Picking up where I left off last time...

The three of us were really chuffed on Wednesday (23rd) when all of our counterparts turned up in the hire car to pick us up at 0700 (that almost constitutes a lie-in around here, where the mosque sounds the 4am wake up call! Incidentally, I am rapidly getting used to the sound of the mosque - maybe even growing to find the Islamic equivalent of hymns quite amenable - BUT the 0400 call to prayer is just a tad too early, as even earplugs can't completely block it out). So off we went to the next district, Probbolingo to the site of "the best rafting in Java" (thanks, Sugi) and a rafting company part-owned by original Kaliandra staff member Agus, with whom we stayed in Malang. We kitted up and then got transferred to the top of the river along an incredibly bumpy road in what was essentially a cattle wagon, with Mullins paddling out of the side! At the riverside we jumped into boats - we had to make everyone rearrange themselves because the three of us wanted to be in the same boat, and ended up with only Sis of our counterparts with us - and were given the lowdown on what all of the instructions meant (BOOM = get down in the boat or else you''re probably going to die). So off we went, to be honest nobody but the instructors doing any paddling, getting thrown about and drenched within seconds. I can't think of much to say of the scenery along the course - as you can imagine when you're a) travelling down a gorge and b) focussing on not falling out. However, after a quarter of an hour or so we stopped next to some HUGE (and smelly) bat roosts underneath waterfalls glistening in the sunlight, and had our photos taken by the pro photographer who happened to be on hand (!) - see photo. Halfway down there was a snack of pisang goreng (hot fried bananas), and then another stop later on for Sis and Will to jump about 5m or so off a bank into a pluge pool, and Udin to swim/ float downstream a bit looking like a drowned rat.

Following the rafting it was off to Bromo, one of the must-do things for backpackers, apparently. Instead of going for a hostel Sugi found us a homestay where we could all stay in the same room. The best way I can think of to describe the room is as a cow shed with beds in. For dinner we chose a restaurant on the basis of whether or not it had a TV (for England vs. Slovakia) and whether or not the doors closed (it was FREEZING up there).

Alarms set for 3am, I think we all crashed out pretty quickly, and then woke up almost as quickly after what felt like 10 minutes' sleep. Unfortunately Sis and Sugi had to go for a meeting that morning (the reason they managed to get two days off work to come on the trip), so it was us and Udin who were in a Jeep at 0330, bouncing up the track to the sunrise viewpoint. Stupidly, I had thought I would be fine in shorts providing that I brought a fleece with me, so I had to rely on trusty sarung (sarong - given/ loaned to me by our homestay hosts in Gamoh) for extra warmth. At the viewpoint we were surround by the most Westerners any of us had seen for a month, in fact the ONLY Westerners, all waiting to see the amazing sunrise over a hissing volcanic crater... Shivering and dodging the raindrops, we waited patiently until about 0545, when we finally looked at each other, realised that we could see each other clearly, and admitted defeat - it was daytime and we'd seen nothing thanks to the thick mist shrouding the viewpoint. Typical. But all was not lost; the Jeep took us to the start of the walking track to the crater, and we walked the two hundred and fifty something steps to smell it's sweet sulphuric scent (!) and see the smoke.

After coming down from the crater we went for breakfast at a tiny shack next to our homestay and got talking to some backpackers, one of whom lives in... yep, you guessed it, Sheffield. And on the way home we managed to get Mullins some ace photos of the incredible terracing!

Since then we've had bouts of illness (Will and then me), colds (Sis) and the best one - a huge burn blister on my leg (see photo). The story behind it is pretty ironic and (possibly?) worth repeating: on the way up to Kaliandra on Tuesday Sis (with whom I usually get a lift) stopped to collect his clean laundry from a house en-route, and while he went inside I waited out. A boy came up to me, someone I usually see and wave at most days as he is always so excited to see us, and pointed to his knee (he's deaf), which was bleeding. I had a brainwave, and pulled out my (as yet unused) first aid kit, wiped off the blood and dirt, and whacked on a plaster, much to Rokim's pleasure. Then, admiring my work, I stepped back and after a few seconds realised that my leg had been resting on the exhaust pipe of Sis's scooter. Doh! So the only reason that I've had to use my first aid kit on myself is because I used my first aid kit. Surely this means that in the future I should notcarry a first aid kit? I wonder where the health and safety sits on that...

The research is starting to wind up, just in time for me to attend a CEI conference nearby next week (Caretakers of the Environment International - not 100% sure what it is but I'm sure it will be interesting!). Kaliandra are the main event organisers, so I'll be there in a semi-official capacity, and have been handed responsibility for proof reading the daily newsletter (in English, obviously). I've already met a couple of Americans and they are expecting delegates from all over Europe, Asia, Australia and North America.

Off to finish off the interviews...