By telling us your country of residence we are able to provide you with the most relevant travel insurance information.
Please note that not all content is translated or available to residents of all countries. Contact us for full details.
Shares
"You alright?" Martin asked, not even puffed. I'd thought my steep driveway would be sufficient training for this, but apparently not. Half way up the volcano and I was starting to second guess my choices. My chest moved like a bellows making me suck in air involuntarily, and still my lungs couldn't hold enough. The black face of Mount Batur was all I could see. That, and tiny red dots. "Yeah, just needed some water," I lied, my head spinning. "You guys go ahead, I'm just going to look at the view," I said, only just noticing the golden lights strewn across the black fields. I was thankful for the dark night which hid my burning, scarlet face. Martin and our tiny Balinese guide were two white specks disappearing around a muddy boulder, and I was pretty sure I was having a heart attack. Great. Most people get Bali-belly, or methanol poisoning. Not me. I was going to have a coronary on the side of a mountain. When I finally had control of my breath again I reached a sweaty hand up and grabbed hold of the rocks above me, pulling myself another metre toward the top. In what was probably the slowest ascent known to man I trudged upward and cursed myself for taking on the task so lightly. When we finally climbed over the last ridge and onto flat ground I felt like prostrating myself on the dirt and giving my thanks to the gods for helping me. I refrained. Our guide, in tired sneakers with a hole near the toe wasn't even sweating. He laughed at me and led Martin and I to a three roomed tin shack where we collapsed next to a smoky fire. As my blood pressure returned to a healthier rate, more trekkers started to trickle through the shack, sucking on bottles of water and laughing about their journey. Slowly, the sun started to peak through the clouds throwing the world into shades of blue. Wild monkeys started pouring out of the heart of the volcano to greet the morning and the strangers with bananas. They leaped from every still surface, stealing food from the unsuspecting tourists, not in any way afraid of them. The air was full with the dewy smell of dawn. Martin and I huddled beneath a towel - the only warm thing we had thought to bring up with us - and watched the surrounding fields turn from blue, to gold and eventually to green. Laughter rang out as people peered down into the unfathomably deep volcanic mouth to catch a glimpse of the steam pouring out. A baby monkey leaped onto the bench next to me. Together we sat in the clouds and watched the world wake up.