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Mt. Yasur, Tanna Island, Vanuatu

A week after leaving Tanna,  I still cannot fully grasp the insanity of the experience.  I figured during the planning phase, why not add to the crazy and sleep in a treehouse!?  This would guarantee that the meshuganeh nature of visiting an active volcano would be neatly coupled with climbing three stories up a tree just to sleep, even though there are perfectly fine huts on the ground.  After all, Tanna Island was the reason why Vanuatu was on my list in the first place.

Tanna airport.

How to get around Tanna.

Tanna Island is famous for the Mt. Yasur active volcano.  So even though I was totally psyched about staying in a local village, I did come to learn that the village is nowhere near the volcano and does not have any views of the volcano (or anything at all, for that matter).  I ensured that my stay on Tanna Island would not be rushed, so that I would be able to see absolutely everything knowing that I may never return.  I came up with this plan: stay my first night on a hilltop overlooking the volcano, spend two nights sleeping in a treehouse across from the volcano tourist entrance (also overlooking the volcano), and end my time in Tanna staying in a local village where I would also schedule a day tour to see a tribe that has rejected Western customs and lives in the ways of their ancestors.

On Tanna Island, the properties have names but they are referred to by their owner's names.  I would stay at Morris's place on the hilltop, Thomas's treehouse and Iawilum's hut in Loukweria village.  Morris's son picked me up from the airport.  The ride to the hilltop would be $50 USD.  I had researched this beforehand and was warned that the rides around Tanna would be incredibly pricey.  Four-wheel drive vehicles are an absolute requirement.  The road conditions are deplorable; some of the worst in the world.  Quite a few international NGOs have poured millions of dollars into Tanna Island to develop it's road system.  I'm not sure how much better is has made life on Tanna though.  They seem really stuck in their old ways.

On the way to Morris's place, I got a taste of these infamous roads.  We also drive through the cinder plain of the volcano, right up against her.   It was breathtaking.  The field was flat and mountains were everywhere in the distance.  The ground was black.  Rivers had formed from the recent rains, the water appeared black too.  What looked like canyons were actually just formations of volcanic ash from the water flow.  Some vegetation was growing out of some of the ash canyon structures.  The mix of colors of black, grow and light green and yellow was stunning and unlike anything I had seen with my own eyes previously.

We soon arrived at Morris's but the volcano was not visible in the distance due to cloud coverage.  Throughout the night, about every 10 minutes, you would hear a loud thunder.  This was the volcano.  Luckily the next morning I would awake to a full panoramic view of the volcano.  Now the thunderous sound was followed by smoke plumes.  Sometimes you could see the red haze of the lava reflecting in the plumes.  Often, you could see the sound wave make its way through the smoke seconds before the thunderous sound reached your ears.    I was mesmerized by the volcano.  Morris's village was made up of a few huts and dogs and chickens.  They had a two year old who was being trained in machete-wielding.  This is not a joke.

After breakfast, the plan was to head to the treehouse.  Morris was eager to have me leave, even though I had only stayed one night.  I was asked no less than three times before 10am what time I was leaving, and each time I said 10am.  I took a short walk to the local river to start my day.

I had arranged with him for a ride to Thomas's treehouse when I was still in Efate but he insisted it was a short and easy walk.  When it came time to leave, I asked him how to get to Thomas's as there is no clear path out of the village.  It's a bunch of trees.  He looked at the volcano and pointed and said "it's that way."  I still don't know if he was joking or not.  I understood that Thomas's was at the volcano entrance but to just point to the volcano isn't really helpful.  He then asked me if I wanted help finding the path.  I obliged.  He got his 7 year old son to start walking with me through the jungle.   The poor kid really did not want to do it.  He was arguing with his dad in front of me while I was standing there with my backpack and duffel bag.  The kid was lagging behind me.  I had to wait for him at a few jungle intersections for him to tell me which way to turn.  I started wondering where the hell I was and how Morris could have ever expected me to figure this out on my own.  Eventually, the kid gave up and told me that his feet hurt and he doesn't have sneakers and I just need to make a left, then a right and then a left... you get the idea.  I gave him a tip and we parted ways.

Eventually the jungle path gave way to a main road.  This would be the road that leads to the tourist entrance to the volcano tour.   On the way to Thomas's, I could see other properties that also had treehouses.  There were no people anywhere.  It was almost totally desolate.  I did pass some locals and waved hi to them but they just stared at me mostly and did not say hi back.  This was not a friendly place.  When I got to Thomas's treehouse, there was no one at the property.  I had told him I would arrive at 11 and I know I'm in the middle of the island but there is literally no one around.  There was no signage as to where the main kitchen was so I just kinda started walking around the property looking for a place to drop my stuff off.  After 40 minutes of hiking in the jungle, I just wanted to put my bags down.  Eventually, a grandma appeared with a child and I told her I was looking for Thomas.  She pointed into the forest and told me that Thomas was in the village.  Alas, I told myself it was time to go into the village.  Thomas saw me approaching as he was sitting on the floor with 5-6 other men clearly in the middle of a meeting.  I apologized for interrupting and explained that I simply asked where you were.  He seemed ok with it and told me that they would make me lunch and organized an afternoon tour for me.  He said the treehouse was ready for me and I could bring my stuff up.

