When the guide told us that a magical blue fire could be found only in two places in the world, one in Russia and another in Kawah Ijen, near Surabaya, East Java, Indonesia, we got more excited.
Unfortunately, he neglected to inform us where and how far it is from Bromo, the main reason we visited Surabaya. On the day, we found out that it was 5 hours away, but it felt silly not to go there since I was already in Surabaya, so we decided to go for it but needed to stop somewhere in the middle to rest for a while.
The day started early, hiking the gorgeous Madakaripura waterfall, which had tired us. And we had to start again on the same night around 10 PM to begin the 3-hour drive to Kawah Ijen. We got into the car and slept almost immediately. Then, in the middle of the journey, I woke up. Half aware that we were driving fast on a pitch-black road, it didn’t look safe; if anything, it looked the opposite. I mumbled a little prayer and went back to sleep.
Once we reached there, I realized that my thin top wasn’t the wrong choice. Fortunately, it felt warmer when we started walking at 12.30 AM.
At first, we all walked together with thousands of stars covering us from above.
The guide said it was a 1 km walk. So we thought it was doable. But, unfortunately, it was on a steep hiking trail! In the pitch dark. Btw, 2 km was not 2 km, but 3 km. And we were walking beside a cliff, and that one-sided cliff turned into two-sided cliffs without any warning sign whatsoever. Also, did I mention that it was pitch dark, people?
This was not my terrain.
I paused every 5 minutes and was getting passed by other trekkers.
At 4 AM, we reached the top.
We then had to pass hundreds of people who sat by the cliff. It looked like they were camped there the whole night, and most didn’t wear masks. I didn’t get it; weren’t they aware of the strong sulphur smell in the air? I could feel my lips peeling and my eyes watering; didn’t they feel the same? Also, what if one of them decided to go cray-cray right there and pushed me off the cliff?
We rushed past them to reach the part we could see Kawah Ijen’s magical blue fire.
I was like, “Where is it??” The guy beside me pointed out a small, teeny thing below. It was a fog in a faint purple colour. That was the blue fire. My legs were like, “WTF, man, you dragged me here for this?!! I am going to murder you!”. So I zoomed in as much as possible and snapped a picture.
It was one of my biggest travel disappointments between Vietnam and Wellington. I felt like crying, but I was worried that the sulphuric air would turn my tears acidic. Instead, the guy beside me, apparently a guide, continued the conversation by sharing a story that seven tourists died here a few years ago.
That was the last straw for me. I needed to get out of this crowded sulphuric unsafe place.
On the way, in the dim light of sunrise, I was reunited with my colleagues, who had gone up much earlier because, unlike me, they had normal human strength.
All that wasn’t a total waste, though; the sunrise at Kawah Ijen was magnificent! It beats Bromo’s. This made me conclude that people go there not only to see the stove fire but also to enjoy the starry night, build a campfire and stay until sunrise.
I thought going down would be easy; boy, I was wrong. My legs punished me for making them walk for 4 hours only to see the damn fog. I had to squint with pain every step-down, all the way, until we reached the exit at 6 AM. All I wanted was to get the car, drink some coffee, and maybe even embrace the morning.
But instead, I passed out the minute I entered the car.
