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Mountain Climbing

Fed up with the touristy culture of Bali, we travelled further inland to climb a volcano called Gunang Batur. Getting to and from the little village at the base was a matter of paying some average Joe (maybe average Gushti would be a better phrase) to drive you there in his car. There were no bus routes.

We stayed in a hotel near the trailhead that egregiously overcharged us for our tickets to climb the mountain. (The Balinese government requires a permit to climb, and the cost includes a guide.) After awaking at 3am and enduring a terrifying pitch-black motorbike ride to the trailhead, we met up with our climbing companions and our guide.

Marcus and Adrian completed our group of four. They were a handsome gay couple from London on a similar backpacking trip as us. Our guide was a thoughtful man who shared some Hindu songs with us once we were atop the mountain. We were also unofficially accompanied by a boy of seven or eight who agilely followed us, wearing only flip-flops, in order to sell us cold bottles of Coke at exorbitant prices.


The Coca-Cola salesman

The sunrise from the top was beautiful, as was the view. The mountain we climbed, a just-barely-dormant volcano, was situated in the massive crater of an earlier, bigger volcano.


After hiking back down and taking a nap, we spent most of the next day (19 hours) hightailing it out of Bali on the slow bus to Java.

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