Off across the way you could see the volcano poking its cone-shaped top out of the water. We climbed onto a catamaran motorboat and set off across the lake, water spraying all over us. It took about a half hour to cross the lake, and we docked on the shore at the base of the volcano, completely surrounded by the lake.

The trail up to the volcano front was about seven kilometers (2.75 miles), too far to climb. But, they were well prepared for us and had a caravan of horses waiting. We each climbed onto one of these critters (rather small they were). A handler led each horse. He, or she in some cases, walked along the side as the horse carried us up the hillside, around the bends, through the gorges, along the ledges. In half-hour or so we reached the top. We somewhat joggled and tossed, the handlers out of breath, the horses glad to have us off their backs.

The volcano, as do most volcanoes, had a lake in the crater. In Taal there was a small island in that lake. So, there you have it . . . an island in a lake on an island in a lake on an island in lake (well, an ocean). Clever! Down in the bottom of the cater along the lake shore you could see steam geysers puffing and boiling, preparing to explode without warning.