I left Surabaya and headed east. Riding a motorcycle in and out of Indonesia’s second largest city was glorious. I treasured every second, especially the many seconds spent driving through the dirt on the side of the road in order to circumvent a retarded traffic jam.
Or the seconds spent dodging a head on collision because the truck driver coming from the opposite way decided that I am on a motorcycle and could not possibly be stupid enough to maintain my rightful place in a lane specifically designated for people driving in my direction of travel. After a couple of hours I arrived in Cemoro Lawang, a tiny mountain village in eastern Java.
Have I mentioned the volcanoes? Thank you, sir. May I have another? This time it was Mt. Bromo (2392m) in Bromo-Tengger-Semuru National Park. It’s so breathtaking you’ll think you’re asthmatic.
You might look at some of those pictures and think I transported myself back a couple of million years. Well, I didn’t. I did not have the luxury of such a fantasy as I had a couple of hundred tourists chirping in my ear. The twenty four radio antennas perched on the top of Mt. Penanjakan (our sunrise viewing location) did nothing to support the illusion either. I hate people caaauuuse people are annoying.
It was not such a fruitful experience as the clouds had rolled in by then and the high position of the sun stripped the area of color. But I think I will stick around for one more night and take another look tomorrow. I am not quite ready to leave just yet. Most folks pop into town in the evening, start the tour at 4am, and are gone by 9:30 am. Fast food tourism. I like to linger and savor. I’m a lingerer and a savorer.