“You lost sir? Follow us.”
Two men emerge from the dark beside me like a mirage, puffing clove cigarettes and twirling large bamboo shoulder baskets over their heads. Their names, they say, are Addis and Sukarno, and they will show me the path into Ijen crater.
It’s a few minutes after 4 a.m., and not five minutes earlier, my “English-speaking guide,” [who didn’t speak a lick of English], had dropped me at a grassy knoll in this remote corner of East Java’s puffing interior with one less-than-illuminating instruction: “walking.” With that, he pointed along a line perpendicular to the road and drove off.
The facts about the path ahead, as I know them, are as follows: The long walk into Ijen crater will include sharp drops, slippery steps and a toxic lake that claimed the life of a French backpacker a few years ago. At 2,600 meters (8,530 feet), Ijen is also a working mine where men carry up to 100 kilos (220 pounds) of sulfur by hand out of the noxious crater and down the volcano’s outer slopes to a weigh station as many as three times a day, six days a week.