Traveling, writing and living around the world
“This volcano had seriously better be worth it,” one of the girls said as we sat by the roadside under dead weight of the Indonesian sun.
The local bus we had taken from Bajawa onto the next town of Moni was only supposed to take five to six hours, and our bus wound up taking about double that.
It sounded like the sky was falling down. I could vaguely hear my guide, E-fin, from outside of the tent.
“Excuse me, excuse me. It is now heavy rain. We can go but the walk will be maybe dangerous. A little dangerous, yeah.”
My mind was foggy as I woke myself up. The thought of heading out into the rain was not one that had me jumping out of my sleeping bag, despite how soaked it was from the rain puddling up in the tent. I was actually looking for excuses to stay sleeping.
