Raiders of the Lost Monks

Did a bit of cave exploration yesterday near Phetchaburi, a small city located several hours drive southwest of Bangkok. This was perhaps one of the most harrowing, yet exciting adventure of the Thailand experience due to the ruggedness of the terrain, the tight, dusty confines of the cave, complete lack of lighting and safety standards, and the sheer beauty of the limestone walls. And the monkeys; so many monkeys. Dozens of all sizes were running around the parking area when we arrived. Some were sitting on parked cars; others were just ambling about looking for handouts or tourists to pester. One of the first things I noticed was a foreboding sign that warned against teasing the monkeys. Nothing to worry about, as I was not about to tease any monkeys and besides, how do you tease a monkey anyway? And what would happen if you tease them? So with my backpack and all personal belongings close at hand to prevent monkey theft, we headed up the stone steps.

The first cavern we entered was set up as a Buddhist temple of sorts, complete with a host of Buddha images including a long Reclining Buddha running almost the length of the main chamber. Everywhere there were candles and flowers left by the devout, and the scent of incense permeated the entire cave. As it common with all temples in Thailand (as well as Royal sites and every home you visit), we removed our shoes before entering this cave and placed them next to the stairs outside the entrance where there was an attendant on duty, presumably to shoo away any primates curious about footwear. Few things would make the daytrip more difficult than a monkey running off with one or both of your shoes. As it turned out, I should have worn socks. The floors of the cave temple were made of granite and it was so very cold on bare feet.

As remarkable as the cave temple was, it paled in comparison to the next cave we visited much further up the mountain. For this one a local boy volunteered himself to be our guide for whatever price we thought was appropriate. So up the trail we went following the quick footsteps of this kid in flip-flops holding a powerful, yet antiquated flashlight. Ultimately we came to a bend and off to the left behind a large tree with its roots gnarled around rocks was the entrance to the cave, tucked away next to the rock wall. I suppose it could be called an entrance: a narrow opening (basically a hole in the ground) with an even narrower ladder (or was it a ‘stairway?”) descending into the shadowy depths. We could not see the bottom here and I began to question the wisdom of following some random kid down stairs so narrow you could only descend sideways while holding on to a wobbly railing that was probably useless were you to lose your balance. At the bottom he provided us with little entirely useless candles which soon blew out as we descended deeper into the cave. I hoped that he had fresh batteries in his flashlight.

Deeper into the dark we went, passing areas so low that you had to remove your backpack and crawl through on all-fours. The beam from the kid’s flashlight waved everywhere as he pointed out sketchy places on the trail and interesting features nearby. Fortunately my friend was able to translate much of what was said and I was happy that the kid’s discourse in geology, though basic, was largely on the mark. At some points the trail was but a little ledge between the limestone wall and unseen depths below. I suppose they weren’t all that deep or some semblance of safety precautions would have been in place. Or so I hoped. I entertained everyone by occasionally stumbling in the dark (intentionally, of course). Ultimately we descended a flight of narrow, crumbling stairs and squeezed through a gap into a large antechamber lit only by a broad beam of sunlight coming through a crack in the high ceiling. In the muted light we could see a flat, crude stone platform off to the right on top of which sat life-sized statues of two monks. Rumor has it that these two monks used to descend into the cave to meditate many years ago and the place was set up as a shrine for their piety, inaccessible as it was. The dim antechamber, the narrow beam of sunlight illuminating a narrow swath of limestone wall and floor, small piles of rubble presumably from past landslides, the dusty statues: the scene was straight out of an Indiana Jones movie.

So after taking our time exploring the depths of the cave and examining the beautiful limestone formations we followed the kid back to the surface more or less along the same path as our descent. Upon our return to the parking lot we noticed our dusty truck absolutely covered in monkey tracks. The hood, the roof, the bed. Everywhere. I can’t imagine what they would have done if I had disregarded the posted warnings about teasing.