It began as a trickle. A few hardy souls briefly appeared before falling once more back into the ether. Before long, though, it became a deluge. More and more shadowy forms skulked past, some on motorbikes, others on horseback. Most moved on foot, but all held a common purpose.
They sought Gunung Bromo, an active volcano in East Java and one of Indonesia’s truly iconic images. Try as it might, the morning sun could not break through the smoke belching forth from its crater.
Early start
The day had begun in the early hours of the nearby village of Cemoro Lewang. A convoy of jeeps raced across the flatlands. The passengers sat silently, trying to gauge their surroundings as the thick blackness raced by.
Before long, the groups reached the viewing platforms of Mt Pananjakan. An already sizable crowd had gathered. An awed hush fell on the scenes as the otherworldly grandeur of Bromo Tengger Semeru National Park took hold.
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Below lay some of the conservation area’s volcanic inhabitants. They seemed to reach from the swirling fog itself. The collapsed crater of Gunung Bromo lay before dormant Gunung Batok. The former looked in thrall to the larger latter. And in the far distance lay the grandest of the trio: Gunung Semeru, the gigantic cone rearing over the entire landscape.
The constant plume of grey smoke, ash and stones rising from the three peaks reminded visitors of the destructive, and most definitely active, power brooding ‘neath the site.
Cosmic ebbs and flows
A dense mist had already ebbed and flowed around the vast plain. The vapour bestowed upon the area a somnambulant quality, ideally suited to the park’s mystical atmosphere.
As the crowds descended upon the volcanic sand sea, the fog, if anything, grew thicker. Smoke continued to pump from Bromo’s crater. And as it did so, the outline of strange swirling forms quickly grew and reconfigured themselves before vanishing again.
Finally, though, the sun broke through the cloud cover. Despite the clear skies above, a new challenge presented itself in place of the morning’s limited visibility: the unforgiving Indonesian humidity. Soon enough, the exhausting climb up Bromo’s side slowed to a crawl as brows were mopped and water bottles downed in thirsty gulps.
Strange altars
In this state of semi-exhaustion, the landscape took on newer, odder dimensions.
Serene Batok seemed to pulsate gently as it lay covered in casuarina trees, their verdant green swathes at odds with the surrounding shades of white and grey and somehow surviving despite the volcanic ash from its neighbour.
The impression was that of a long-forgotten alien moon, an effect heightened by the smoke pouring from great fissures at Bromo’s base, covering the jagged craters and extending out to the edge of the desolate sand sea.
After the final, lunging climb came to an end, it was easy for the visitors to stand in awe in the presence of these ancient monoliths. Under the gaze of the incessant mid-morning sun, the volcanic trio offered only a glimpse into their ultimately unknowable natural power. The fog, uncomprehending, continued its ebbing gyrations across the park’s floor.
(Spluttering Editor: Java is home to many enigmatic wonders. The Ijen Crater in Banyuwangi is possibly the most diabolical. Observe here.)
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