We had an amazing time in Borneo, but it was time to move on to Indonesia. First up: Yogyakarta (Yogya), Java. We travelled on the first day of Eid (three days here), and this made the journey rather epic: on the flight from Jakarta to Yogyakarta we looked down on hundreds of firework displays, and a competing dry lightening storm.
As everything in Yogya was closed for the holidays, we opted to head straight to the attractions of the surrounding region…
Gunung Merapi, literally translating to ‘Fire Mountain’, towers to 2930m over Yogya, and is Indonesia’s most active volcano (quite an accolade in a nation with 127 active cones). The last major eruption was in 2010, and is believed to run on a 5 year cycle. Juliet was somewhat apprehensive. In view of it having been described by the LP as “an arduous physical challenge”, we prepared as all good mountaineers do: with two large gin cocktails at a rooftop bar.
The plan was to climb it overnight, reaching the summit at sunrise. We were driven from Yogya to Selo Village (1500m), arriving at midnight. After grabbing an hour’s nap, we set off at 1am with headtorches and what are best described as dense balls of sweet carbs (stale versions of an Eid treat). The incline was approx 60 degrees all the way. Stage 1: paths good, energy levels high. Stage 2: paths criss-crossed by tricksy tree roots, ready to trip us up. Stage 3: large loose rocks. Stage 4: 80 degree incline, loose volcanic ash (1 step forward, 3/4 steps back), a hair-raising traverse causing a sand avalanche beneath our feet. Stage 5: at approximately 5.20am: the summit!
The summit is the edge of a 100m-deep, 500m-wide crater, which constantly belches sulphurous fumes. Gleefully our guide (born and bred in the shadow of the volcano) described in broken English how someone had fallen into the crater 4 months previously, following the fate of somone in 2015 who fell in while attempting a selfie. Error.
The wind was freezing, and the only shelter was provided by a 1 sq. m seismological monitoring box, behind which we failed to shelter, and cursed the wait for dawn. Our feet were dangling into the crater.
Mark bafflingly managed to catch a couple of minutes’ sleep. The guide chain-smoked impatiently. At 5.40am the sun deigned to rise. It was probably the best sunrise either of us had ever seen, but it was bloody freezing. Juliet took photos. Mark tried to keep his hands warm. Hence why the photos on this blogpost are actually the most representative ones we could find from Google: due to technical difficulties, Juliet’s photos will only be revealed once we get back to Blighty. (We think ours are better.)
The light revealed magnificent views of a number of other volcanoes across Java: Merbabu lay one valley away, with another 5 futher in the distance.
Having seen enough sun, we accelerated down the ash slope, letting our feet run away with us: bounding-sliding-bounding-sliding… When the path got firmer it was seriously hard on our knees. Three hours after leaving the summit we were greeted by possibly the best banana pancakes we’d ever had at the lodge in Solo.
Back to town…
Dragons, deet and sweaty feet 