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One look at the map, and you immediately realize that this country is hollow. Not just a cave here and there, but more like a thin crust of land over a great void. There are so many caves that the listings for the Thai word for cave ("Tham") in the index of the Lonely Planet guidebook take up a full page. Although I wasn't bringing any cave gear, I hoped to hire a guide for some of the caves, or at least check out some entrances. Casual tourism provides incredible views of some dramatic karst scenery. Actually getting into the caves comes with a whole host of logistical difficulties, however. After two weeks of almost getting a chance to enter more than a dozen caves, it was clear that to really satisfy the itch it is necessary to make a dedicated cave trip to the area (insert plug for Dave Hall's trip here). Nevertheless, with two days left in the trip, I decided it was time to act. I woke up in the small un-touristed provincial Capitol of Trang, a man with a mission. Armed with a phrasebook and a photocopied map bearing the words "Tham Khao Chiang Hai" I marched toward the train station, to the area where the "taxis" hang out. The taxis are actually tiny 2-stroke Daihatsu micro-pickup trucks, the kind you see around college campuses with the words "NOT FOR ON ROAD USE" emblazoned on the side. In the bed of the "truck" are two short benches, and a canopy over top. Top speed about 35 mph, and loud as hell. I set about hiring one of these guys with his cab for the day to take us to the cave. Since this town hasn't yet seen the hordes of white people with backpacks, everyone was quite friendly and willing to help, and we quickly came to an arrangement for about $13. I finally felt like I was on a cave trip when we had to stop for directions a second time. Down a dirt road, past a temple, then passed a seemingly abandoned reclining Buddha nestled under an overhang we came to a stop in a clearing. Typical cave environs; small stream by an exposed limestone hill. First we noticed the stairs, then the cement mixer. The LP had described the cave as containing "large caverns with impressive interior formations." We climbed the stairs, rounded the corner, and found a concrete path leading into nice walking passage with clean white walls. Behind a substantial gate. Our driver became very concerned, and flagged down a passing motorcyclist who claimed he would return with the key. As we waited, a dozen 10 to 12 year old boys rode up on bicycles and started playing around us. After taking turns spinning around in the cement mixer, a couple of the braver ones approached, and we had a very slow conversation with the aid of the phrasebook, as they seemed to know no English. After a while our driver seemed to think the key would never come. Not ready to give up on my last chance to get substantially into a cave in such a karst-laden country, I asked if there was a different cave he could take us to. Once he finally understood the question (my accent still wasn't too good) he nodded vigorously, and we climbed back in. We drove down the road surrounded by the throng of kids, all chattering constantly. Our car and twelve little bikes stopped in front of an obvious hole in the side of the hill, and a mob of young tour guides took us by the arms and helped us into the cave, and up a short climb just inside. I had the only flashlight, but just around the corner was a huge room, reasonably well lit by another entrance facing the forest. One of the kids grabbed my arm and pointed up, and started saying "cat! cat!" Soon they were all pointing to the cats hanging on the ceiling, and readily accepted my correction and began saying "bats! bats!" I started further into the cave, in walking passage but with not quite an even floor, and the kids became concerned. Clearly they had been warned not to go too far, but when my light revealed some of the pretties, a couple of the more adventurous kids decided to go just a few feet farther. They posed for pictures and it was time to return. To my surprise, the kids continued along with our car, and we came to another stop a few hundred feet down the road, in front of a monastery. We got out, and the kids again began leading us around excitedly, climbing up a hill. They pointed out "dog" and "monkey" as we saw them. Apparently they had learned English animal names in school, but all other communication was either in Thai or by waving hands. They lead us along a trail around the hill, being careful to point out tricky steps and holding branches out of our way. They kept saying "Tham Khao! Tham Khao!" and seemed very excited to show us their local playground. Tham we knew meant cave, and Khao means many things. Pluu Khao is mountain, so we decided they were taking us to "Mountain Cave" or something like that. We walked a fair distance, and to encourage us they continued chanting "tham khao" excitedly. Finally we came to a break in the rocks, opening up into a single room about 15 feet across, with another entrance on the other side. Not much of a cave for all the walking. Then I saw what the kids were excited about -- a large pile of bones on the floor of the cave. Cow bones. "OOhhhhhhhhhh! Tham COW!" Using the selective Thai available to me, I thanked them, and told them we were satisfied and happy. They beamed with pride and lead us back to out car, and we said our goodbyes. |