Thursday- The Volcano!
Today we based our activities on acquainting ourselves with our vocal friend, Mt Yasur. In the morning we sat on chairs and watched Yasur. This volcano is absolutely enchanting. Watching it is better than watching television (maybe Channel 9 at least). Billowing smoke, tantalising silences punctuated by rumbles or booms. I know I've mentioned it before but really words are inadequate to describe what it's like being this close to the unleashed power of inner earth.
We were pretty keen to visit the ash plain, despite knowing that it could easily be unpleasant if it was really sunny or windy. Full of a great breakfast (really moist bread that we tried to but failed to resist) we lolled along the track, crossing the river, and making our way through forest until we emerged on the plain, overlooked by Yasur. Pumice and other volcanic rocks scattered along the way reminded us that we weren't 100% guaranteed safety. But the volcano looked benign from below, and we enjoyed the photography and rummaging around like tourists. The ash plain is also a road, so several vehicles passed. Every now and then a huge volcanic bang reverberated. We remain in awe.
It was warm and we eventually decided to return. The dilemma that we had started to gnaw at us like a helicobacter infested peptic ulcer... What to sing to Mike and family tonight? Robyn introduced us to a lovely melody..."Mary did you know?" And it seemed entirely suitable. Robyn Mary and Li practised while Peter Trevor and I worked on Daddy Cool. Eventually we relented.. "Mary did you know?", "Peace on the Earth" and encore about alligator infanticide made up our program. A banyan tree provided shade and the forest reverberated with choral sounds. Soon we had an audience of hundreds of beaming children, emerging from the forest, completely hypnotised by the harmonies. Not. No-one appeared but we had fun.
Reinvigorated by singing, we tramped strongly back to our accomodation. We planned to walk to the Volcano tour, and Mike had told us that we should leave at 2pm. We did so, but we weren't prepared for what ensued. After an unremarkable walk, we got to the tour registry desk. Robyn forsook her Australian citizenship and adopted Madagascar as her country of origin. This wasn't necessarily wise. Little did she realise that after an hour long wait (we played I spy and other games while Trevor entertained nearby children) we would be introduced by country. Fortunately R had returned her sign and was Oz again.
Tribal dancing and a safety ceremony for the local chief were over in a jiff and a brief safety briefing in English and French followed. Then we were off... In the back of Utes again! The novelty has worn off for me, but the approach to the volcano involved an impressive driveway and some good driving skills to make sure we didn't fall off the concrete tracks. We chatted to Nikki from South Africa who has been teaching here, and is now moving on to Abu Dubai.
No sooner than we had made ourselves uncomfortable in the back of the utility, we were emerging from vegetation onto a barren ash area that was the car park. I should mention that the last part of the forest driveway was lined by suspiciously steaming rocks, part of the constant Tanna reminder that you are in a volcanic area.
Another safety Briefing...summary "don't fall into the volcano" Don't lean on the handrails...they are not strong.
We ascended and soon we were gazing into the crater. Here's the bit where words are inadequate. Looking down into a windows to deep earth is a unique experience that's impossible to convey without the feeling of your whole body reverberating with the power of the earth, combined with the sense that you are in some sort of primal state.. Something preverbal, or without a language except that one deeply known by all animals. There's an ominousness and an exhilaration - it's all in the mix.
The spectacle of lava skyrocketing skywards and raining down, a pretty glowing light show to accompany the sounds of a disgruntled creaking planet throwing a perpetual guttural slow motion tantrum.. Enough words...
A rainstorm punctuated our spectacle, as if to remind us that nothing natural is really in our control (and how we've lost control!). We sheltered behind a rock wall with the family that Trevor had entertained earlier. The children were scared and wanted to go home. I suspect they are more in touch with the dangers here than we adults, lulled into complacency after years of thrill seeking.
Returning to the lodge area with our SD cards replete with our memories, Mike met us and transported us home to a lovely meal. After G and Ts and chocolate, we were ready for bed.
We were pretty keen to visit the ash plain, despite knowing that it could easily be unpleasant if it was really sunny or windy. Full of a great breakfast (really moist bread that we tried to but failed to resist) we lolled along the track, crossing the river, and making our way through forest until we emerged on the plain, overlooked by Yasur. Pumice and other volcanic rocks scattered along the way reminded us that we weren't 100% guaranteed safety. But the volcano looked benign from below, and we enjoyed the photography and rummaging around like tourists. The ash plain is also a road, so several vehicles passed. Every now and then a huge volcanic bang reverberated. We remain in awe.
It was warm and we eventually decided to return. The dilemma that we had started to gnaw at us like a helicobacter infested peptic ulcer... What to sing to Mike and family tonight? Robyn introduced us to a lovely melody..."Mary did you know?" And it seemed entirely suitable. Robyn Mary and Li practised while Peter Trevor and I worked on Daddy Cool. Eventually we relented.. "Mary did you know?", "Peace on the Earth" and encore about alligator infanticide made up our program. A banyan tree provided shade and the forest reverberated with choral sounds. Soon we had an audience of hundreds of beaming children, emerging from the forest, completely hypnotised by the harmonies. Not. No-one appeared but we had fun.
Reinvigorated by singing, we tramped strongly back to our accomodation. We planned to walk to the Volcano tour, and Mike had told us that we should leave at 2pm. We did so, but we weren't prepared for what ensued. After an unremarkable walk, we got to the tour registry desk. Robyn forsook her Australian citizenship and adopted Madagascar as her country of origin. This wasn't necessarily wise. Little did she realise that after an hour long wait (we played I spy and other games while Trevor entertained nearby children) we would be introduced by country. Fortunately R had returned her sign and was Oz again.
Tribal dancing and a safety ceremony for the local chief were over in a jiff and a brief safety briefing in English and French followed. Then we were off... In the back of Utes again! The novelty has worn off for me, but the approach to the volcano involved an impressive driveway and some good driving skills to make sure we didn't fall off the concrete tracks. We chatted to Nikki from South Africa who has been teaching here, and is now moving on to Abu Dubai.
No sooner than we had made ourselves uncomfortable in the back of the utility, we were emerging from vegetation onto a barren ash area that was the car park. I should mention that the last part of the forest driveway was lined by suspiciously steaming rocks, part of the constant Tanna reminder that you are in a volcanic area.
Another safety Briefing...summary "don't fall into the volcano" Don't lean on the handrails...they are not strong.
We ascended and soon we were gazing into the crater. Here's the bit where words are inadequate. Looking down into a windows to deep earth is a unique experience that's impossible to convey without the feeling of your whole body reverberating with the power of the earth, combined with the sense that you are in some sort of primal state.. Something preverbal, or without a language except that one deeply known by all animals. There's an ominousness and an exhilaration - it's all in the mix.
The spectacle of lava skyrocketing skywards and raining down, a pretty glowing light show to accompany the sounds of a disgruntled creaking planet throwing a perpetual guttural slow motion tantrum.. Enough words...
A rainstorm punctuated our spectacle, as if to remind us that nothing natural is really in our control (and how we've lost control!). We sheltered behind a rock wall with the family that Trevor had entertained earlier. The children were scared and wanted to go home. I suspect they are more in touch with the dangers here than we adults, lulled into complacency after years of thrill seeking.
Returning to the lodge area with our SD cards replete with our memories, Mike met us and transported us home to a lovely meal. After G and Ts and chocolate, we were ready for bed.
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