My First Skydiving Experience

"What have I gotten myself into?" I thought as I scribbled my initials for the thirtieth time on the longest waiver I'd ever seen. I hadn't been nervous at all in the week leading up to my first tandem skydive, until the moment I read through the extremely thorough legal document that forces you to acknowledge over and over again how your decision to jump could result in your injury or death. It was a little unnerving to say the least. 

I've always wanted to try skydiving, so when my cousin, Savannah, told me she was going for her birthday, I eagerly agreed to jump with her. Our first appointment was canceled due to cloudy weather, but we rescheduled for the next day and I'm so glad we did. It was a beautiful, sunny day with blue cloudless skies and perfect visibility.

Dallas Skydive Center is about 45 minutes northeast of downtown Dallas. We arrived and checked in at the hangar, where we met the staff and our instructors, the people we were ultimately entrusting with our lives. They helped us into our harnesses and quickly went over the rules and instructions for executing a safe jump. My mind was hardly in a calm enough state to remember the order and timing of each thing I was supposed to do in the air. But there was no time to hesitate or back out. We were both ushered into the back of what looked like a miniature toy plane.

My instructor looked very young, like he could have been 29 or 19. His electric blue mohawk made me wonder if it was the latter. As we ducked into the plane, I asked him, "So Ben, how many times have you done this?"

"How many times would make you feel comfortable?" he replied.

"I don't know, somewhere in the triple digits at least."

"Well then let's go with exactly 100."

Okay, cool. He might be new. It's totally fine. I'm totally fine. It's gonna be fine.

The plane took off and we began to make wide circles as we climbed to higher altitudes. My cousin pointed out downtown Dallas far off in the distance. I smiled and nodded, trying not to reveal how much I was freaking out internally. Once we reached 13,500 feet, it was time to jump. The door flew open to a deafening rush of cold wind and I watched as Savannah and her instructor stepped out and disappeared. That's when the reality of it hit me. This was really happening!

As we prepared to go next, Ben turned to me and said, "I was just messing with you earlier. I've been doing this for nine years and have over a thousand jumps logged." Oh, thank God! We scooted to the ledge. I put on my goggles. Ben placed his left foot on the rail and I followed suit. I then couldn't remember whose right foot was supposed to go out first, but I didn't have long to think about it. The next thing I knew, we were jumping and falling at hundreds of feet per second. During the 50 second free fall, the wind pushed against my face, giving me massive chipmunk cheeks and chapped lips and I knew there was no way any of the GoPro photos that were being snapped were going to be flattering. And I was definitely right about that.

Suddenly the parachute released, bringing an instant sense of relief. I thanked God as we slowly drifted back to safe ground. The houses and backyards and tiny swimming pools moved in slow motion like a film sequence beneath my feet. It was surreal and exhilarating and I felt fully alive in that moment.

A video posted by leah richardson (@leahrichardson) on Jun 8, 2016 at 1:45pm PDT

I can't help but marvel at the timing of this skydiving experience. On the Tuesday before my jump, I received some pretty big news about my company that ordinarily would have caused me to stress and worry and be anxious. But if I've learned anything in the last three years, it's that God is good and His timing is perfect and I can fully trust in Him. When I reflect on other times in my life that were marked my uncertainty and doubt, I'm able to now see God's faithfulness in bringing me through those situations and out of fear and into greater joy.

I know that I could very well be in for a bumpy road ahead. Between job searching and preparing for a big trip abroad, a lot could go wrong in the next month or two. But I know that there are good things in store for me and I've been blessed with a wonderful community who will help support me along the way.

For God doesn't give us a spirit of fear, but one of power and love and self control (2 Timothy 1:7). Beginning a new chapter may be terrifying, but as I step out into the unknown, I know that the parachute will eventually open, the clouds will part, and I'll land safely on my feet again.

"Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus." Philippians 4:6-7

2016 Goals

I know it's been a while since my last post. Okay, so that's a major understatement. I'm still learning how to balance my life in Dallas between working full-time, keeping up with friends, staying active, and serving in the community. It's been a season for growth and learning and figuring out what matters most and what I want to do next.

