Ethan had been warned about the chilly mornings in Dieng Plateau, but stepping off the minibus after a winding five-hour ride from Yogyakarta, he was still caught off guard. The air here was crisp and cool, a stark contrast to the tropical warmth he had grown accustomed to. The plateau, perched at over 2,000 meters above sea level, seemed like a world of its own—mist-covered hills, terraced fields stretching into the horizon, and an otherworldly stillness that seemed to linger in the air.
He had booked a modest guesthouse run by a friendly local family. The moment he arrived, the owner, Pak Hendro, greeted him with a steaming mug of wedang ronde, a traditional ginger tea with sweet glutinous rice balls. Ethan sipped the tea gratefully, its warmth spreading through his body as Pak Hendro shared tips on exploring the area.
"You must visit Telaga Warna early in the morning," Pak Hendro advised. "The colors are most vibrant when the sun is high, but the crowds can ruin the peace. And don't miss the sunrise at Sikunir Hill—it's worth the climb, even if it's cold."
Ethan nodded, already jotting down notes in his travel journal. His first impression of Dieng was already shaping into something unforgettable.
A Mystical Lake and Legends
The next morning, Ethan rose with the dawn and made his way to Telaga Warna, or the "Colored Lake." The hike to the viewing point was short but steep, the trail winding through lush greenery and patches of wildflowers. As he reached the top, the sight before him took his breath away.
The lake shimmered in hues of turquoise, emerald, and gold, the colors shifting with the movement of the sun and the breeze rippling the water's surface. Surrounding it were steep cliffs and dense forest, adding to the lake's mystical allure.
"This place feels like a painting," Ethan whispered to himself.
A local guide who happened to be leading a small group nearby overheard him and smiled. "There's a legend about this lake," he said, gesturing for Ethan to join them.
The guide explained that Telaga Warna was believed to have been created by the tears of a heartbroken goddess. The lake's colors were said to reflect her emotions—blue for sorrow, green for jealousy, and gold for hope. Ethan listened intently, marveling at how the myths and natural beauty of the region seemed to blend seamlessly.
As he walked around the lake later, he noticed small offerings left by locals at a shrine near the water's edge—flowers, incense, and food items. The quiet reverence of the scene only deepened his appreciation for the spiritual connection the people had with their land.
The Ancient Temples of Dieng
Later that day, Ethan ventured to the Dieng Temples, a cluster of small Hindu shrines scattered across the plateau. Unlike the grandeur of Borobudur or Prambanan, these temples were modest, their stone walls weathered by centuries of wind and rain. Yet there was something deeply compelling about their simplicity.
Each temple was named after characters from the Mahabharata—Arjuna, Puntadewa, Srikandi—a testament to the region's ancient Hindu roots. The temples were thought to date back to the 8th century, making them some of the oldest in Java.
Ethan wandered among the ruins, imagining what life must have been like here centuries ago, when the temples were alive with ceremonies and prayer. In the distance, sulfurous steam rose from the plateau's geothermal vents, adding an almost otherworldly feel to the landscape.
A group of local children played nearby, their laughter echoing across the field. One of them ran up to Ethan, offering him a handful of wild strawberries they had picked. He accepted with a smile, the sweet and tangy flavor of the fruit perfectly complementing the cool mountain air.
The Golden Sunrise of Sikunir Hill
The highlight of Ethan's time in Dieng came on his last morning, when he woke up at 3 a.m. to hike Sikunir Hill. The trail was dark and steep, illuminated only by the faint glow of headlamps and the occasional flashlight. Despite the early hour, there was a quiet camaraderie among the hikers—a shared sense of purpose as they ascended together.
When they reached the summit, Ethan found a spot to sit and wrapped himself in his jacket against the biting cold. As the first light of dawn broke over the horizon, the landscape below began to reveal itself. Rolling hills and terraced fields stretched as far as the eye could see, shrouded in a golden mist that seemed almost magical.
The sun finally rose, bathing everything in a warm, golden light. The sight was so stunning, so perfect, that Ethan felt a lump rise in his throat. Around him, the other hikers broke into applause, a spontaneous expression of awe and gratitude for the moment they had just witnessed.
"This," Ethan thought, "is why I travel. For moments like this."
The Unexpected Geyser
As he descended from Sikunir Hill, Ethan decided to visit the nearby Sikidang Crater, one of Dieng's many geothermal wonders. The crater was a bubbling, steaming expanse of sulfuric pools, its pungent smell filling the air. The ground hissed and gurgled beneath his feet, the energy of the earth itself laid bare.
Ethan watched as a local vendor boiled eggs in one of the hot springs, the sulfur-rich water cooking them in minutes. He bought one, peeling it carefully and savoring the oddly smoky flavor.
"Careful where you step," the vendor warned with a grin. "The earth here can be unpredictable."
Ethan chuckled, but he couldn't help feeling a little awed by the raw, untamed power of the place.
A Quiet Farewell
On his final evening in Dieng, Ethan sat outside the guesthouse, watching the stars appear in the clear mountain sky. The plateau's quiet beauty had left a deep impression on him.
Pak Hendro joined him, bringing two mugs of teh poci, a traditional tea served in small clay teapots. They drank in comfortable silence, the warmth of the tea cutting through the cold night air.
"Where will you go next?" Pak Hendro asked eventually.
"Probably towards Semarang," Ethan said. "I've heard good things about the city and the coast."
"Good choice," Pak Hendro said with a nod. "But remember—wherever you go, it's the people who make the journey worthwhile."
Ethan smiled. "I'll keep that in mind."
As he lay in bed that night, Ethan couldn't help but feel grateful—for the places he'd seen, the people he'd met, and the experiences that had shaped his journey so far. Southeast Asia was turning out to be more than just a destination—it was becoming a part of him.
End of Chapter 16
Ethan's journey takes him from the mystical heights of Dieng to the bustling coast of Semarang. What adventures await him in the next leg of his travels?