No sleep? No road? One giant mountain to top? Bromo awaited–could our rag-tag band of sometimes-teachers conquer the rumbling giant of East Java?
The ancient city sleeps: an empty street, dark splintered by a naked streetlamp, windows clamped with rotting boards, and a rusty bike grinding through the dust. I am the sole waking thing in a feast of broken temples. Welcome to Bagan; welcome to my personal sunrise bike tour. Forgive me the melodrama, but rising at… Continue reading Bagan Nation