Admittedly, many of my creative endeavors have been put on hold. However, I plan to change that in 2016. There's a big project I've wanted to start for three years and I think this will be the year it can finally come to fruition. I'll elaborate more on that later. But for now, here's a simple list of the things I'm hoping to accomplish in 2016:

1. Complete the Learning Indonesian podcast series
2. Go back to Indonesia
3. Go camping with friends
4. Go rock climbing outdoors
5. Take a self defense class
6. Learn DSLR photography
7. Get an articled published
8. Buy a guitar and learn how to play it

What are your goals for the new year? To read some of my tips for creating new year goals, check out the blog post I wrote for my company here.

An Island Divided

In the Caribbean, east of Puerto Rico and South of Anguilla, is a small island called Sint Maarten (or Saint Martin, depending on who you ask.) The tiny island is divided into two territories: the south (Sint Maarten) belongs to the Kingdom of the Netherlands, while the north (Saint Martin) is owned by France.

I traveled there with two of my friends in September, for a week-long vacation. We stayed with another friend who is attending medical school on the Dutch side of the island. While he spent the day in class or the library, we drove around in search of French pastries. We got lost (a lot), we read our books on the beach and swam in the aquamarine sea. It was a relaxing and soul-restoring trip. Short, but very sweet.

Here are a few notes & recommendations from my stay:

Dutch side:

• Mullet Bay Beach- was my favorite beach out of the half dozen we visited. It was usually uncrowded, quiet and clean. There's also a great reef to snorkel at on the north side of the beach that is teeming with fish and the occasional stingray. 

• Top Carrot- located in Simpson Bay, this cafe is a great place to go for breakfast, lunch or even just a coffee. The menu is mostly Mediterranean with plenty of healthy and vegetarian options. They also have baked goods, juices and smoothies.

• Carousel- a gelateria with a carousel inside. Celebrate your inner child by getting a double scoop and going round the carousel till you turn dizzy.

• The Greenhouse- a restaurant and bar with a fun atmosphere right on the beach. Their grilled mahi mahi was delicious.

• Dive Safaris- a good dive shop located in Simpson Bay. It had been over a year since I donned a tank and fins, but the staff did a great job at easing my nerves and making sure I felt comfortable and safe during both boat dives. My favorite site was Big Mama's Reef, because I got to pet a nurse shark. It was so cool!

French side:

• Banana Cafe- a cute little outdoor cafe in the heart of Marigot with crepes and made-to-order juices and smoothies. It was not busy when we stopped in, so we had a chance to chat with the quirky owner for a bit and hear her conspiracy theories and meet her pet kitten.

• Loterie Farm / Pic Paradis- I highly recommend taking half a day to visit the Loterie Farm nature preserve. There are ziplining routes, an on-sight restaurant, lounge and pool. My friends and I did a self-guided hike to the highest point on the island, Pic Paradis, which only cost 5 euro. I loved getting to spend time in nature and see a part of the island that is untouched by development.
• Grand Case- I  favored the French side of the island for its food, culture and neighborhood feel. Grand Case is a great day trip for its beaches, water activities and beachside restaurants. 

{hiking at Pic Paradis}

{Grand Case}

You might be wondering, "Where is the photo of the airplane flying over her head?" This is the classic tourist photo that everyone comes home from St Maarten with. Well, sorry to disappoint, but I didn't attempt to get this shot. Maho Beach was smaller than I imagined, noisy (due to the proximity to the airport), and packed with cruise-ship tourists (due to its proximity to bars and casinos). It wasn't my cup of tea and my friends and I didn't stay here long, since there were so many other beaches worth exploring.

Have you been to St Maarten before? What highlights did I miss here, and what should I see on my next trip? Let me know in the comments below!

Finding Home

Last weekend I drove to the town where I grew up to celebrate Easter with my family. All my life, I've called this town and the house where I was raised "home." However on three separate occasions during the weekend, I referred to Dallas as home--two words that two years ago, I never would have imagined belonging in the same sentence together. 

