Every trip we Carmelites make have few 'highlights' - that make us reminiscence every time we meet, often lets us wonder at the turn of events and, are narrated over & over with roaring laughter. The hilarious taxi
ride in the Middle East, the adventurous white water rafting at Kitugala, the rainy Belilena cave trek, the lunch & dessert from China Town - all these have been repeated umpteen times without a second of boredom.
Our 2019 trip had an evenly placed three-day itinerary on a
five-day trip to explore Bali. After a beautiful evening at Tanah Lot Temple
followed by dinner, we returned quite late on the first day of our tour. It was
almost midnight when we dispersed after the routine 'Splitwise' settlement and, preps for
next day. I thought of catching a wink around 00:45 AM after my (OCD) room cleanup
and getting my backpack ready for the trek up Mount Batur. It was literally a
wink I could get as we were supposed to leave the hotel at 1:30 AM. As luck
would have it, my phone rang at 1:00 AM as I was drifting to sleep :( I
forcefully closed my eyes to attempt a (quite unsuccessful) power nap of 10 minutes
and then got up to shower and get ready. Weary eyed in our active wear, we gathered at 1:30 AM. We had asked the hotel to get us breakfast
packed at that time. We had less hope on this, as it was quite late when we placed the order the previous night. Much to our relief, they had kept nine breakfast packets ready! Andy, our driver & local guide, was on time and we started
around 2:00 AM for an hour and a half ride to the base of Mount Batur. This was a 'Sunrise Trek'. Viewing the sunrise from atop Mount Batur (with Lake Batur below
and Mount Agung across it) is supposedly magical.
The roads were largely empty until we finally reached a check
post at the final winding path to our destination - to see a real long line of
shining brake lights. Ticketing and check post operations were all done by the
same people, we blindly trusted them (no choice there!). The entry fee for the trek was IDR 400,000 per person. Andy parked
the vehicle at the parking lot and suggested that if any of us need to use the
washroom we could use the ones at the parking lot. There will not be any up the
mountain, he said. Rarely does anything come free in Bali. Usage charges of
washroom was IDR 2000. The parking lot was already full of cars and vans and
about hundreds of people in small and large groups. While we waited for the
group to settle, we were introduced to two young ladies who were to be our
guides for the trek - Made (pronounced 'Ma Day') a 19-year-old high school-er
and Amy a 22-year-old part-time worker. [Trivia: In general, Balinese people
name their children depending on the order they are born, and the names are the
same for both males and females. The firstborn child is named Wayan/ Putu/
Gede, the second Made/ Kadek, the third child Nyoman/ Komangand and so on. Only
surnames help differentiate the individuals.]
Made and Amy gave us hand torches and told us that one
person would walk in front of our group and the other would be tailing us. From
nowhere a lady appeared and started offering jackets. While most of us nodded a
'No', we saw Alima quickly accepting one with a 'Thanks', to hear the next minute on how much the
charge for renting that is. Deepa decided to rent a jacket while I was thinking
the climb may get us perspiring and, I may be better off without an additional
layer. While packing for the trip, I had considered taking my hiking shoes,
hooded jacket and wearable. I "weighed" carrying the extra weight
against the real need for specialized accessories on a tourist trek. And of
course, decided against it; thought it may be an overkill. Travelling light is always better.
Once all of us were ready to move, Made led the way with me
by her side. Anuja, Bushra, Alima, Deepa, Reni, Lavanya, Simi and Parveen followed and Amy was
behind us. It was pitch dark; the weather was nice and cool. The first 10-15 minutes
of walk from the base was not at all tough. We kept shining our torches to see what occupied the sides of the road. It was a pleasant experience to see
tomatoes, onions, chillies and cabbages neatly cultivated. The farms
seemed well attended to. We could smell the fertilizers. Anuja (the most
qualified farmer among us and, one who runs a fertilizer company) would call
out when she could identify bone meal and other fertilizers (cannot remember a single name from her list of complex compounds!). I had carried my
hiking backpack with medicines, a poncho, a power-bank and two bottles of water. Water is the
most precious thing for a tourist in Bali. You just don't get it as easily in
forms we need (in bottles or pouches)! After a while the climb started becoming
slightly steeper and few in the group found it tough to keep pace. Amy
suggested to ask Andy to come and drop us in the van to a higher point in the
trek so we can save energy.
