Sudden plumes of sulfurous smoke rose up, assaulting my nostrils with an unpleasant smell. Everyone in the group felt a burning sensation in their throats. After that grueling ordeal, Ijen treated us to a breathtaking view.

After leaving Bromo Tengger Semeru National Park, I returned to my homestay at 9 am. I only had a brief two hours to rest before continuing my journey to Banyuwangi city for the next six hours of exploration. During this trip, I spent more time sleeping in the car than in the hotel.

Banyuwangi is home to Ijen Acid Lake, considered the world's largest acid lake and a popular destination for adventure seekers. Before the trip, I had prepared myself with basic knowledge and experience for exploring this place. It's famous for its blue flames formed from burning sulfur and its stunning turquoise acid lake.

Today's trip was much more strenuous than yesterday's. My group and I had to trek over 3km along a path with slopes ranging from 40 to 60 degrees, in the freezing 10-degree Celsius weather. This tour was just as crowded as the Bromo volcano. Along the way, if you looked back, you would see countless lights illuminating the entire route.

Lack of sleep, coupled with the steep slopes, meant that my group and I had to stop and rest several times. The "rickshaw taxis" were always waiting for exhausted passengers to offer their services. The locals here are very adept at exploiting tourists for economic gain. They possess incredible strength and don't shy away from hard work. Carrying an average adult weighing 70kg up to the summit of a mountain over 1000 meters high seems impossible, yet they still do it, with three people pulling and pushing each "rickshaw taxi." Each trip costs 800,000 Rupiah.

Wanting to challenge myself, I decided to trek to the summit. However, another problem arose: the famous blue flame only appears from 4 am and dies out very quickly before dawn. To arrive on time, my group and I had to speed up because not only did we have to reach the summit, but I also had to continue climbing down to the crater rim for another 40 minutes to reach the sulfur burning point.

This was an optional activity on the trip because the burning sulfur fumes could hinder breathing. Without a gas mask, it was easy to suffocate, or at worst, faint. We were given very thorough instructions to consider whether this activity was suitable for our health conditions. I was one of those who decided to approach the blue flame.

The descent, though only 40 minutes long, was just as challenging as the ascent. The terrain was rugged, with volcanic dust clinging to the rocks, making them slippery. The darkness and rising sulfurous fumes further hampered visibility. Without caution, one could easily slip and fall into the abyss. Surprisingly, however, the more dangerous a place is, the more people are drawn to it. Seeing the eager faces of the groups descending only reinforced my belief that this place must be a paradise for adventurers.

After 40 minutes of struggling, I finally reached the bottom of the mountain. Through the hazy sulfurous smoke, I saw a group of people gathered on a cliff. That was where the blue flame was. Everyone knows that when sulfur is burned, it produces a blue flame. On the cracking solid blocks of sulfur, the blue flames snaked through the crevices like glowing snakes.

It is known that before the pandemic, tourists couldn't stand too close because the fire burned so fiercely. After tourism reopened, the locals came up with a solution: they stationed security guards there, taking turns pouring water on the fire to cool it down, allowing tourists to get closer. To do this, tourists were advised by their guides to tip the guards 20,000 Rupiah per person.

Because we were so close to the fire, inhaling sulfur dioxide was unavoidable. Sudden plumes of sulfurous smoke rose into my nostrils, filling me with an unpleasant smell. Everyone in the group felt their eyes sting and their throats burn. Staying any longer was impossible, so after witnessing the fire firsthand, I quickly left. The sky above was also beginning to brighten.

As dawn broke, the blue flames began to die down. When they finally faded, they left behind a thick column of smoke that spread everywhere and lasted until sunrise. Those who didn't manage to climb out of the mountain's mouth in time were engulfed by the smoke, making breathing extremely difficult.

This is also when the sulfur miners begin their work. The Tengger men, with their weathered faces, sun-tanned skin, and heavy loads, walk in the opposite direction of the tourists. They have no protective equipment, not even gas masks.

Above the mountain's rim, some locals are selling carved sulfur sculptures in the shapes of flowers and animals to tourists for 30,000 Rupiah per item.

To see the sun rise and shine on the lake, I had to move to a higher place. It was almost 5 am, and the acid lake was still obscured by a layer of sulfur fumes. According to the tour guide, no matter how good the weather was, the acid lake wasn't always clearly visible for visitors to see, because the sulfur fumes constantly rose, creating a hazy scene.

Luckily for me, because I patiently stayed and waited while my friends, due to the cold and suffocation, had already descended the mountain early, by around 7 am, the sulfurous smoke gradually subsided and a stunning turquoise lake slowly appeared, a complete contrast to the eerie scene of the night before.

Above the vantage point overlooking the entire landscape is a long strip of low shrubs. Due to the sulfur-containing air, these shrubs have acquired characteristics necessary for survival, such as small leaves and short stems. Many plants, unable to withstand the harsh conditions, have withered and died. Taller plants have been unable to develop foliage. The scene looks like something straight out of a science fiction movie.

In the morning, more groups of visitors arrive, mostly just to admire the acid lake. These groups include elderly people, and they often use "rickshaws" to get here. Because it was already daylight, I discovered a "convenience store" on the cliff edge selling snacks, instant noodles, and even a public toilet. Once again, I greatly admire the way the people of Tengger make their living.

The sun rose high, its harsh rays shining directly onto the sulfur ore, creating an incredibly dazzling light. I thought it was time to leave. Daylight allowed me to see the steep path more clearly. It turned out the scenery on the mountainside was quite picturesque. Unlike the ecosystem at the top of the mountain, the trees here were lush and verdant, providing shade along the path.

Stepping onto the bus marked the end of my long journey to East Java. The sightseeing moments passed quickly, but getting there required a great deal of time and physical exertion for me and other travelers. Conquering East Java was truly not an easy trip, but I believe the price for everything was well worth it.