Mt. Ijen

On the 6th we left our homestay after another breakfast of toast, “muzestrontjes”, or chocolate sprinkles in decent English, and mandarin to catch our train to our final destination on Java: Banyuwangi. Here we were awaited once more by our driver, who turned out to be our host for the next two evenings. We withdrew some cash from the ATM and checked in in our decidedly smaller and less enjoyable room. The oppressive and standing heat in the room was forcefully blown around by a noisily ventilator and the nice pictures we saw on the booking website of what we assumed was the attached restaurant were actually taken from the one around the corner. Over diner we contemplated moving our departure to Bali on day forward, but in the end we just stayed and made the best of it. Diner was a bit of a disappointment though, since the strawberry smoothie was actually just a chemical attempt to approximate the taste of fresh ones, and the chicken had a wee bit too much fish sauce in it. At least for my diner. Véro’s was in her opinion not bad at all: nasi goreng and chicken with a lemon & mint drink.

Once more we went to bed early, since this would be the earliest wake-up call of them all: at midnight our tour guide would already pick us up. Still groggy from lack of sleep, we piled into the van at the agreed ungodly hour, picked up four more joiners from the ferry terminal, and drove towards our destination of Mt. Ijen. Arriving at the base, we took some tepid coffee and cake and off we went, with another guide, to the top. After an arduous two hours hiking up, we had to single-file with loads of other tourists, descending back down into the crater. Luckily, we were provided with gas masks, because once we reached the bottom, via quite treacherous half-steps and rocks, the smell and fumes of the sulphur mine were almost too much to bear. I was more or less used to it from my extensive periods on board dredgers, but for Véro the smell of hydrogen sulphide was overwhelming. I don’t really understand why they still do allow visitors in the crater. Or, for that matter: allowing the miners to work in the conditions we actually saw them. No gas masks, only shorts, T-shirt and slippers. Carrying baskets of 40 to 70 kg up to the rim, earning a meagre 900 IDR per kg. Or 0.06 EUR. We actually felt a bit ashamed to be there. Certainly, because that famous “blue fire” was almost invisible behind the sulphide clouds and there was no space nor inclination to sit down and enjoy it. The circumstance in the crater were too harsh for that. Disappointed, we made the trek back up. And oh boy, what a difference. The sunrise over Ijen, its crater and the crater lake, with in the distance other volcanic peaks, was just stunningly splendid. If we can give one tip: go to Ijen’s crater rim for sunrise, but don’t descend. It’s not worth the extra effort and the discomfort. After taking loads of pictures, we retraced our steps back to the base camp, enjoyed another coffee and piled back into the van, minus our two Spanish compatriots whom were crazy enough to continue to Mt. Bromo that same day. In hindsight, we were very happy to have done both in four days instead of two. We stopped for Indonesian breakfast at a coffee plantation and also stopped at a small and luckily not crowded waterfall, where we gladly cooled down our feet in the cool pool below the falls.

Around 11 AM, we returned to our homestay, and we lazily hang around on the terrace, not doing much, not feeling great neither, after all those early risings, irregular and not always that good or too much food and the travelling. Luckily, our next days promised to bring some relaxing, as we would be off to Bali!