Next on my agenda was a trip to gaze into the gaping maw of
Mount Bromo, an active volcano in East Java. The nearest major city is Surabaya, the second-largest city in all Indonesia, so my route of choice was CGK-SUB, quite possibly the busiest domestic leg in the country. This also meant plenty of choice for my flights, but as my friend had a connecting international flight to catch on the way back, one way had to be Garuda, who had the effrontery to charge 640k for a one-way. Out of principle I had to pick another carrier for the way in, and after some detective work I booked Lion Air, only to find that the flight in question was actually operated by their LCC wing Wings Air. Then again, at a price of 229k (~US$20), I couldn't really complain... or could I?
IW8974 CGK-SUB MD82 seat 11F
Jakarta's domestic terminal, much maligned in my previous installent, looked pretty decent by day the second time around, even if I did have to make a grand detour from inside 1A departures to outside 1B arrivals to find a functional ATM. Passengers at the gate were sorted neatly onto both sides and our flight was the first and apparently only one to depart from the left, and this time we walked straight on board via jetway instead of crossing the tarmac on foot.
On boarding, I first thought that the plane and seat pitch looked somehow awfully narrow, but the puzzle pieces only fell together when I realized that this wasn't the 737 I was expected, but an MD-82, a plane I haven't flown in a long, long time. It's a long and narrow dart of a plane, with seating in a lopsided 2-3 configuration, and when sitting near the nose it was surprisingly quiet in flight.
Alas, that's about it as far as the superlatives go, as Wings had evidently decided to economize by turning off air con, not necessarily the best of ideas on a tropical noon on Java. Seat pitch was cramped if not entirely untolerable, but the windows were pretty scratched up and there appeared to be insulation squirting out the edges. In-flight entertainment was provided by an "Invocation Card" with prayers for five religions, and after the plane was loaded with sweating pax, full to the last seat, we taxied through the safety demo in Bahasa and utterly inaudible English and bounced to the sky.
The first half of the hour-long hop was uneventful, and we spent our time volcano-spotting and trying the match the cones to my rudimentary travel guide map. In-flight service consisted of free sealed cups of water and nothing more, even at a price, although most pax were fasting for Ramadan and didn't touch even the water. (Tip: the Quran permits breaking fast if you're travelling, although whether you equate even the discomforts of even dodgiest LCC with crossing the Sahara on a camel is left to you.)
We soon noticed, though, that the previously torrid cabin temperatures were quickly dropping, and a few seats ahead some resourceful passengers were stuffing the safety cards up above the window in an attempt to stop the rush of cold air through the vents. Fortunately, before hypothermia could set in we had started out descent to Surabaya's Juanda International Airport. Landing was in one piece and we were bussed out to the baggage claims, where I pondered the mysteries of an office labeled "BAG BREAK DOWN" and haggled for a car to take us to Bromo.
The sun sets early in East Java, but it also rises early, so we set our alarm clocks to ring at 3:30 AM and, bundling on every layer of clothing we had, set off on foot from Cemoro Lawang (c. 2300m) up towards the viewpoints of Mt. Penanjakan (2770m). As the area lives on tourism and everybody wants to see Bromo at dawn, the village was positively bustling at this unearthly hour and we were hailed with the traditional greetings of "By jeep? By pony? 100! Boss!" as we walked through. Nobody else was going our way though, and after we shook off one more local who quite popped out of the bushes and offered to guide the way (I'll take the pavement and signposted trail over your jungle path, thank ye very much), we hit Viewpoint 1 at 5 AM just in time for the sun to peep over the horizon.
I'd previously dubbed
Svalbard as "Mordor", but while the epithet still applies as far as entire gigantic lands of vast desolation go, I think Mt Bromo and the entire Tengger Caldera, while a mere 20 km in diameter, pip it for sheer cinematographic visuals. Picture this (or click the thumbnails above): in the middle of lush green valleys full of farms and ponchoed Tenggerese on ponies, there's a gigantic gaping pit filled with nothing but gray volcanic ash (the aptly named
Pasir Laut, "Sand Sea"). Mt Batok, solid brown and stately, stands guard up front; Mt Bromo, edges tinged with white and green sulphur, constantly belches plumes of white smoke; and Mt Semeru, standing tall at 3600m behind them all, does honest-to-Brahma volcanic eruption with little gray mushroom clouds bursting out every 15 minutes or so.
The return was uneventful, except the little bit where our jeep turned out to have a broken gas gauge and thus stalled conveniently in the middle of a steep incline. I know nothing about cars, so this was a good moment to learn that while normal brakes don't work without fuel, the handbrake does. The driver hopped on a moto and came back a few minutes later with a jerrycan of golden liquid to save the day.
SUB was surprisingly busy on this Sunday afternoon, with jostling queues at security and check-in, and the interior bore distinct resemblance to a shopping mall with every other store hawking the local speciality, whole smoked fish. There were half a dozen lounges for various gold
credit card holders, but none of them for banks I use, so we sat in the cavernous departures hall and watched strange planes on strange airlines zoom off to strange places. For the first time in Indonesia, even the LED departure boards worked!
GA323 SUB-CGK B737-300 seat 8E
After the previous day I appreciated Garuda a little more: it was the same 737-300 as always, but the aircon worked, announcements were mostly comprehensible and the food pack provided was rather edible (although I'm still wondering how they can pack so much sugar, syrup and glaze into a single miniature donut). Row 8 proved lucky indeed: it's the emergency exit row and seat F was missing, so there was plenty of space. (9F, right behind the empty space, would be even better!) Arrival was on time and I was back in Jakarta for another week of work.