Stars over the Bay, Sunrise over the Crater

Making my way around the south of Bali I came to to fishing port of Padangbai,
looking for someplace cheap to stay. A block away from the water, I found a
little place striving for excellence. They showed me some fancier rooms going
for 10,000 rupiah each – more than I’d spent to travel there, and more than I
wanted to pay. But when I asked for something simpler they took me up to the
second story to something more charismatic and far cheaper, and that’s where I
stayed. It was a simple room with wide planked wooden floors well-trodden,
windows overlooking the harbor, a single bulb, and just the hint of a smell of
creosote from the shipyard next door.

After a simple dinner I crawled out onto the balcony with some candles, my
notebook, a fountain pen. There was an oil lantern hanging from the roof and I
lit it and watched as the moon rose over the Lombok strait. It was possible to
travel more comfortably than this, I thought to myself, but impossible to
travel more happily. With the exception of a sailor’s marlinspike knife in my
pocket, everything I wanted in the world was in my bag, and nowhere on earth
would have suited me more than where I was.

Gunung Batur (Mount Batur) … or where I had been! Because I arrived in
Padangbai by way of the Batur volcanic crater and a lovely, pre-dawn hike under
stars to its summit. In Kedisan I’d stashed my bag with the hotel office and
set out in hiking boots, my favorite, green flannel shirt, and a lumbar bag up
a grassy trail that led to the volcanic crater. It was an easy ascent up 1717
meters to a shockingly beautiful view, and a lovely experience watching the
stars fade into the first colors of morning as brightly-colored birds traversed
the footpath and morning overtook us. At the top, a cool morning breeze
lingered still: before too long the sun would climb overhead and the Indonesian
humidity would creep up the slopes.

“There is an intense but simple thrill in setting off in the morning on a
mountain trail knowing that everything you need is on your back. It is a
confidence in having left all inessentials behind and of entering a world of
natural beauty which has not been violated, where money has no value, and
possessions are a deadweight. The person with the fewest possessions is the
freest: Thoreau was right. -- Paul Theroux”

Westerners feel a proud sense of accomplishment in summiting Indonesian
volcanoes, but it doesn’t last long: in places like Batur, Indonesian children
make the same hike every morning. In lieu of lumbar bags and fancy boots they
do it in worn flip-flops or barefoot, with a crate of soda bottles on their
head. I’d like to say I bought one from them, but I did not.

I set southward instead, and down from the bright summit, following a lava flow
part of the time. It had oozed forth in two long streams, bridging once in a
gorgeous, balsatic arch you could sneak under. It looked so fragile, but poking
at it with a variety of sticks and rocks, I found it was extremely strong. Lava
goes where it wants with inexorable determination. So did this lucky traveler,
nudging eastward along the Ring of Fire.