Memories of Mount Bromo

We arrived late at our accomodation. It had been a long bumpy ride in a truly old jalopy. Some call it romantic, others called it uncomfortable. The room was basic, but we would only be there a short while. If memory serves me correctly we rose at around 3am. Even the roosters were snoozing still.The last time I had got up so early was when I was born.

In a comatosed state we shuffled to our guide and were led off sheep like into the murkiness. Dark and cold, what was I doing? Where was my ratty bed? We ascended for a short while and came to the valley floor. The braying of donkeys came out of the mist. I decide to walk as did my partner, but her sister had a terrible disease. Born bone-idle, bless her. She mounted one of these small animals with her feet almost dragging along the floor. We trudged onwards through the mist and gloom. Why am I here?

Our sojourn finished at the base of a steep set of timber steps. Just in case we felt in need of civilization, reminders of it were left in the form of plastic bottles, cans and other advanced detrius near the steps. The donkey was unburdened from its not insubstantial load and all three  of us made our way upwards. The donkey had seen the show before.

At the top we stopped to take in the view of the volcano and breath deep the fumes. Not distasteful after a life time of Mother’s cooking. This was more like it! Then someone shouted and we all turned in near seeming unison. The sun was rising. A huge golden, yellow orb of power and light ascended the farthest horizon. Spilling light across the plain as it rose. One of the most fantastic sights I had ever witnessed was taking place before my eyes.

ahh, that was why I was there!! Magnificent and I carry the polaroid like snapshots in my mind for evermore. Truly breathtaking. Now where was that poor donkey?

Memories of Cameron Heights

Monday mornin’ and raining here. I love the rain. Must be an English thing. Yes, that’s it, an English thing.

Recall making plans to go to the Cameron Heights. Booked tickets on an old jalopy of a bus and had an overnight drive. The road meandered through the forest in the pitch black. Then  a thunderstorm rolled over and accompanied us. The lightning illuminated the soaked forest for milliseconds at a time.

Pulled into Cameron about 4am or 5am. Some ungodly hour. Everything was shut. So thoughtless of Cameron;-) I made my way to a hostel, but it was closed, too. Constructed in an imaginative square. But redemption was at hand. The building had a wide porch running around the font and both sides. How does a porch run? Slowly.

The rainy weather was kicking in again. I settled down on one of the comfy chairs, feet on my backpack, and slipped into my sleeping bag. Remember feelin’ cosy, dry and happy to watch the rain from my temporary sanctuary.

Roadtrip Tech Checklist

How Does this Work?

DSCN0242

Laptop with charger – check

Ipads, 2 for the use of – check

Kindle –  for me to read and use when laptop is tied up – check

Mobile phones 4 with chargers, reminded mine is an iphone;-)  check

Hair dryer -? – check

Curling tongs – the ladies tell me they are important!

Remington (bought the company blah, blah) beard trimmer, various other uses, too! check

TV’s for children in car, plus adaptors (reminder, take films) – check

Headphones for TV’s vital – check. In cabin not in boot of car – double check

Garmin GPS –  to be stuck like an excited snail on the dashboard – check

Tablet – hope wonky start button still works -check

Digital Camera – what you mean it needs batteries? – check

Pen Drive – in case I can’t – check

Mixer for smoothies – check

Fiszka/skateboard – basic technology but important if I am to fall over it on holiday  instead of at home. Check

Calculator for currency – check

That’s enough to be going on with – check

 

 

 

Memories of Java. Pictures in the Mind.

Mid 1990s. Flew from Singapore to Jakarta. From Jakarta headed straight out by comfortable train to Bandung. Couldn’t sit with my lady on the train and her sister, so I sat opposite a young local man who chatted to me. He told me to put away the copy of Schindler’s List, which I was reading, at least whilst in public.Then he mused upon the fact of how wonderful snow must be. I didn’t want to disabuse him of this line of thought.

Then we got down to the nub of his conversation. Upon my return t the UK he wanted me to send him a copy of Mayfair or Penthouse. I dutifully took down his address. Dutifully put it in my pocket, and dutifully lost it. So I  never sent the material. Hope he wasn’t too disappointed.

Bandung hailed into view. Checked in to a cheap hostel and went for a stroll with the girls. Smiley faces everywhere, people arm in arm, arms around shoulders, men too. The girls felt safe. Nice atmosphere. Remember a barber’s shop. Men in a row having their hair cut by barbers in a row.  The barbers stood out as they wore surgical masks and gloves. Strange. Ate the most delicious sweet pancake type of food. Served from a small glass topped hand cart. We became obsessed, couldn’t get enough of our food fix.

Next destination Yogyakarta for a soupçon of culture.