At this time in 2013, I had just returned home from what I thought was my greatest adventure--a seven-month solo backpacking trip on the opposite side of the world. I returned to living with my family in my small hometown again, without employment, a sense of independence or any certainty about my life. Those four months broke me and tested my patience and faith in every way possible. After dozens of job applications and multiple rounds of interviews in places like Houston, Austin, DC, Fort Worth and even Guyana (yes, the country), I began to lose hope that I would ever find a job. 

And then one morning, I randomly decided to apply for a job in Dallas. And in less than 24 hours, I received a phone call from the CEO and a formal offer letter. Some might attribute this to a stroke of "right time, right place" kind-of-luck, but I knew it was more than that. I suddenly felt an overwhelming sense of assurance and certainty that Dallas is where God wanted me to be. And so just like that, I packed my things into my little car and moved to Dallas.

It may not have been the easiest transition, but I now can look back on that period of waiting and uncertainty with joy and appreciation. It taught me that I am not in control of everything and I relearned how to trust in God's plan for my life. Reflecting on this time, I'm reminded of Psalm 23: 

The Lord is my shepherd, I lack nothing.

He makes me lie down in green pastures,

He leads me beside quiet waters,

He refreshes my soul.

He guides me along the right paths for his name's sake.

Even though I walk through the darkest valley,

I will fear no evil, for you are with me; 

your rod and your staff, they comfort me.

I'm so thankful for a God who loves me and guides me in the right direction, even when I'm a stubborn little sheep with my own agenda. His patience and faithfulness were greater than my impatience and prejudices against a city I barely knew. Though I never could have pictured myself living in Dallas then, I'm happy to now call this place home. And I know that no matter where life's journey takes me, as long as I put my trust in the Lord, he'll always lead me home.

La Jolla

Here's another retrospective post, because lately my blog and I never seem to be in the same place. This day spent in La Jolla provided some much needed time by the sea. The pedestrian trail along the coast reminded me of the Coastal Walk in Sydney and I wish it was a walk I could take all the time. Each time I visit California, I have to list out reasons in my head for why I shouldn't move there, because the mountains and sea and trees convince me otherwise. I'd love to find my way back to the coast some day, but for now, I'll enjoy short seaside visits like this one.

San Diego

In January, I had the opportunity to attend a TEDx event in San Diego, hosted by Semester at Sea. This was the second TEDx Semester at Sea event, and I was thrilled when I found out the venue was the MV Explorer, the very same vessel which served as my home and campus in Summer 2010. The theme was "Ripples, Waves and Wakes," and each of the speeches had a common theme around taking risks and how one small move can inspire a ripple effect of change. One of the speakers was my talented friend and former shipmate, Charu Sharma. You can watch her speech as well as the others online.

Being back on the ship, brought back a thousand memories. I snuck off to the fourth deck and found my old cabin, 4043, from whose window I used to daydream and count flying fish and dolphins. It was great to reconnect with familiar faces and meet some of the new students who were set to embark on the Spring 2014 voyage the following morning. They were nervous and excited, and all the other same emotions I felt on the eve of my adventure at sea. When they asked for my advice, I told them not to take a single moment for granted, because the semester would be over as soon as it began. I couldn't help but be a little envious of them, for it was this journey that gave me the passion for traveling and learning, and I'd do anything to be able to experience it all over again.

{my passport still proudly displays my SAS student ID sticker}

{coffee & Kerouac for this solo traveler}

{San Diego Botanic Garden}

{Explore. Dream. Discover. -Mark Twain}

{The MV Explorer}

{street art in downtown San Diego}

Songs for the Journey Home

I've never been one of those people who returns from a vacation to say, "That place was great, but I'm so glad to be back," or "It was the best trip of my life, but I missed you guys. It's good to be in the office again." No, I'm usually the one who stays awake through the last night of a trip just to see one last sunrise, tearing up as I board the plane and gazing out the window as the land and its people grow small and disappear beneath the ethereal clouds. One of the hardest things about traveling and meeting new friends is the uncertainty of when or if you'll see each other again. But as I've learned time and time again...

All good adventures must come to an end so that new ones can begin.

