Amazing Caves at Niah

Brunei wasn't big enough for me and the sultan, so one of us had to go, and it obviously wasn't going to be the sultan. My day and a half spent in the country were plenty to see the stately mosques and unique city, and after the noodle eating competition, I felt I had made my mark, and it was time to move on. Just before the bus left, in an effort to spend the last of my Brunei dollars, I found a tiny market and bought a whole dragonfruit, one of my favorite tropical fruits from the area. It's kind of like a mix of a pineapple shape with artichoke type leaves that you peel off to reveal either a magenta or white fleshy ball inside with tons of tiny black, edible seeds throughout. The fruit is sweet and a little bit sticky, and it made a perfect breakfast for the bus ride, unlike the roti canai with a plastic bag full of curry that an American girl was trying to eat without spilling all over herself.

I was soon in the town of Miri, a pleasant enough place near the coast where I decided I'd spend the night, though the city itself didn't have any huge attractions given my limited schedule. Walking around, I did find a small shopping mall where I stumbled upon a so-called talent competition. The participants were mostly 30 to 60 year old Chinese women, singing bad Chinese folk and pop songs, some even dressed up in traditional costumes or pseudo-cowgirl outfits. I could only stand a few minutes of the wailing, so I moved on, looking for some food. Again, with Ramadan, many of the local places were closed, but I found a small food court with a cheap Indian food stand, so I got a tray full of rice, bread and curry (and my beloved roti canai), and I actually ran into the three American girls that I had seen in Brunei and on the bus, who turned out to be English teaches in different parts of Malaysia.

My hostel for the night was good enough, but it was one of the biggest rooms that I've stayed in, containing something like 20-30 beds (10-15 bunk beds) in the huge room. This also meant someone (or multiple people) would be snoring, so I put in my earplugs and fell asleep. The next day, I caught the bus a few hours down the coast to Batu Niah, the entranceway to Niah Caves National Park. The bus didn't actually go to the park, so I had to get off at the junction and catch a taxi/local car to the park from there, bargaining down to a pretty cheap price. I was a little hesitant to get off the bus, though, as it was really comfortable, and I had the perfect spot, with lots of legroom in the front row, and the seats were split with just one large seat on one side and two on the other, so I had the one to myself, perfectly comfortable, plenty of room and a nice view of the road ahead. That would have been nice for the long bus ride ahead of me later that day, but I really wanted to see the park, so I made the stop.

The weather didn't look great that day, and, as before, it can basically rain at any time in Borneo, so I headed to the entrance, hoping I'd get lucky. I first had to take a tiny boat across a muddy river to get to the walkway, and then the track proceeded for a few miles on a boardwalk or a well-kept trail through the rainforest, luckily providing a few shelters for the passing rain that came and went. Huge palms, strangler figs, ferns and other plants lined the track through the greenery, gradually revealing a few hints of caves and creeks below. Then we began climbing up a series of inclines and steps, cresting the stairs to see the track was now protected by a limestone overhang with some stalactites poking down on the other side of the track. Soon I entered the first large cave, not very deep, but with a huge mouth opening into the forest with more stalactites slightly obscuring the view of the tree canopy below us. This, however, was not the cave that people come to see. Just a few minutes later, through a covered walkway and up a few more stairs, I saw the gigantic entrance to the Great Cave, the centerpiece of the park. Situated about halfway up the huge 394 meter (1,300 foot) limestone hill, the cave is one of the largest in the world, though I don't know how that's measured. Judging by this one, it may be volume. The mouth of the cave is almost too big to comprehend until you are standing there at the foot of it, looking around at the distant walls. The opening spans 250 meters (800 feet) wide by 60 meters (200 feet) tall. The tiny workers' hut at the entrance was the size of a house, yet it looked like a toy when compared to the scale of the gaping hole where the cave opens up to the outside world.

The area also has historical and cultural significance. Back in 1958, archaeologists found evidence of human occupation from over 40,000 years ago with rock paintings, tools, and a few random pieces. More recently, the local Penan people knew of this cave and a few nearby ones in the huge limestone cave system and used it to harvest the nests of the swiftlets (local birds), climbing up precarious bamboo ladders to reach the nests that are then used for the Chinese delicacy, bird's nest soup. The nests aren't quite as popular as they once were, as they were in danger of killing off the birds by over-harvesting, but it sounds like the birds are making a comeback. In addition to the birds, the caves are homes to huge numbers of bats, and it is estimated that at dusk, when the mass migration of birds coming back for the night and bats leaving for their hunt, covering the sky in waves of black, there may have once been 500,000 bats and 4 million swiftlets at one time. Unfortunately, I didn't have time to hang around for the show right after sunset, so I'd just have to trust my guidebook on that one.

Inside the cave, the path lead me around a massive central pillar, dividing the cave into two parts that would come back together on the other side. I proceeded down a set of slippery stairs, thanks to a mix of water and bat guano dripping from the ceiling high above. Soon, it was almost completely pitch black, and I was relying on my small flashlight that I picked up in Indonesia to guide the way. A long way off in the distance, I could see one of the small openings at the other side of the cave with just a bit of light shining through. Then, in front of me, there was an incredible sight with rays of intermittent sunlight streaming through a few small openings in the ceiling, illuminating a solid beam all the way to the rocks below. The stream of light seemed almost surreal, like a beacon pointing down towards a magical spot in the cave below. I obviously took my time getting some pictures and just marveling at the scene that was gone when I returned, as the angle of the sun had changed, and there were now clouds blocking its path. Moving on, the massive rooms of the cave began to narrow, taking us through a short, wide gap where I could tell that the top of the cave was only 10 or 20 feet above me. This was the darkest part of the cave, and I turned off my light a few times to see that there really was no sign of light coming from either direction, though I decided not to try to hide and scare the next walkers, but the thought did cross my mind.

