Into the crater

Climbing up to the highest point of the volcano was nasty, but at least the worst part was over. Wasn’t it? After a quick doze outside the tent and some breakfast, we set off again with our backpacks. This time we would be climbing right down into the crater of the volcano and camping by the lake. No problem.

Actually, there was a problem. The scenery was spectacular, but the path was so dangerous that we didn’t appreciate it properly. There were jagged rocks, slippery slopes, huge steps, and lots of dust all the way down the narrow path. This was the place where an American guy had fallen and died a few months before so we took it very slowly. It took us 3 and a half hours to get down and by the time we got to the lake we were utterly fed up and exhausted. We collapsed, too tired to get the wet wipes out wondering why we had chosen to do this to ourselves. We should be sitting by some pool with a cocktail.

We were a short distance away from the lake and we went over to have a look. The edges were a bit murky. Some people were fishing but no one was swimming. So much for getting clean. I overheard the Spanish group talking about some hot springs. I heard one of them mention that next to the springs there was “una tienda” (which means “shop” in Spanish). I was half dozing but I could have sworn that one of them said she had bought an ice cream. I told David that there was a shop selling ice cream and he thought I was mad. Why would there be a shop in a crater of a volcano 2 days walk from the nearest village? And if there was a shop, would it really be selling ice-cream? He had a point. We walked down to investigate anyway but David refused to bring any money with him.

After a short walk, three natural hot pools and a waterfall awaited. It was very tempting; we were dirty and aching. We were wearing our swimming gear under our clothes and David wasted no time and jumped straight in. I was a little more reluctant as there were groups of local men sitting watching the show. The show? A bunch of European women taking baths in skimpy swimwear. I have lived long enough in Islamic countries to know what a big deal this is. We were the afternoon entertainment. Some of the Spanish girls were just leaving, but there was just one German woman bathing and (obliviously) drawing the crowds. No guesses why: she was rather large and her bikini was about 3 sizes too small for her. In fact, at one point she fell out of it! I waited for her to finish and leave, went down to the water wearing my sarong and slipped in to the deepest pool as decorously as I could. Once I was in, I didn’t care who was looking, it felt so good being immersed in really hot water.

I bet you are wondering whether there was actually a shop selling ice cream. Only in my dreams. People from all over Lombok come to use the hot springs because of their healing properties and camp next to the pools. There were a few tents set up where the men were smoking the fish that they had caught in the lake. I suddenly remembered that the word “tienda” can also mean “tent”. I must have dreamed the “ice cream” part. Ah well.