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| Waiting for Andy and the van |
After a forever-wait in front of a shack nearby
watching lot many trekkers walking past, Andy turned up and gave us a 5 mt ride
uphill till where a van could take us. I remember us commenting on how few seem over-prepared, with hiking poles and heavy shoes. There were few cars and vans already
parked in the dry rocky dusty clearing. Two in the group decided to stay back
in the van as they feared that they may slow down the others. The 7 of us then started again with Amy leading the way. In 5 minutes, we realized Lavanya
cannot move ahead as her sandals will not help her with the rocky slippery path. It was better that she return to the van. She
carefully (a 'little' scared and tensed she said later) went back to the van.
So there we were, Anuja & Bushra with Amy, Alima and I
following and then Reni and Deepa with Made. The climb started getting tougher
with just enough path for one person. Calling it a path is an exaggeration.
It was a steep array of volcanic rocks, not always laid in a straight line up. Alima is
definitely taller than the petite (few prefer calling 'short') me. There was no
way to climb up those rocks than use all fours, for any of us. It was getting very tough as we
had hand torches too. Without shining the torch, we cannot see where to step
on. With the torch in one hand, we cannot hold on to the rocks to climb. I
realized that this is mountaineering and not a trek anymore. I remembered my
pulmonologist telling me my lung function has much scope for improvement and I
wondered when I may start wheezing. I regretted being irregular with my inhaler
while on travel (as if that would have worked wonders!). There were scores of
people with experienced guides, in hiking shoes, with hiking poles and
headlamps. I regretted again for (1) not reading on and prepping for the trek
(quite unusual of me) (2) for deciding to travel light (3) for not taking my
Garmin along. There was no stopping
possible. One reason was not having many spaces to stop or to balance our feet. The other reason was the continuous flow of hikers from behind us. Many a times when I extended my leg to climb, I could not lift my body
up without support of both hands. At one such instance, the seemingly solid
rock I tried to hold on to with my left hand just slipped away! I do not know how I saved
myself from falling into the deep gorge on the
left. Someone said later that the scary height and the view of those deep
gorges may be why they plan the ascent in pitch dark :) There were times when
we tried to hold on to roots and long grass to lift ourselves up the
increasingly steep path. It was also important to keep balancing our bodies
since the uneven lava rocks and smooth soil were slippery.
The huge hiker traffic also meant we could not move in line
as a group. We could no longer see or hear Amy, Anuja and Bushra. We waited a
bit for Reni, Deepa and Made who were behind us. When we needed help we would stop and if we
were far apart from each other, our only hope was a hiker passing by being generous. Most guides
(who were not 'paid' to be our guides) would rarely even bother. They would ask
us to wait, help their 'own' groups and walk past. Many people had climbed past
us, few swiftly, few puffing and few hopefully asking 'oh no, how much more'. We kept
stopping for a minute or two wherever we found a little interstice. While
resting thus, we helped people and encouraged them with 'You can! You can!', while
wondering to ourselves whether we can :) We did not get any acknowledgment from
the trio behind us. The trio ahead of us was also not to be found. All of a
sudden we found the two of us, few steps apart from each other, on a narrow curve up a steep
rocky mountain and, staring into darkness up and down. By that time, we had
realized there was no way to go downhill. It would be nothing but a fall or a
tumble to God knows where! Descend along this path was definitely tougher than
the ascend, and we remembered the guides telling us that the trek down is a
different route than the path up. This meant that unless we reach the
summit (or where ever it was that all these crowd was heading to), there was no
way to get back.
