From the top rung of Mount Agung….

I was lucky enough to be let off the leash for a night and a day last weekend to go and climb Bali's highest mountain - the sacred Gunung Agung. four days later, i'm still mesmerised by the experience...and my thighs have only just stopped abusing me at every step for cranking them up and down 2000m worth of hill . i went with some friends from the East Bali Project, ten of us in total: half Bule and half Balinese. i confess, i was a little paranoid about not having the right footwear, and so splashed out $30US on a pair of indonesian-issue hikers, only to see some of the group turn up in battered old converse cut offs. As it turns out, i was very needful of the heavy duty boots, especially on the way down when my knees conked out and it became more of a plunge than a descent. Only one of my converse-wearing friends made it, although all of us were fully shamed by the old women who passed us on the way up at about three in the morning, carrying a basket full of offerings and going barefoot! after failing miserably to get any sleep at Pura Pasar Agung on account of the local arak that was making the rounds, we set off at about twelve thirty...in the morning. we were the first group to really get underway on the mountain, and given the pace we managed, this was a sensible move. our 'guide' was Ardika, a friend of a friend who claimed to have made the climb four other times. within an hour of leaving the camp, his sandal broke in two pieces, and, when we couldn't fix it with some electrical tape, he decided to turn around and head back down.. it took another four and a half hours to reach the summit after that, with the last hour and a half…

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