My stomach burns with a hunger only satisfied by martabak. I venture off into the night in search of the greasy delight. Sure enough, I find a stand not far from my room. Back at the hotel I exchange language lessons with the night desk clerk. His English is very basic so we get no farther than pronouns and proper greetings but it's a start. He has agreed to call me an ojek tomorrow morning. I have a plan to visit the stinking sulfur pits of Kawah Putih.
Up early for a ride through streets already choked with traffic. I have a chance to practice rudimentary Bahasa Indonesia as my ojek asks me the basics. Dari dimana Mr? (Where from? etc.) The ride takes about an hour and a half through verdant rice paddies and grungy worker villages. Eventually we're climbing into lush mountains. Like so many other places of note on Java, Kawa Putih is a place to ensnare tourists and siphon their hard earned cash. No way to make the hike yourself. You must pay to ride a cramped shuttle bus to asphalt and hand rails. The crater hosts a small, steaming lake of opaque teal, deeply saturated with sulfur. I was able to snap a few shots of the infernal cauldron away from the throngs of people. I prefer the look of these images to the reality of the place. It should be a desolate purgatory rather than the scenic oddity it has become.
Clouds roll in fast and droves a people abandon the area. Rain begins to pelt us and we quickly make our way back to the shuttle. Back at the base my driver joins me for a bowl of Nasi Goreng. Due to a cavity that has been developing in my decaying molar for some years now my progress is slow. I must needs visit a dentist. Haven't been since high school. Good lord.
One of the ladies in the café wishes to touch my nose. She emits a little squeal of delight on contact. Can my schnoz really be of such interest? And here I always thought it an eyesore. Different worlds man. Whoa...
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