volcano on that same day was so that I could get the bus to yogyakarta at 11.30am that same morning. Tim and his girlfriend were also in the same minibus, which I'd been told would take 5hrs, but in reality turned out to take 10.5hrs. So what a fooking 36hrs that was, all buses and volcanoes. I have never been so happy to see a shower, that is until I actually saw the shower. We all wanted to keep it cheap, and cheap is what I found. I basically have to stand on the squatter to shower, which is nice.

Something that I've learned about myself, which i'd always perhaps suspected, is that i'm not really that blown away by culture. Don't get me wrong, I like to see new things and learn about different people, but I don't get a kick out of trawling around temples. I love new scenery and assessing the attitudes of the people, but aside from an appreciation of the architecture and accomplishment, I don't really get the draw of temples. Maybe it's something that comes with age. People that I meet along the way rave about these temples, so sometimes, against my better judgement, i'll go and check them out. It's the same routine every time. I walk up towards the entrance, take a photo, shrug my shoulders and leave. Angkor Wat was pretty cool, but after I'd seen the first few temples I lost interest and began to drag my heels (partially because I had a broken foot). I wasn't the only one, Dror and Asi were also fading fast by the third temple, whereas the other three were buzzing. Fortunately, our collective boredom managed to sap the enthusiasm out of the othr three, and we managed to get away shortly after lunch.

I totally get the significance of these places, I just don't get the interest. I see some people running around  like maniacs with their cameras, taking hundreds of photos. I usually just spend my time subtly mocking these people instead of say, looking at a carving of a horse. I can see a real horse if I really want to, which I don't. I suspect many of these people go there, take 3,000 photo's and come away thinking that they're somewhat more cultured now than their next-door neighbour. The difference being, and like their next-door neighbour, I just couldn't give a dam. I've never considered myself to be a cultured person, and taking a few pictures of temples isn't going to change that. I don't even know what the definition of a cultured person is, but I'm pretty sure that I don't know too many.

So tomorrow I'm getting up at 4.30am to ride a motorbike to visit the Borobudur Temples. Hahahahahahahaha.