The moment the door opened at the House of Sampoerna, the potent scent of kretek – cigarettes made with cloves and tobacco – hit us. The museum was small and as we delved deeper, the smell grew stronger. At the upper floor is a big glass wall overlooking the actual factory. We watched rollers, cutters, and packers of cigarettes as though we were watching videos on fast-forward. All handcrafted, a pack costs $5, paying the employees per piece they make or per pack they finish.

By afternoon, we passed by Gereja Santa Perawan Maria, which was a beautiful Catholic church being renovated. It is the oldest in Surabaya and one of the churches where the small percentage of Catholics come to worship.

The Surabaya Submarine Monument or Monkasel was one of the highlights of the trip, where we went inside an actual submarine that was one of the Indonesian Navy’s fleet that sailed in 1952. As humongous as it was on the outside, it was as cramped and as small on the inside. Seeing the bunk beds and even the captain’s quarters, we gained a newfound respect for those working in the navy. We then visited Muhammad Cheng Hoo Mosque, a mosque in Chinese-style, blending the rich colors of red, gold, and green and the flairs of a Buddhist temple as a reminder that although Chinese in descent, the admiral helped propagate Islam in Java.

“There are no ghosts here, trust me,” joked Sam as we walked through the dimly lighted hall of Hotel Majapahit. A classical landmark resort built in 1910, it greatly resembles the famous Raffles Singapore as both were developed by the Iranian Sarkies Brothers. Fairly small when viewed from the front, it boasts of wide gardens with fountains inside, emphasizing the charming details of its art deco design. We all huddled close to each other during the walk, laughing away the somewhat loneliness of the place, something that is expected of a 106-year-old witness to a city’s history.

OFF TO PRIGEN AND MALANG

Two and a half hours from Surabaya City is the district of Prigen. Expanses of green welcomed us from the expressway, indicating a more relaxed pace of life. We took a quick tour inside Taman Dayu Golf Club and Resort, riding our carts like pros. Designed by golf's living legend Jack Nicklaus, the 18-hole golf course was very well-kept and was surprisingly made special by the presence of women caddies.

The rain was about to fall when we reached Taman Safari II. We watched three healthy white tigers through glass walls as we ate our lunch in the restaurant. Mesmerized by the wild creatures, we found out that they were products of genetic anomalies, making them unique with their white coats and blue eyes. To word it simply, they are mutants (though without superpowers).

We took the safari bus and were asked not get down at any time. The 350 hectares of land was divided into sections for American, European, African, and Asian animals. It was my first time to see a llama in real life and although they were already balding, they still looked they were enjoying their munchies. Brown bears looked so fluffy from afar, and lazy tigers and lions blocked the road while soaking in the sun. There were angry-looking bulls that are called banteng Jawa, which are indigenous to Indonesia. A very interesting spot to visit, the safari is a must especially for families traveling with kids. I’ve never seen so many uncommon animals in my life!

At the end of the day, a mini-rijsttafel was waiting for dinner at Hotel Tugu in Malang. Fifteen dishes were served in a flamboyant performance. Soup, side dishes of satay, fish, chicken, vegetables, egg rolls, and the big crispy peanut flakes were some of those offered. We ate in a long dining table surrounded by family pictures of Oei Tiong Ham who was once the richest man in South East Asia. His daughter’s black and white portrait stared at us in one corner. The food was superb, sweet, spicy, and as always in Indonesia, fresh.

SURVIVING MT BROMO

I was sleeping at the lobby at 2 a.m., waiting for the others for our 3 a.m. call time. “Good morning, girls!” exclaimed Vernon Prieto, our Filipino host, apparently at his 100 percent energy already. Bulky in my double sweaters and the 10°C air brushing my face, I exited our coaster one and a half hours later. It was simply too cold for us Manila people. We rode our 4x4s up Mt. Penanjakan where we got stranded for a while due to the many 4x4s going down. Crowds come here early to witness the sunrise, which we decided to avoid. Once up in the viewing deck, we took in the full, unobstructed sight of the Bromo-Tengger-Semeru National Park. The inactive Mt. Batok sat stately in front of the steaming Mt. Bromo, with Mt. Semeru as their background. Clouds and fog were slowly rolling at the feet of the volcanoes, illuminated by a warm sun. It was a majestic vision to behold, one that will surely not be forgotten.

We went down the rough path to the caldera, known as “Sea of Sand.” With masks covering our noses and mouths, we rode horses to Pura Luhur Poten, a Hindu temple, to seek blessing before going up Mt. Bromo. People were chanting and we were told that the ceremony would take hours, so we opted to go ahead. Vernon bought us flowers to offer the volcano.

It was a hard ride towards the stairway. The 200 steps we were expecting were not even there as they were wiped away by volcanic activity just last April. We toiled our way up Mt. Bromo, securing our feet on the steep sand, tightly holding on to the posts available. Even my cameras were covered in sand. Eventually we reached the top with our knees trembling. There wasn’t much space to stand on and a little false step would send you down the crater. The volcano’s mouth boomed like a massive machine about to explode any minute. We decided to go down when it started spewing too much smoke that it made the crater invisible. I hastily threw my floral offering and worked my way down, sliding.

We ate delicious cup noodles once we got back down below and decided that it’s a once-in-a-lifetime experience we’d always be proud of to have accomplished.

ENCHANTING BATU

We went next to the cold Jambuluwuk Batu Resort just before sunset. We begged for an hour of rest and clean-up before tackling another sumptuous dinner. We settled in our villa and the haunting chant of evening prayer started. I couldn’t resist its draw, so I went up the terrace and soaked myself in a prayer I couldn’t literally understand yet somehow dug deep into me mysteriously. Overlooking the small misty city of Batu, I’ve met and said goodbye to the warmest spirits and surprises of East Java.