So whether you're homesick or simply on your way home, here's a playlist to help you through it:

 

Blogshop Austin

Now that I'm out of college, its seems more difficult to find opportunities (and time) to continue to learn new skills. For the last two years I've wanted to build up my design chops starting with Adobe Photoshop. So when I heard that Blogshop was coming to Austin last December, I decided to take the leap and sign up for it.

Blogshop is a two-day Photoshop bootcamp for bloggers and content creators. Los Angeles-based Bri Emery and Angela Kohler started the workshop in 2011 and have traveled as far as Sydney and Berlin to host these classes, which seem to sell out as soon as they're announced.

My experience at Blogshop was great! As someone who had hadn't even opened Photoshop before the class, I now feel comfortable navigating the program and using shortcuts to create shapes and images that used to take me hours to do. My classmates included photographers, small business owners and bloggers from all over the map, and the classroom was the prettiest one I'd ever seen with rustic flower arrangements, mismatched chairs and sweet little succulents. All these details created an inspiring environment to learn and dream up ideas. I left Austin that weekend feeling both exhausted by the amount of new things I learned and renewed by the inspiring environment and creative women that surrounded me.

If you're serious about taking your blog to the next level, I highly recommend Blogshop. Click here to see if Bri and Angela are coming to your city. And if they're not, you can now sign up for an online version and learn from the comfort of your home. See more of the pretty little details of Blogshop ATX including the goodies we received on the Blogshop Blog.

{Images 3, 5, 6 taken by the Blogshop girls}

An inspiring quote for the budding creatives:

“Nobody tells this to people who are beginners, I wish someone told me. All of us who do creative work, we get into it because we have good taste. But there is this gap. For the first couple years you make stuff, it’s just not that good. It’s trying to be good, it has potential, but it’s not. But your taste, the thing that got you into the game, is still killer. And your taste is why your work disappoints you. A lot of people never get past this phase, they quit. Most people I know who do interesting, creative work went through years of this. We know our work doesn’t have this special thing that we want it to have. We all go through this. And if you are just starting out or you are still in this phase, you gotta know its normal and the most important thing you can do is do a lot of work. Put yourself on a deadline so that every week you will finish one story. It is only by going through a volume of work that you will close that gap, and your work will be as good as your ambitions. And I took longer to figure out how to do this than anyone I’ve ever met. It’s gonna take awhile. It’s normal to take awhile. You’ve just gotta fight your way through.” -Ira Glass

New Beginnings

Oh hey, February. This new year is already going by quicker than I'd like it to, though I'm quite ready for winter to be over. I've been busy working on my 2014 resolutions, of which there are many. This year I want to:

• Read 12 books. One for every month. This may not seem like a big goal for some, but I have a bad habit of starting several books at the same time and this will at least encourage me to finish what I begin.
• Acquire 6 new skills. I'm not sure which six I'll cross off my list, but I've been spending these first 2 months trying to learn how to rock climb. And all I can say so far is that it's not going as smoothly as I hoped.
• Travel to 4 new places. Since I can't spend 1/3 of the year traveling like I did in 2013, I think it's a reasonable goal to go somewhere new each season.
• Get involved in the community.

I'm probably most excited about this last goal. I've spent the last few months adjusting to a new city, all the while questioning whether it was really the right place for me. But now that I'm approaching the six-month hurdle, I can honestly say I feel more comfortable with where I am right now than I ever did throughout all of last year. I recently signed a 15-month lease on a new apartment--one of the most long-term decisions I've made in a while. Six months ago, this would have filled me with anxiety and uncertainty, but now I just feel content, which is a foreign feeling for me. While I'm not anywhere near ready to permanently plant my roots, I am looking forward to building real relationships with people, finding an ongoing volunteer opportunity, buying some furniture, and simply being okay with staying in one place for a while. This year I resolve to stop constantly worrying about what comes next and asking myself, "What am I doing?" Instead, I intend to be joyful in the place where God has led me and make the absolute most of it while I'm here.