Of all of the treehouses I walked by on my way here, this was the highest.  The stairs were steep.  Once I got to the top, I realized this was a two story treehouse.  The stairs to the second floor were crooked and horrifying and I did not need to be on the second floor.  First floor was fine.  I did look down a few times.  I think because there were so many branches and the structure felt so sturdy, I did not really have a fear of heights.  However, the treehouse was really fucking high up there and there were many easy opportunities to just fall.  I dropped my bags off and went back down for lunch.

Lunch would be an opportunity for me to take further control of my destiny.  The food was so bad.  Rice with a fried egg and some sliced green vegetable in some gooey green sauce, but all with no flavor at all.  I ate as much as I could.  I would later find out that dinner would be the same meal.  I knew that the next day, I would have to make alternative plans for dinner.  There must be better food at another treehouse.

That afternoon, I did the local tour where a performance was made by a local tribe of how they used to capture people to eat them.  Yes, they were cannibals.  Then the children of the show performed an adorable song about Tanna Island with a donation box right in the middle of the stage.  The song was an adorable welcome tune to the island. I gladly tipped them.  

That evening I prepared for the volcano tour. I had already been glaring at the volcano in the distance for two days and hearing it’s thunder continuously.  I was worried about slipping and falling and if my sneakers would have a good grip.  Tanna Island is a major tourist attraction but up to this point, I did not really feel comfortable from a safety perspective.  The roads were deplorable and the locals were not greeting me with smiles.  Lots of pictures of the volcano tour, below:

This was a better meal.

The volcano tour was thankfully very simple and requires minimal effort. I captured amazing footage of the volcano exploding.  The shockwaves were visible to the human eye.  The roar was horrifying.  The guides were, however, the friendliest people on the island.  At the end of the tour, I met an amazing newlywed couple, Nati and Eric.  We shared a truck up the volcano together and it travel plans seemed to overlap a bit and we just couldn’t stop chatting.  We traded Whatsapp info and I figured I wouldn’t see them again.

With my excellent backpacking skills and my confidence from all of this freedom, the next morning I quickly proceeded to the other treehouse property next door to let them know that I would be joining them for dinner.    The food at my place resembled green, watery slop and was flavorless.  The owner laughed and told me that everyone from my treehouse comes to her property for dinner!  I guess I’m not a genius after all :-)

She told me to stop by her kitchen to say hi to the people having breakfast.  I was staying alone in my treehouse, so I was glad to communicate with other humans.  Lo and behold, Nati and Eric are sitting at the table!  It was a lovely surprise to see them again.  we decided we would hike to the beach together for the day.  Two hours later, we arrived at Port Resolution, a black sand beach.   Port Resolution beach photos, below:

There were a few local families hanging out.  We gave them space.  We put our stuff down by a tree on the other side of the beach.  After we got in the water, a group of 5-6 boys with machetes congregated around our stuff.  We weren’t sure if they were trying to intimidate us to leave, if they were contemplating taking our stuff or if they were just hanging out (and didn’t want to leave their machetes).  Reminder, even 2 year olds have machetes on Tanna Island.  We decided to get back on the road and hike  to a white sand beach.  Google Maps said there was a food shack about 20 minutes away and we figured we had already gone this far.  We walked through a village and were guided towards the beach.  We arrived and were greeted by a guy named David who explained to us that he was building a new tourist resort there made of beach huts.  Volunteers from Germany helped Hindi some catpentry the week before.  We would be the first customers at his newly opened bar.

The beach was absolutely spectacular: 

A Russian tourist arrived later and we were able to hitch a ride with him back to town. The driver got a flat tire but never fear!  The tire was replaced within 10 minutes and we just kept going.

At dinner, Nati, Eric and I were serenaded by our host Kelson’s Christian rock karaoke.  This is all while we were eating.  You cannot make this stuff up. At some point, I wasn't sure what kind of music he was singing but then the bloody Jesus on a cross lyrics came up.  The experience was actually less awkward than you might expect.  Kelson was not making direct eye contact with us while performing as he was looking at the lyrics on his phone.  We politely clapped at the end of each song.  In all honesty, I was disappointed that each of us did not get an opportunity to do karaoke and share our talents.  I do love a good talent show.

I was now done with my volcano time.  I would migrate deeper into the jungle and spend a night in another village, really detached from everything.