We spent two nights in a small village tucked in the shadow of the great Mount Bromo. Our initial plan was to use our full day in the area to climb Bromo by day. We’d had our share of sunrise volcano hikes! However, the weather was not our friend and clouds shrouded the area. We decided to gamble that the following morning’s sunrise would be clear and are we glad we did!

Day 136 – Madikaripura Waterfall and a hike in the clouds

Our plans for self-sufficiency were scuppered by the only scooter rental man in town being out of scooters, so we had to rely on the somewhat pricey tour companies who operate in the area. After a bit of haggling over WhatsApp, I secured us a reasonably priced trip to the nearby Madakaripura Waterfall. It’s not always open due to weather conditions, but we had word it was safe to visit, and so we each jumped on the back of a motorbike for a somewhat thrilling ride down winding hills to the remote entrance of the waterfall.

We were given hard hats and assigned a guide who led us, chain smoking all the way, alongside and sometimes across a river. It was immediately very pretty, despite the infrastructure of the pathway being decimated in some areas, leaving us to more traditional methods of reaching the waterfall upstream.

It wasn’t too long till we arrived at a bridge and got our first glimpse of some small streams of water falling from the lush green cliffside. Already pretty impressed, we were instructed to don our plastic ponchos, cameras stored safely underneath them, pop on our hard hats and head to the waterfall proper.

The smaller waterfalls rained down on us heavily and we would have been absolutely soaked if not for the ponchos. We turned the corner to see the most magnificent waterfall ahead. The guide, cigarette smoking no longer a possibility with all the water, came into his own here, instructing us to stand on various rocks while he took my phone to snag some photos of us.

We then had to climb around a fairly sketchy wet bit of cliff. Going up and round wasn’t too difficult, but coming back the other way had my nerves a little frayed. The view from within was truly astounding. This is the best waterfall I’ve ever seen.

We turned around to leave, and were hit with another stunning view of the waterfalls we’d passed.

We walked back to our drivers and had fried bananas and kopi (coffee) to restore ourselves, elated to have found this hidden wonder. We saw two other visitors arriving on our way out… not another soul!

We were driven back, wet despite the ponchos, and I had asked our tour guide friend if they could suggest a hike for us in the local area. He said he could arrange a local guide to take us for a walk in the hills. He warned it was a bit cloudy, but we could do it if we wanted. Our hostel was pretty bleak and we wanted to have an adventurous day, so we agreed with gusto and our drivers took us straight on to the start point after a quick change of clothes.

The guide assigned to us wore a heavy jumper, the words ‘RACING HELL’ emblazoned on the back despite the heat. He also wore a friendly smile and motioned for us to follow him, not speaking English whatsoever.

We walked through pretty forest, a big tomato farm and eventually to the start of quite a steep slope, zig-zagging up through thick foliage. Our guide had a machete and was slashing his way through, as the path was mostly overgrown, though clearly trodden. It seemed we were the first people here in a fair while.

Soon, we were in the clouds and couldn’t see more than 5 meters in any direction, the foliage relentlessly unchanging, the path winding ever upwards. The work was hard and frankly unrewarding, with not a view in sight. Birds chirped from the haze tantalisingly as my bird app picked up the songs and told me rare treasures lay beyond sight. Fourty-five minutes of hard, sweaty climbing, we decided to call it. The guide was unable to tell us how close to the top we were due to the language barrier, and honestly it felt like it didn’t make much difference as the top would be another breathtaking view of white nothingness.

And so we motioned back down, and the guide looked more than happy to stop his machete work which must have been really quite tiring, and led us back down the way we came. We encountered some sweet tomato farm workers on the way down and after I asked to take a portrait of one, the other woman insisted I take hers too.

Our legs were scratched and our brows sweaty, but we had achieved something this day, rather than sit in our hostel room wondering what could have been. The evening was spent dining, and then arranging our equipment and finalizing plans for a Bromo hike the following morning.

Day 137 – Mount Bromo

So this tour guide said we had to start our tour at 2:30am. I protested heavily to this… the volcano and associated viewpoints were a mere thirty minutes away and sunrise wasn’t till after 5am. He was quite persistent, but I won out, saying we would be picked up at 4am and we would risk missing the moment the sun would rise. He reluctantly agreed. Place your bets now, dear readers, who was the victor?

And so it was that we were up at 4am, in our fleeces and raincoats (Billie hired a nice snug one for a small price), once again on the back of motorbikes, whizzing up the winding road to Bromo in the dark. Again, a real thrill and a super interesting way to start the day. We were headed for a viewpoint of Mount Bromo, rather than Bromo itself. The idea being it was much nicer to see it, and this other volcano that’s next to it, lit by the ruddy shades of sunrise, followed by a hike to the crater to witness the eggy, smoky goodness within.

We were dropped at 4:30am at the base of a 20 minute walk uphill to a viewpoint, which we made in PLENTY OF TIME for sunrise. Thank god above we did not leave an hour and a half earlier and sit there for two hours in the middle of the night waiting for the sun to rise. I can’t think of a worse way to spend my time when I could be sleeping, and I told our guide this afterwards, gloating at how right I was. Anyway, the sunrise viewpoint had a lovely view of the ‘Sea of Sand’ and then the two volcanoes in the distance. There were more people there than you’d like to share the view with, but it was a nice enough vibe and we bought kopi and a banana from a stall to fill our bellies a bit.

A few photos later and we were off to the next stop. Back on the bikes and across the Sea of Sand, which was pretty epic and a little bit sketchy. We arrived at the base of the volcanoes and started the hike up to Bromo crater, just 20 to 30 minutes up volcanic sand / dirt and then eventually up steps.

Normally, when climbing a summit and you’re out of breath, it’s quite the satisfactory relief to reach the top. Bromo, however, greets your tired, heaving lungs with an acrid, sulphurous smoke. Not exactly ideal, but we got past it pretty quickly. The crater edge was volcanic black and there was a thin path that two people could just about pass by each other. Either side was a relatively sheer drop. Into the volcano, certainly, would not end well for anyone without a sure step. The other way you might survive but I wouldn’t bet too much on it. There were a fair few tourists up there with us and you couldn’t help but think that accidents must happen from time to time.

That aside, the crater itself was impressive; an ominous rumbling creaked out from the depths and warm, eggy smoke billowed out. Sulphur coloured the rocks below yellow and the rim of the crater swept around us strikingly under the now cloud-scudded sky.

Also worth gaping at was the volcano next door, which nobody ever really mentions or climbs for whatever reason. Maybe it’s really difficult or impossible, but it’s a great backdrop to Bromo. Shoutout to Mt Batok!

It was back on the back of our motorbikes and our trusty guides whizzed us back home for about 9am. We ordered breakfast to our room and were packed with our bags in the car boot for 10am, for our 5 hour journey to Red Island Beach ahead of us. It’s a real beauty… see you next time!