15 Things I Miss About Sydney

An ice storm hit DFW on Friday night, and as a result, I've been stuck in my apartment for most of weekend. The trouble with snow in Texas is that it's such a rarity so when it does actually happen, we don't know how to prepare for or handle it. The roads are too icy to safely drive anywhere and even the sidewalks have become so slick that even the slightest incline is sure to send you to the ground. (I learned this the hard way yesterday when I attempted the short walk to my mailbox-- it wasn't pretty. Just ask my neighbors).

Being trapped in my little apartment makes me long for sunshine and summer and the sea. I can't help but be a little nostalgic for Sydney and the things that made it special. Here are just a few of the things I miss about this city:

1. Being able to walk to work every day
2. Public transportation-- trains, ferries, and even those pesky buses
3. The beaches, bays and coves, of which there are many
4. The mountains--just a short, cheap train ride away
5. The gigantic flying-foxes that emerge at dusk every night
6. The Coastal Walk
7. Beautiful cockatoos and lorikeets that fly freely and hang out on balconies
8. Victorian architecture
9. Hip neighborhoods like Darlinghurst, Surry Hills, Glebe, Newtown and King's Cross 
10. My dive shop and the amazing marine life I saw while scuba diving
11. The jacarandas in spring
12. Centennial Park
13. The coffee! Now that it's cold here, all I want to order is a flat white or a piccolo latte. I also love that chocolate flakes are standard on the Australian cappuccino, and I wish it were the same way here.
14. Passion fruits
15. Words like brekkie, mozzie and fairy floss which are both ridiculous and ridiculously cute

Bondi Beach

Surfboards on the bus

Sydney's skyline as seen from the Manly ferry

a perfect cappuccino made with chocolate sprinkles

I loved the balconies on these two-story homes

Lorikeets-- an example of Australia's colorful wildlife

The Blue Mountains

Jacarandas and their purple blossoms which cover the streets like confetti

I came across an old Welsh word the other day--hiraeth. While there's no exact translation in English, here's a definition I saw on Pinterest:

I think this word perfectly captures how I feel about Sydney. I do miss many things about it, but I know it wouldn't be the same even if I could go back. Many of my coworkers have changed jobs and my traveler friends have moved on to their next adventure. Sydney will always have a special place in my heart, and I may even continue to write a few posts about it. But I'm slowly learning to love the skies that I'm under and embrace the current season of my life, even if that is winter.

Thanksgiving Food for Thought

Last year in Sydney, I hosted my own Thanksgiving dinner for the first time. I was so proud of this American holiday and the traditions that accompany it that I wanted to share it with everyone I knew in my new city. Friends from the UK, Canada, France, Sweden and the US were present. The menu wasn't impressive or traditional. However, we shared our potluck dishes, crowding around my tiny living room, and we all wrote what we were thankful for in chalk on the wall. While I was grateful to be in an amazing city surrounded by good company, my homesick thoughts wandered to a table thousands of miles away, where my grandmother's turkey and dressing and pumpkin pie sat encircled by my family members.

Being in Australia meant I wasn't able to watch my college football team win their big game or see the skyscraper-sized balloons float down 6th Avenue in New York. It also meant that I wasn't bombarded with commercials and email blasts about the upcoming Black Friday sales and doorbuster savings. There are no Walmarts in Australia, and I was a backpacker with few real needs and little means to buy nice gifts for others. Without the incessant notifications and ads to serve as reminders, I sort of forgot about this part of Thanksgiving altogether.

And it undoubtedly has become a part of the holiday. Thanksgiving is no longer a four-day weekend to relax and spend time with family, or even a full day of rest. For many employees of major retailers, Thursday has become a day to prepare for or even begin the mad rush of holiday shopping. With stores opening earlier each year, it seems our beloved Turkey Day has simply turned into a kick-off event for a month-long feast of consumerism. We're now encouraged to shop on Black Friday, Small Business Saturday, and Cyber Monday. (If you haven't experienced the madness of Black Friday shopping for yourself, it only takes about 30 seconds of this YouTube video to get a feel for it.) 

