The Ijen, descent into the forecourt of hell

27. March 2018 0 By

The night ends at 11:30. In complete derangement I search for my things and try to mentally prepare myself for the strenuous night hike that awaits us today. That Ijen isn’t a piece of cake, I already know that much. I’m actually nervous and afraid of getting back to the starting point alive.

Adi’s still asleep deeply in the car and we need to wake him up. I feel pretty sorry for him and would love to sing him a lullaby and cancel the tour. But Adi is a real guy and so we race to Indonesian techno beats over an unlit country road for an hour to the foot of Ijen. Now I’m definitely awake! Indonesian techno sound is even suitable for awakening a bear from hibernation.

Of course no tour in Indonesia starts without 2 entrance fees. meanwhile we have spent so much money here that I can already see Peter Zwegat from the popular german TV series „get out of debt“, shaking his head and looking at my account balance.

Shortly after the entrance the first Indonesians are already waiting for us, who are willing to carry you up the mountain in a sack truck if necessary. For 700,000 rupees you are dragged up by 3 small men on at least 30% gradient and can relax wonderfully. Only with great effort I can prevent Mirko from renting such a vehicle. We’ll be tough, we’ll make it. At least that’s what l tell myself now. After the first 500 meters I’m still in good shape, it’s not that steep at all. After the other 300, I’m close to a heart attack and I’m already thinking about giving up. At least my little toe doesn’t hurt, which is probably because the pure survival function has started and my body only pumps blood into the important organs. The idea of being driven up the mountain in a cart is suddenly not as bad as I thought.

Because of my physical and especially mental condition we have to take a break. It takes a few minutes to get over my inner bastard. The yoga tips Haquim gives me early in the morning don’t necessarily help either, but he is very sweet and feeds me Magic Candy, some sweets he brought along just in case. Haquim seems to be well prepared, which makes me hope that I’m not the first one who almost starts crying.

Mirko now unpacks his own magic Candy, the flu pills with pseudo Ephidrin, which make him fit again in just 3 minutes. Maybe I should take a few of these, too, just to be on the safe side.

At the second stop I slowly believe that the steep path never stops and I yearn for the sack truck. At the third stop I have to sit down. While everyone else is putting on their jackets because they are getting cold, I would like to get naked because I am so incredibly hot. Usually there’s a fucking moped on every corner of this country, why not here? I would like someone right now to explain the situation to me and discuss it with me in detail. Shortly before the crater rim there is a hut, in which there is coffee and tea and one can rest before the last part. Then it goes up the mountain for another 12,000 kilometres before we finally reach the crater rim. Admittedly, the view from up here is breathtaking. We have a starry night and you can see all the way down to Banyuwangy. I could stay here forever because it’s just so incredibly beautiful and magical. Almost as if Van Gogh had painted the starry sky himself. Unfortunately there is only enough time for a short picture, we have to go further, the volcano calls and we want to be back up before dawn.

Gasmask Ahoy

From now on it is time to prepare the gas masks, because you can already smell the sulphur clearly. Because of all the gases the visibility is sometimes only five meters and I already know that it gets worse when we descend into the crater. In addition, you get a lot less air through the gasmask and in addition, the thing does not feel very comfortable in my face.

At the top of the crater rim a large sign announces: „Visitors are not allowed to enter“. Of course, none of the 100 people who made it to the top today are sticking to it. After all, everyone hopes to see the blue fire that comes from the burning sulphur.

Slowly we start the descent. The Ijen lives up to its name, because translated it means as much as slippery and it is really damn slippery here. Oh, and the view in the middle of the night with the tiny headlamp on my forehead is not exactly exhilarating either. Whoever drops into the depth will probably only survive by miracle. However, this is not the only danger we expose ourselves to, because sulphur gases also carry risks. Only two weeks ago, a tourist suffering from asthma died here. Walking into a cloud of sulfur with a respiratory disease is downright suicide.

We descend deeper and deeper into the crater and in front of us and behind us a long queue of lamps stretches down the path. The situation is almost surreal and could easily come from a science fiction film. The only thing missing is that the last one from the mission is eaten by the monster or perhaps the spaceship that appears above the crater rim. The environment here is so incredibly inhospitable that you actually have the feeling of being on another planet. I almost have to pinch myself to realise that we are about to descend into an active volcanic crater. Who the hell would do that? Unfortunately, I am!

The deeper we descend, the worse the gases get. Meanwhile the smoke is so thick that you can’t see your hand in front of your eyes and the smell is almost unbearable. Haquim instructs us to squat on the ground and close our eyes until the wind has turned. For quite a while we sit with our eyes closed in the middle of the volcano, because the gas is so aggressive that our eyes water immediately. It’s incredible how fast the weather changes here. In addition to sulphur gas, fog also raises within minutes and no further descent is conceivable for the time being. Only 5 minutes later the wind has changed a bit and we can continue downhill. Now we also meet the first sulfur workers, who transport two fully loaded baskets, which are fastened with a bamboo stick in the middle. They carry up the sulfur chunks upwards, that weigh up to 100 kilograms and I can’t even begin to imagine how this works under these conditions. The miners are all small, narrow men with rubber boots much too big, who can drag Mirko up the crater on a single shoulder. How does that even work? Up to 3 times a day they can mine the sulphur at the lake, then transport it up to the crater rim and down the whole mountain to the cradle point. Their daily wage is about 8 tiny euros, from which the whole family must be nourished in doubt.

Large pipes are embedded at the bottom of the crater through which the sulphur vapour escapes and becomes solid on the outside at a certain temperature. The decomposition takes place with the simplest means, only some long metal rods are used to break off the sulphur. Most workers don’t even wear a gas mask, but have simply wrapped themselves in a cloth. It is not surprising that the life expectancy of these people is around 50–60 years.

On the way we meet a 65 year old worker who tells us that he only goes down into the crater once a day because he can’t do more. I deeply admire this man. I can’t even climb down the crater at the tender age of 37 without almost collapsing and crying on the way. How he manages to get back up here with the complete sulphur charge is simply incomprehensible to me.

The visibility is getting worse and worse and the sulphur vapours even stronger. Like on an expedition to Mars, we sit in the middle of the sulfur column on the ground and keep our eyes closed. Why the hell am I doing this? Why am I doing this although there is a prohibition sign at the crater rim? I’m surprised that Mirko came along, in Germany he doesn’t even go over a red light because he doesn’t want to break the rules. And every time I cross a red light, I can listen to an hour-long monologue about how it will cost me my driver’s license. Apparently he was mentally disturbed when we booked the tour.

When the wind turns in the other direction for a short moment we are lucky and I know again why I have taken on the exertions. We can see the blue fire that results from the combustion of sulphur. Hollywood couldn’t have done a better job of portraying the scene. As if by magic, small blue flames appear at the edge of the crater and then disappear again. I feel at least like Marco Polo himself and would like to get even closer. Unfortunately, the happy moment is quickly over and the sulphur vapour hits us again with full force. Added to this is the fog, which is now getting stronger and stronger. Haquim is getting nervous because the weather conditions are getting worse and worse. It is time to ascend again.

Laboriously and step by step we walk up again until we all reach the crater rim alive. I am completely exhausted, but also happy that I was able to see this natural spectacle with my own eyes. Unfortunately, the weather has become so bad that you can’t even see all the way down to the crater lake. The maximum visibility is 10 meters and I am very happy that we have our guide with us. Alone I would wander around here for another 10 years before I would eventually be found by someone.