Leaving the Great Cave out a smaller back entrance, more trails crossed through the forest to the Painted Cave, another cave with two huge openings, though not nearly as deep or cavernous as the first one. The Painted Cave is known for the rock paintings on the walls from thousands of years ago, along with a few excavated graves, though the sights honestly weren't that impressive, since it was hard to really see any of the faded paintings. Both caves did offer a nice bit of relief from the heat of the jungle outside, as well as the downpours that came and went during the day, so I could see why they were a popular spot for the local people living in the area.

On the way out, I made it back to the ranger's hut, but I had to wait around to try to find a taxi or a ride back to the junction to catch my next bus. Things were pretty quiet, though I eventually found a group that I had spoken with very briefly at the exit to the Great Cave. I asked if they'd be able to take me back to the main road, and the nice family agreed, so I piled into their SUV and started down the road. It turns out that they had come from Miri also, a group consisting of the father, son, daughter and daughter's friends from their church. We did a quick tour of the local down, basically just driving through the main road and heading back. Then, when we got to the junction a few minutes later, things looked a little different to me, but William told me that this was the intersection of the main road heading back to Miri or down to Kuching, my next stop, so I figured that I was just confusing a few of the hundreds of random street corners that I'd become acquainted with during the trip, hoping that he was right. We sat around the area for a little while, and the hospitable family and friends even treated me to a bowl of noodles and a drink while I waited for the buses to start appearing. Soon, they headed back, and I began wondering when the next bus might make its way to the junction. I was still a little skeptical about the whole location, though, so I asked a few of the restaurant workers and finally found out the truth. This was indeed ONE of the junctions on the Miri-Kuching road, though the major route (where the buses run) was the road about 10 kilometers inland from here. So I was really lucky to find such a kind family to have given me the ride and the meal, but it turns out that we weren't exactly headed to the same spot after all.

I crossed back over the street with my big bags, trying to find a ride back in the other direction, since it would be way too far to walk. Soon another local family stopped and asked where I was going, and I explained that I needed to catch the bus to Kuching, so they knew exactly where to take me. I wasn't exactly sure if they were also just being nice or were serving more as a taxi, so there were a few awkward moments when I got out of the car, with the driver and I staring at each other for a little while and smiling before I got out of the car. Things looked much more familiar here, and I recognized the small food court and bus stop, so I felt better about my chances for the connection that evening. Just as I was browsing the food stalls for my dinner, I saw a familiar face - the kid in the car with me a minute ago, mustering up the courage to ask for a bit of money for the ride. I gave him the same price I had paid to get there in the morning, though I felt bad for him having to ask, as I probably should have just offered to pay in the first place. I then sat down for some roti canai, and I even found a place that had rojak, the Malaysian version of the Indonesian rujak that was the amazing combination of peanut sauce, chili and fresh fruit. This version was far inferior, and I was a little disappointed, as some of the things in there seemed more like tofu, so I decided that I didn't want to further tarnish my image of rujak/rojak, so I'd not try ordering it again in Malaysia.

Finally, a few buses pulled into the stop for a bathroom break, and I spoke with the drivers and found an available seat, getting ready for the 16 hour overnight ride ahead of me all the way down to Kuching. As usual, the bus had its good and bad points: the seats were comfortable yet hard to sleep in, the air conditioning was nice but way too cold and we'd make stops in the middle of nowhere for coffee or bathroom breaks in the middle of the night, killing any chance at a good sleep. Even so, I was in Kuching the next morning, ready to spend my last few days in Borneo in and around the capital and biggest city of Sarawak state.

(Walking through the jungle at the Niah National Park, I started making my way under some limestone overhangs and soon saw the massive caves that make the park so special.)

(This first massive opening wasn't quite a cave yet, but it the hundred foot ceilings and huge opening provided a nice shelter from the intermittent rain.)

(Looking out from the first pseudo-cave, you could probably imagine some pretty interesting figures if your brain's imaginative powers weren't beaten down and crushed by years of mathematics and logic.)

(Inside the Great Cave, a few strong beams of light made their way through small holes in the ceiling, creating magical effects.)

(The surreal rays poured down all the way to the cave floor which was actually a few hundred feet below.)

(It looked like a beam of light shining on the lucky pot of gold, but I didn't investigate, as it was probably just a massive pile of bat guano.)

(Deep in the Great Cave, the passage narrowed, and it was pitch black when I turned off my flashlight - and wasn't taking a picture with the strong flash.)

(The walk between the Great Cave and the Painted Cave was on an elevated wooden boardwalk, keeping us above the thick undergrowth below.)

(This is the back entrance to the Painted Cave. If you notice the little people at the bottom, you'll get an idea for the size of the cave, and this was the smaller one. The opening to the Great Cave is 600 meters by 250 meters, and it's one of the largest caves in the world.)

(Coming back through the Great Cave on the way out, the rays weren't shining down to the floor, but I caught a few stragglers trying to make their way through the holes in the ceiling.)

(More of the walk back. I again waited at the mouth of the Great Cave while a large storm came through and then stopped almost as quickly.)

(The roots of the strangler figs are so big that you could hide in the nooks created by them. And then maybe it strangles you. I don't know.)

(Once you got to the river, you had to flag down the little kid to come get you with the tiny boat to cross.)

(Here's the super nice family and friends that gave me a ride from the park to the main road and treated me to some more mee goreng...though it turned out to be the wrong road...but we didn't know that, so it was still really nice of them.)