Last year, the United Nations Foundation and the 92nd Street Y in New York teamed up to launch a campaign called #GivingTuesday. The mission is to "create a national day of giving at the start of the annual holiday season." While I think it's a great idea to encourage charitable giving and support nonprofit organizations, it also makes me sad that it's been tacked on to the tail end of a weekend of overindulgence, as if Giving Tuesday is the juice cleanse for our extravagant holiday dinner. 

What if Thanksgiving was about giving just as much as it is about food, parades, football and shopping? What if our "giving of thanks" was not reduced to a single meal or even a day, but was perpetual? I want to learn to wake up every morning with a grateful heart and count my blessings each night as I fall asleep. And maybe if we all strive to be better at this--to be more mindful of the things we do have, we'll worry less about the things we don't, and give a little more.

Moving Pains

After doing the math, I've realized this is the eleventh time I've moved in the last five years. I wish that were a joke. But since I left my small hometown to attend university in the fall of 2008, I've moved twice each year--at the beginning of summer and again in the fall. Let's break this down:

1. Fall '08: Moved to Fort Worth to begin college
2. Summer '09: Moved back to my hometown (Sealy) to work for the summer
3. Fall '09: Back to school in Fort Worth
4. Summer '10: Studied abroad with Semester at Sea in the Mediterranean
5. Fall '10: Fort Worth
6. Summer '11: Germany for a three-month internship
7. Fall '12: Fort Worth
8. Summer '12: Sealy
9. Fall '12: Moved to Australia 
10. Summer '13: Came back home to Sealy
11. Fall '13: Moved to Dallas

Moving is exhausting in every way possible. In addition to the physical defeat that comes with repeatedly packing and unpacking your life into boxes and suitcases, there's also an emotional toll involved. This is especially true when you're uncertain of whether you're making the right move or if you'll see the friends you've said goodbye to again.

This most recent move to Dallas has seemed like the most challenging one yet, which is ridiculous considering it's within my own home state. But my move here was quick and unpremeditated. And I didn't arrive to a backpacker hostel or college dormitory, where it's easy to make new acquaintances who are all in the same boat. Similarly, apartment leases are no longer in sync with school semesters, so for the first time in five years, I'm living without a roommate (or two or seven). 

I was lucky enough throughout college to have most of my furniture and household supplies provided as a part of my living arrangement. The few appliances and items I did own were sold in a garage sale last summer to help me fund my travels, so when I moved into my little 1BR flat, I had to completely start from scratch. One month later, and I'm still sleeping on an air mattress and eating breakfast on an ironing board, while my kitchen supplies are a mix of camping cutlery (spork anyone?) and take out boxes. And to be honest, I'm kind of okay with that right now. 

Anytime I think about buying a piece of furniture or a mattress, I consider the opportunity cost--a plane ticket to visit a friend. Besides, once you have furniture, moving becomes a whole new ball game. So for the time being, I'll continue living à la Holly Golightly, where there's no furniture in sight, but plenty of milk and champagne in the fridge.

My Favorite Island

In between Bali's mainland and neighboring Lombok, there lies an island that often goes unnoticed by the average tourist. Compared to Bali, the island is sparsely populated, difficult to navigate and anything but luxurious. The interior of the island is arid and hilly, making farming more challenging for its inhabitants. And while still considered a part of Bali, the locals speak an older form of Balinese no longer heard on the mainland. There are no resorts, bike taxis, peddlers, infinity pools or nightclubs. In many ways, this island is what Bali was like 40 years ago, before mass tourism settled in and created environmental and cultural conflict. I'd like to introduce you to what has become my favorite Indonesian island:

NUSA PENIDA

I journeyed to Nusa Penida to volunteer with the Friends of the National Parks Foundation at their Conservation and Community Development Centre located near the village Ped. As soon I arrived, I noticed the stark contrasts from Bali's south coast--the water was clearer and trees hugged the coastline, instead of buildings and highways. My days on the island were spent in the organic garden, cleaning up the beach, snorkeling or exploring small villages. My nights were spent hanging out with the locals and other volunteers at the centre, where we'd sit barefoot around a long rectangular table and sing English and Balinese songs until midnight.

