Waking up in the inn, down by the lake, up top of a volcano, isn’t only a mouthful, it’s a rad place to set out from if you intend to ride the sides of a lava field.
We have to zig through a conifer plantation, which is mentally out of place in Bali, then zag past rich market gardens of plump ripe Roma tomatoes until we finally emerge at a place as desolate as the dark side of the moon. Sharp craggy rocks with a bump infested driveway lead us on a crooked path that finally ends at this field of fine dark grey pumice.
It’s still early and yesterdays rain still inhabits the porous post eruption cover making it this perfect carpet for fanging about on. People just head off in different directions. Something for everyone.
