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Sunday 31 August 2008

the smokes of mounts Bromo and Semeru


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Since I landed in Bali, a postcard-like picture constantly comes back to the point of haunting my curiosity. A curiosity that changed into an obsessional desire which would be defined as following: it it would appear to be a chaotic piling up of several perfectly-proportioned volcanoes set down an imposing caldeira. The ground of this caldeira would be covered by a sea of sand and fumaroles would rend its airs. To round off the dream, an ocean of clouds would encircle this cauldron the rising sun would stroke with its benevolent rays. I lived this dream.
The caldeira is called Tengger and the volcanic protagonists, Bromo, Batok, Kursi and Semeru. The nature within its complete and utter splendour. Departure from the village of Semero Lewang, we get up at 4 o'clock and walk down the caldeira. We tread on the sea of sand in the misty night up to the base of the Bromo. 253 steps complete this short stroll and hurl us onto the ridge of the crater. The dawn clears up the dark haze and the first shapes loom. We have left the Earth for an express journey to the moon. We walk around the crater which continually ejects its noxious fumes. In the distance, the Semeru splutters at regular intervals. A cotton-wool-like cloud which leaks from the tormented bowels of the Earth. Our loop ends in front of the staircase. Unique human-print appearance in a land that is not dedicated to him.

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After experiencing the volcanic activity from inside, it's this postcard-like panorama described and admired so many times we want to reach. A very goal as soon as we wake up it summarizes with this short sentence: « be at the sunrise from the Penanjakan ». From the top of this hill, the nature gives us a good surprise modeling a new form of magic. Visual perfection which overshadows all the other senses. For a few hours, our eyes soak in everything. Attempting to describe something indescribable. Engraving something impalpable. The mounts of the last day didn't move, just the view angle changed. And what we lived? A sensory blaze of glory.

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Friday 29 August 2008

the workers of sulphur


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End of our Balinese adventure, most of the family goes back to France to enjoy the last days of summer on the French Riviera. I move on to Java with my parents. A short journey by bemo up to Gilimanuk before getting on the ferry which links the island of Java in 45 minutes. Transition from an island to another, radical change of culture.
Our first stage will be the Kawah Ijen, a volcano whose crater shelters an emerald-hued lake. This volcano was made famous by Nicolas Hulot and the Kraft couple for its mind-boggling colours and the sensation that the man is not welcome in the heart of this mountain.

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The Kawah Ijen is the main extraction area of the Indonesian sulphur. The deposit of this yellowish substance is located inside the crater itself. Wrapped by a stifling sulphurous cloud, we walk downhill to meet it. On the way, no machine, just few men carrying 2 baskets they balance on one of their shoulders. An appalling work that begins a little bit further downhill, near the emerald lake. Pipes provide steam which liquefies the sulphur. The orangy juice finishes to solidify in a yellow and compact slab. A worker breaks off the ground to get some transportable fragments he loads into the basket. A mere dirty piece of linen covers his nose and mouth by way of respiratory protection. Around the sulphurous mound, a suffocating, whitish vapour gives an otherworldly feeling. Each porter loads his parcel and starts a slow ascent of the crater then a walking downhill. The suffering distorts their faces, the disastrous effects of the day-after-day inhaled gas can be heard in the hoarse cough of these courageous workers. More than 2 hours to bring back the booty down of the volcano. Each hero carries a minimum of 80 kilos, twice a day. The kilo is sold 400 Rupiah which represents a one-Euro gain for 35 kilos brought down! The modern times of hard labour. Scant consolation, the scenery is a visual pleasure. Supernatural colours. A dense and mythical smoke which, as a jewel case, hides the beauty of its bowels. An inhospitable land where the man hasn't his place but the economical realities drive the neediest to enlist in the volcanic adventure. And with 80 kilos on a deformed shoulder by so many journeys, they are genuine heroes in my opinion. And each time I'll eat some granulated sugar, I'll think about these smiling faces the life hasn't blessed because among its uses, the sulphur serves to refine the sugar.

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Monday 26 November 2007

Chromatic delirium on the Tongariro Crossing

All the hiking buffs (tramping in the New Zealand language) arranged to meet here for certainly the finest one-day trek we can enjoy on the kiwis' land. During the Tongariro crossing, several choices are possible to extend the path such as the ascent of the Ngauruhoe volcano. We'll opt for climbing this almost-perfectly-conical volcano.
In the morning, we take the shuttle from the National park village to go to the beginning of the route. We get in the lands of the Mordor. A few years ago, within this barren and dark area, Peter Jackson settled the headquarters of the nasty orks for his trilogy "the Lord of the ring". Debris of volcanic rock strew the uneven scenery of the trek. Everything is only dark red and black.

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We turn on the right to walk the steep slope of the volcano. Our feet sink into a mixture of mud and pumice. The sun burns. Droplets of sweat stand out in beads on the face. We climb with a lot of difficulty, our steps are so uncertain on the unstable parts. After an one-hour effort, we reach the summit. Smokes escape from the puffy stones. The crest outlines the snow-covered crater where we peer the lunar panorama from. A 360° mind-boggling vista. Sterilized and dark mountains suddenly welcoming and intoxicating.

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We walk down through the scree. An acrobat exercise to avoid falling down. A jealous climbing hiker insults us shouting that our stupid games trigger off avalanches of stones. Sheer envy of our refined style. I sit down to keep on going down a sheet of snow. The speed overwhelms me. The 2 hands and 2 feet aren't enough to stop me and I fininsh into the rocks. I'm all right with only a sprain at a finger and a painful ankle. But I perhaps broke the record of the fastest descent of the volcano!
A the bottom of the volcano, we empty all we collect during the descent from our shoes and we start again the normal path of the Tongariro crossing. A gentle slope our tired bodies take it and suddenly forget in front of the spectacle which faces us.
A red and black monument, a sort of volcanic, rocky grottoe and 3 lakes with colours that only nature can give. The science will explain these are deposits of sulphur. Our eyes are far from all these rational explanations. They dip again into this other world we don't want to leave any more. Every trekker walks in slow motion or stops, the faces twisted by the stunning beauty.

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We decide to have the lunch on this unreal ground. A little bit of rice before starting the long descent to the valley. The multi-hued show is behind us. Our minds seem ethereal, relieved by so many beautiful things.

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The Tongariro Crossing : let you write it down in the page "must do in New Zealand".

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