We didn’t stay long in Indonesia’s capital. Big cities aren’t my thing. We reached Bogor, sixty kilometres away, and relief at being away from Jakarta’s congestion, washed over me.
A guide soon convinced us to visit Mt Salak the following day. Drizzling rain should have warned me, but there was something about volcanoes I couldn’t resist, though this hike just about cured me. It wasn’t the distance we plodded up the mountain but the condition of the path. After rain, it was muddy and I wasn’t impressed each time I sunk into the quagmire. The sulphur fumes and pockets of bubbling pools at the top however, soon cooled my temper.
After the muddy adventure, we had tea at the guide’s father’s house. It was a pleasure to sit with the family and not long before my daughter collected her first Indonesian pen friend.