A journey into the black

An endless army of feet stretch ahead. They trudge along the rocky path, sweat dampening brows in the humid heat and incline of the slope. Light glistens through the quiet, surrounding rainforest and they feel enveloped in a leafy, serene womb. Animals and birds are silent.

Nico marches up and down the line, jeering and joking to rustle up dwindling energy. Joke after joke are followed by his own uproar, amazed at his own hilarity. He seems immune to the effects of the humidity and endless trek towards the sky. Oh just wait for the surprise that awaits! His face is joyful with excitement.

Sensible black boots and muddy white sneakers steer around rocks and roots, one after another. The feet are too tired to jostle for first place as they did at the start. First place is now no longer their concern. Let’s just make it there! They think.

Light flushes through the canopy and the walkers see that the trees are thinning, smaller, and low brushes begin to rise victorious over the stumpy trees. Even the walkers are silent now. Nico’s jolly, booming voice is the only sound and the silence of the place overwhelms. Vamos! Come! I promise a surprise! He cries.

The walkers’ anxiety grows. They have heard the stories, they know the danger.

Crunching fills the air as the group treks on and upwards. The roots and deep brown soil has become peppered with crunchy black rock that crispy crumples under the walker’s weight. From behind a column of skinny horses emerges, slogging up the slope. Bulbous, swollen tourists perch above their backs, swaying precariously, the ponies’ small feet scrabbling on the black rock to keep them and their weighty mounts upright. Red sausages of arms protrude from singlets proclaiming ‘Singha beer’, and ‘Same same but different’ and their pink, glistening faces break open as they laugh and joke about their steeds and declare the journey a race.

Suddenly, ahead, Nico stops and breathes a sigh of reverence. The walkers clamour forward to the edge of the forest which abruptly ends. Vast valleys of jagged black stretch out ahead, a shimmering mirage. She rises above, enormous, serene, all-powerful. Rivers of boiling red carve through the cloak of black barnacles encrusting her sides. Streams of grey smoke twist from her mouth, shrouding the land stretches out to the horizon at her base.

The trekkers assume this is the end, this is the safest point. Vamos! I promised you a surprise! Nico surges forward and the feet step onto the black.