Fat Camp in Indonesia – (Part 1 Continued)

So when we last left our brave volcano-climber, I had reached the top very tired but happy to have done it, and grateful for the beautiful sunrise and cute monkeys playing on top of the volcano and acting as great photography subjects. We wandered about on the top, taking photos, saying wow wow, then having a nice breakfast.

(editor’s note: you may get grossed out by the following, but if you don’t mind and need a laugh, read on. I debated whether or not to post this, but hey, let’s get personal.)

After breakfast though, I immediately felt ill. I had to go to the bathroom but of course there was no toilet at the top of a volcano. “Should I wait until I get down to the bottom?” I thought. But then I realized, no, that would not be possible, I had to go, and I had to go now. And I didn’t just have to pee, I had to go to the bathroom. Like, ooh, breakfast is not sitting quite right, stomach cramps kind of have to go to the bathroom. I’ve never shat in the woods, or on the top of a volcano for that matter, or really anywhere other than a toilet before, so my mind (as well as my stomach) is churning. Oh god, how will I bury it on the top of the volcano? What if I don’t have enough tissue? What if someone comes around the corner? Oh bugger it, I have to go! And you know, it was actually kind of refreshing. I mean, it was better than going in a really grungy public toilet. And one of my friends agreed to stand guard for me so there were no close encounters with strangers descending the volcano.

Shortly after my first contribution, we started our decent, which should take about two hours. But unfortunately, I didn’t feel any better. I’d be walking and walking, or in some cases, trying not to slide down the volcano, when the pain would return. In fact, I had to visit the outdoor little girls’ room twice more on the way down the volcano. What a mess. Could my stomach not have picked a more opportune time to get sick? I have no idea what it was but I assume it was the spice in the food again that did it, because that was not nice poo. Not nice at all. It was horrible, such a horrible experience. I should be enjoying nature and the views and the experience of this volcano, but all I concentrate on is not getting sick. But at least there were some woods for me to do what I needed to do, and hey, there was a nice cool breeze on my arse. Oh it’s funny how we can make light of things days or even hours after they happen, while at the time all you want to do is roll over and die.

So I guess, in addition to the fat camp exercise regime, the travel gods decided to bless me with a little stomach malfunction to try to get me back to my normal size. That’s been going on now off and on for about two weeks, and strangely enough, I am just about back to my normal size. I guess you have to be careful what you wish for, because damnit, I'd love to eat some food now without wondering if it is going to make me sick soon after.

Anyway, on the bright side of all of this, after we made it down the volcano and having a brief lie-down in the shade whilst waiting for the others to descend, I got just what the doctor ordered. We went to hot springs just around the corner from the bottom of the volcano (conveniently placed, no?) and man, they were fantastic. It was a beautiful place, with a massive swimming pool, plus two hot pools to rest and rejuvenate our tired muscles. The hot pools even had little waterfall spout thingies that we could strategically place ourselves under for instant shoulder massages (or leg or foot massages, if you could position yourself just right.) It was a great way to end the tiring morning, and nice just to float around and decompress, and thankfully, feel a bit better.

More again soon. I am actually back in Thailand now but am still catching up on my Indonesia stories. Mom and I are having a great time catching up, and, stomach-permitting, are trying to take Bangkok by storm!