Once in a blue moon, I tend to disregard my desire to have a good night’s rest for unmatchable experiences. Having my zombie side emerging is intriguingly rewarding. This night was just it. I headed to the Bromo Tengger Semeru National Park for the first time after years of cancelled plans to witness the golden sunrise of Mount Bromo.
Golden Sunrise of Mount Bromo
Some group members managed to be awake from their brief slumber. I shrugged off my drowsiness and got busy layering up in my hotel room at MORAZEN Surabaya. “Bromo’s weather has been ranging from 9 to 13 degree Celcius lately, so please layer effectively,” wrote a text shared by Lita, a MORA Group representative. “I’m ready for the cold,” as I covered my body with a t-shirt below my sweater, thick leggings, and a headband. I chose a seat at the back of the bus with my trusty wool jacket in hand and scarf and gloves packed in my bag.
At 11 PM sharp, the bus took off to Probolinggo, East Java. One can visit the national park journeying from Surabaya to Probolinggo or straight from Malang. It took us two hours give and take to arrive at Rest Area ALIA Bromo, Sukapura, Probolinggo. A nap was necessary as we were told we had another two-hour ride on a Jeep before trekking uphill. Had I wish it was longer.
Wobbling down the bus steps my semi-open eyes were embraced by the chilly breeze. A couple of Jeeps were parked but those weren’t ours. So we waited inside the open-air food court that served light bites and winter apparel. The waiting was indefinite. I got myself a hot cup of sweet tea whereas others snacked on a sizzling bowl of soupy Indomie and some started donning their jackets, scarves, and beanies.
At last, the tour leader of Ciliwung Camp, Hilmy, greeted us. “I would like to apologise on behalf of the team for running late. We were driving from Malang and at one of the points, the portal was closed to none of our knowledge. Thank you for your patience,” she announced. “Seven Jeeps are prepared to transport you to Kingkong Hill. Each Jeep has your name on the windshield. Please remember your number - and let’s go!”
The sunrise hike is doable without a tour, but in our case, with Ciliwung Camp, everything was sorted out neatly and conveniently. Losing sleep for the heavenly epic sunrise is a weekly occurrence for Hilmy and the gang. “But I minimise my regularity to a maximum of three times a week,” she pointed out.
My red jeep’s driver, Dito, opened his window to the fullest, exerting zephyr creeping down my neck. “I need it open like that to see the pitch-black, narrow, curvy roads clearly,” he explained to me later in the day after I questioned my dreading. The road was inhibited by mainly Jeeps and the occasional spotting of locals on their motorbikes. I couldn’t take the wind anymore - I wrapped the scarf around my neck, leaned my head against Dito’s chair, and swerved to slumberland.
I wasn’t completely unaware of the journey. I sensed some bumpiness to which I discovered that was the Jeep traversing the sandy terrain. The Jeep finally stopped but it was because of traffic entering the national park. Hilmy opened the jeep’s backdoor and huddled everyone. “We need to hike to the sunrise point. But if you reckon you can’t then hop on these motorbikes and we’ll find you,” she briefed through her megaphone. These motorbikes are Bromo’s equivalent to Gojek run by locals. Prices vary from which spot you take it: Rp50,000 at a lower altitude and Rp35,000 mid-point.
Shivering in every inch of my body, clinching to my love of walks, I mirrored fellow sunrise goers up the narrow three-kilometre-terrain swarmed of trekkers and motorbikes omitting heavy fumes. My frustration against the traffic boosted my leg power to cut the line and briskly walk ahead of everyone else, losing track of the group behind me. That was until Jessica, a seasoned-runner and part of the group, trailed close on. It was merely the two of us, along with a big family of German tourists who skedaddled the dark abyss. Thank the stars for their consistent waves of their phones’ flashlights guiding our path.
“Where is everyone else?” I asked Jessica while we stood by the side of a curb to avoid the motorbikes drifting. “I’m not sure,” she replied. “I’m not even sure where we’re supposed to go.” Neither did I.
Suddenly, we heard a chant: “MORA?” Finally, someone from our squad. I jumped in utter joy seeing the gleam of stalls and motorbikes ahead. We carefully slid through the traffic near the end of the path. Ramzi, part of Ciliwung Camp, found us then guided us to the designated stall. “Mas, is there a bathroom?” I asked - that was my motivation to glide uphill sooner.
Some members of the group were seated comfortably with a hot cup in their hands in front of a natural heater. I took part with a cup of chocolate Energen in the stall across while waiting for our cue to catch the sun awaken.
Tick tock, tick tock. We strode to the sunrise point flocked by dozens of worldwide visitors. Mount Bromo’s charm was accompanied by the cold, fresh wind gently gushing onto my skin. It’s as if all of my life worries got blown away with the wind - an ode to letting go and ushering in my 29th chapter of life. Faint fog overshadowed the mountain - and the sun. Collectively disappointed, everyone laughed it off to uplift the mood.
Tons of pictures were taken. “Kak, follow me,” said Ramzi. “Where?” I asked. He said nothing else but “to down". I had no idea what that meant. Ramzi bent over the concrete fence, and turned around inviting me with a look. Perplexed (and so was everybody else looking at me), I followed his footsteps on the sandy hill where he eventually told me to stop. I am terrified of heights but the view from here was gorgeous! Everyone else wanted a piece of this gem.
At once, the fog faded away, melted by the ray of light. There was Bromo making an acquaintance to nature lovers.
The trek downhill was stunning as my sights were spoiled with the natural surroundings coming to life after a 3 AM trek in the dark. “Jeep number seven is here, kak,” pointed out Ramzi walking beside me. Oddly enough, this stroll felt shorter.
The recipe to revel in the golden sunrise of Mount Bromo involves three ingredients: Make sure you’re layered up, don’t forget to bring your camera, and most of all, squeeze in as much as snooze as you can. Now you’re all set to enjoy a breakfast picnic.