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Monday 17 August 2009

Philippines 1995: Part 17

Note: this trip was made at Christmas 1995. In the time since then I'm sure much has changed so it may not be a great idea to treat this as a guide. Treat it as a memoir, which - give or take some editing - is exactly what it is.

Quite a few of the group looked very ill after the night's drinking but I felt fine, diving into a plate of eggs as if I hadn't eaten for a week. Today, other than a short bangka ride across the bay, we had no travelling to do. Our itinerary was to visit the underground river then walk back round the coast. The sun was shining and Sabang, whatever its faults, was a marvellously scenic place with a mountain range rising dramatically on all sides of the wide bay and the beach a curving white ribbon between the water and the trees and rocks.
We took three very small bangkas out across the bay. The ride lasted only about thirty five minutes before we rounded a stark headland, that looked like a huge child's building block dropped carelessly at the water's edge, and glided in onto a gorgeous beach.


The sea had eroded under the edge of the headland forming caves and pools and making the whole thing look as if it might topple at any minute into the foaming waves. Twenty yards inland from the waterline the jungle began, dense and luxurious. Curious and unafraid monkeys watched us from the trees. A large lizard padded through the undergrowth, ignoring us completely.
This was the St. Paul's National Park, a beautifully preserved area at the foot of Mt. St. Paul and the home of the primary reason for visiting the area - the Underground River. We approached the entrance to the river along a path through the trees. Several more of the lizards, dark grey and black and up to four or five feet longed incuriously watched our progress. At the river we were instructed to put on life jackets and hard hats before getting into canoes. I sat at the front in charge of the torch which would light our way. Outside in the sunlight it seemed a pale and insipid beam, incapable of illuminating anything but once we had drifted in through the cave mouth it hard a startlingly powerful beam that easily cut the darkness to pick out details on the roof and walls. At first the limestone formations were large but ordinary but further in they became more unusual forming a weird grotesquerie of half familiar shapes.

A dragon's head forty feet long loomed out of the cave wall.
A giant yellow mushroom flowed up out of the water's edge.
A nativity decorated a dark corner on the far side of the cavern.
A mysterious man stood on the top of a slope.
The lights picked out all of these strange apparitions as we were steered past them by the oarsman at the back of the canoe. I flicked the torch towards the roof. There were bats there. Thousands upon thousands of bats. One or two of them squealed and flapped around the cave bouncing their echoes off the natural sculptures but mostly they just hung from the roof, tiny brown bundles like fruit rotting on a dead branch. I wanted to shout, to scare them all into flight, to see the cave filled with their furious motion. Of course I didn't.
We came at last to a large circular cavern which was as far into the system as we could get. The oarsman took the boat around the perimeter and we started back the way we had come. Every twisted formation had a new aspect from this direction as if instead of repeating familiar water we were paddling through a completely new cave.
We drifted back out into daylight and the torch once more died to a mere spark against the brighter beams of the sun. When we had disembarked we went back to the beach where we sat around in the sun. I lay back on the hot sand and closed my eyes for a moment.

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