Wanderlust

I spluttered as dust flew into my face and mouth. I wasn’t expecting that. Surrendering to the open rooftop, I sat back down inside the minivan and was immediately rewarded with a bruised backside and a bumped head as the van bounced over another pothole. I wasn’t expecting that either.

Hidden deep inside the district of Miri is the giant mouth of the Niah caves, stalactites dripping from the roof like teeth. The musty, rank smell of bat feces and mold rose to my nose as I choked on my air. Squinting into the darkness as I waited for my eyes to adjust, I spied a path along the rut-filled floor to an impossibly rickety staircase winding up through the darkness. Making my way, I could not help but to do the occasional space jump – to me, the floor was the surface of the moon.

Up, up, up the stairs I went, humidity from the rainforest outside creeping in and drenching me with sweat. Luckily, I was one of the only ones in the Great Cave today. In front of me was the quiet darkness of the cave, with the occasional flutter of wings and drip of water; behind was the vivacious and dynamic racket of the rainforest. The two polar opposites crashed around my ears as my heartbeat and lungs attempted to catch up with my body.

Sparse skylights allowed the forest to invade the still sanctuary. The rhythmic plop of water echoed through the cavern, glimmering in the morning sun before cascading down onto the lime. The boardwalk creaked with the weight of the thousands of travellers before me, eventually engulfing itself in the comfort of darkness. Under this blanket, tourists move past me, following in the footsteps of the civilizations whose bones remain some 40, 000 years later.

A breath of fresh air let me knew that I was nearing the exit. Sure enough, I was soon surrounded by shades of green and now-familiar bird song. All roads lead somewhere and knowing I wasn’t going to end up in Rome drove me to push through the cloud of humidity and bugs that had grown around me. The uneven and worn planks were broken and, in places, leaving gaping holes that begged for ankles; it took all my concentration to keep from falling. Unfortunately, this meant that I missed out on the sights around me but further built up the mystery of my destination.

Continuing further, I raised my head to a staircase, then two more. Rows of caterpillars lined the handrails, like beads on a necklace, all of us determinedly inching upwards in a common direction. I lifted my gaze in fear of more stairs when I saw it – a rusty iron fence, shielding the cave wall that had appeared out of nowhere. It was the only protection for the once glorious 1, 200 year old tarnished red, splashed across the wall and curling to form people, patterns and animals.

I wasn’t expecting that.