{It's not uncommon to have an entire beach to yourself on Nusa Penida}

{the best way to get around the island is by motorbike}

{sunrises worth waking up early for}

I've debated about writing this post for some time now, part of me selfishly wanting to keep Nusa Penida a secret; a place that wouldn't change no matter how many years passed between my visits. But I've realized that's completely unrealistic, and I know that tourism is welcomed on the island, as a couple of my Balinese friends are trying to start a tourism center there. Nusa Penida is certainly not for everyone. If you're looking for sights, museums and shopping, you won't find that here. Nor will you find pampering day spas and luxury hotels with Western amenities. No, Nusa Penida is for the avid adventurer and explorer--one who delights in camping on the beach, exploring unnamed caves, hiking through forests and learning about the local culture. It's where you go to relax and lose your sense of time as you adjust to the slower rhythm of life and discover the way Bali once was. I encourage you to visit, and if you do, please tread lightly. The island has neither the resources nor infrastructure to support the mass tourism that Bali has seen. So as you explore, remember the tagline created by my friends and featured on the island's only t-shirt, "Keep it natural."

A Night Trek on Mount Batur

My alarm went off at 1:45 am. I rolled out of bed and found my way out of the mosquito net in record time, especially for someone who had just gotten five hours of sleep. I got dressed, slipped on my hiking shoes, ate a couple of biscuits and washed them down with an iced Nescafe that I had bought from the Circle K down the street. At 2 am, a driver arrived at the homestay to transport me and two others to the foot of Mount Batur in Kintamani, which is about an hour from Ubud. The German couple I was traveling with fell asleep during the car ride, but I was much too excited to shut an eye. Riding shotgun, I chatted with our driver and gripped the armrest in fear each time a stray dog ran into the road, which was about once every kilometer. 

We arrived around 3 am, met our trekking guide (a sixteen year old high school student) and began to follow her lead up the active volcano, with our flashlights in hand. We climbed at a quick and steady pace. The terrain was still moist from the recent rainfall, and I had to use my hands several times to catch myself when the gravel-like volcanic rock slipped under my feet. But it was a fairly easy hike, only taking us one and a half hours to complete 1700 meters. 

Once we emerged from the layer of fog that surrounded the two calderas, we were welcomed with a blanket of a thousand stars--the brightest I'd ever seen. Our group of four were the first ones to reach the summit, arriving an hour before the sun, so we sat and waited in the cool mountain air. I spent that time enjoying the silent stillness. I said a quick prayer, thanking God for the many opportunities I've experienced over the course of my travels. And sitting there, dangling my feet over what felt like the edge of the world paradise, counting my blessings on shooting stars, I certainly felt like the luckiest girl in the world.

{the first signs of daylight}

{prayer offerings on top of the volcano} 

{it's possible to see the ocean from this view point on a clear day} 

{beginning the steady descent into "the clouds"}

Advice for hiking Mount Batur:

-Book the tour through a reputable company. For safety reasons, visitors are not allowed to complete the sunrise trek without a local guide. There are several tour companies that offer similar packages, but make sure you're getting exactly what is advertised. I say this because I wasn't 100% satisfied with the booking I made. While I can't recommend that company, I've was pleased with another tour I did with this one, and they also offer a Batur trek.

-Bring your own flashlight or headlamp. I borrowed one from my homestay and the light was so dim that it barely covered the area around both my feet. Be safe and bring your own.

-Wear layers. You might work up a sweat trekking uphill, but it's gets cold once you reach the top, and it can feel like a long wait for sunrise if you're wearing shorts.

-Bring a backpack or small bag to secure your loose items and free up your hand for the climbs. I thought the pockets in my jacket would be enough space to hold everything I needed, but I ended up wishing I had worn a rucksack.

-Pack bottled water. This may be provided depending on who you booked the hike through, but it's a good idea to bring some with you just in case. Same goes for snacks.

-Don't leave your good camera at home. The lighting and visibility can vary greatly at the peak, and you'll definitely want more than just your phone to capture the sunrise. 

-Ask your guide to take you to highest vantage point. Most groups will stop at the lower vantage point, but there's another one just 25 minutes up the slope. All you have to do is ask your guide.