I didn't sleep well that night in Bromo. Partly because I had a late cup of kopi (coffee), partly because of the lightning. Each strike illuminates the entire sky, like someone turning on the Sun for a split second, revealing the countryside below in an illuminating flash moment. I couldn't catch a strike on film, despite my effort and several dozen worthless shots of the night sky. Still, you can see in these couple of photos how bright the heavens got.
The next set of pictures depict the rising sun as we saw it - sort of; fog got in the way just like back home in SF - after a 3am climb up the adjacent hill.
After the sunrise, Chris and I walked down to the great plains and sea of sand that divide the crater from the village to peak over the edge of its fissure to pear at its insides and listen to what it had to say.
Yes, that is me relaxing on the edge of Bromo looking down into its core with no safety net or rail. Anyone can easily walk along the six inch ridge line that I sat on dividing a steep fall back onto the plains and desert from the insurmountable inside of Bromo. It awakened my nerves at first. But to be honest, I've had closer calls on the bike. When a full size tour bus is rushing towards you at eighty km/h, six inches of space is a blessing. Yes, a little crazy to be so close. No, not even mildly suicidal. Just something that had to be done.
Be Well, I miss you all.
-A
Beautiful
ReplyDelete