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| No one else to be found up or down :) |
Bruises on all limbs, cuts from grazing on rough rocks, arm
and thigh muscles aching bad - we decided to go ahead on our own than wait. We
wondered if Reni and Deepa may have stopped the hike and Made would have given a
way to go back to the base. It felt like it was just two of us climbing up a
volcano in the dark. Quite surprisingly the continuous flow of hikers seemed to
have stopped. The only living beings we saw were two dogs - a brown and a black
one who overtook us! That gave me hope that the path they followed may be to where
they may find food, which meant where humans left food or cooked food. We
gasped and panted and lifted ourselves up and up the rocks and after what
seemed forever, we saw some fluorescent light a little "up the sky"
towards our left. We could not see anyone but we thought we heard Bushra and
Anuja. We may have been hallucinating but that gave us a hope that we were
closer to the sunrise viewing point. We checked for paths leading to the left
and the feeble light of the torches showed us dead-end to the left. I am not
blessed with any sense of direction on normal days and city roads too and we were trying to figure out a path to a little glow and some noise we heard! We assumed that the
path we saw on the right would turn left to the 'landing with the light' and
proceeded that way. As we climbed the path, the trail of light and sound vanished
and we were left alone, again! Alima was getting a bit edgy by that time. The
terrain also changed and we found ourselves moving up slippery sand in a mix of
mist and strong cold breeze.
We do not know from where she appeared! There came a
young girl asking if we needed help. We were too quick to shout "Yes!" and, asked her how much more to the viewing point. The only thing I had checked
(stupid me!) was the sunrise time for that date and it was 6:02 AM. The time
then was 5:45 AM. We have been climbing for 1 hour 30 mts at least. Ayu (that was her name) responded '10 more
minutes'. She heaved us up from where we got stuck and led the way. The 19-year-old
guide had already taken her group to the sunrise viewing point and she was
roaming around (what a place to jump around!).
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| The sudden appearance of Ayu, gave us 'Aayussu' |
There were many a times when we
felt we were done. But then the thought of having to get back kept pushing us
forward. Ayu said in broken English that we can get to an easier path with
a taxi too. A little unbelievable but then she was a guide and that was a
shimmer of hope. We thought it started to drizzle but it was the mist settling
on us like rain. Those last 10 minutes turned out to be 15 and lo! We see people
few turns above us! Not lots of them, but few...! I was taking a turn, leaned back to
balance myself and hear a shriek to find that a medium sized rock had slipped from
above and landed right in front of me. Had I been ten seconds faster, it would
have landed right on me. After a minute of few silent people staring at me
and I realizing what just happened, we made our way up again. Hoped to find at
least two but none of our gang were there! A tea shop served toast and boiled eggs. The dogs we met on our way up and few of their friends were licking the left overs and at times attempting to steal food from people. There were bamboo
benches arranged in steps on the mountain side at this summit (which we later realized was the side of a caldera). We found space on a bamboo bench and sat
there with a sigh of relief, a little confusion and, a great sense of achievement. We
never thought we would make it. No prior experience than may be a 5K light trek at
the most, no altitude training, no accessories. We heard some one say the sunrise
may not be visible due to the heavy mist. We cared less! Phew! I
did see a peeping yellow sun and its golden rays for few seconds, amidst the clouds and the mist and the loud cheer
that burst out of the small group of people.
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| Sigh of relief! Light and happy in spite of all aching muscles. |
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| The thin crowd seen where Alima and I landed finally. |
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| Memorabilia with a Plumeria |
The sunrise trek of 4.5 hours at Mount Batur taught me how careless and reckless I can be. I keep repeating to my teams to not make assumptions but then, I assumed a "tourist trek" to be simple. I checked the sunrise time but never checked on the preparations recommended or the nature of the trek. I never checked on the safety measures available. Talking of safety measures - there were none visible - no ropes, no railings, no medical support, no helipads. We can only assume that the guides are well trained and know of ways to get injured people downhill. We learned how not to assume people would help us when we are in danger. We learned how to be wise (bordering along selfish/ evil) to get help when needed. We stood glued to the ground at narrow paths without making way, such that guides had to help us for their own good (to be able to move forward with their groups). We realized our mind can take over matter when needed. For each of us - it did feel like a huge achievement.
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We did achieve something and it does feel damn good!
"The journey not the arrival matters." - T.S. Eliot
