Bromo, 2012. I hiked at 4 in the morning for the magical sunrise people were fussing about, but all I saw was fog. Thick white fog.

Bromo, 2013. Second chance was fired. Flew to East Java again and followed my flashlight hiking in the dark again. Still, her beauty was concealed behind fog. Thick white fog.

Bromo, 2014. Stunning pictures of her iconic sunrise turned me green with envy. She had jilted me twice, but it didn’t compromise my determination to witness her charm with my own eyes. Right before I prepared myself for the third attempt, her neighbour, Mt. Kelud, erupted. Hot lava and thick ash was bursted to the sky. Merciless and aggressive. Only the brave were lured to go nearby the outrage.

Bromo, 2015. Her neighbour was yet dormant again. Calmness and tranquility irradiate. My third attempt was finally fired, and this time, with bolder confidence, I brought clients for pre-wedding photo shoot.

The picturesque volcano wasn’t as shy as before. When she slowly uncovered her thick white veil, she revealed terrains that staggeringly looked like from another planet. There’s a savannah, where the golden glow of the sun kissed schools of wildflowers and made them sparkle. There’s also sea of black soil surrounding the 820,000-years-old peak, which creates a surreal landscape. I was addicted. I convinced more clients to there, and managed to go back for the fourth and fifth visit, all in one year. As Bromo became friendlier each time I said hello to her, I kept on discovering more gorgeous sceneries all over her to explore.

Let me introduce you to Farel and Shekina, a man of class and a lady of grace. Lovers who stole a piece of time to make memories at the massive Tengger caldera, a serene place on earth where Bromo and rows of Java’s most beautiful and deadly volcanoes are sleeping.

Cheers,

Adi.