After a 1km walk I came to a cliff. Another tourist was there sitting on his rented scooter absorbed with flipping, scrolling and zooming on his smartphone. Had he offered me ride when he passed me 20 mins back, I'd have been obliged to get him down the 800 meters of cliff that kept us from the cave below. Even a hey do you know how to get to... Would have unlocked the adventure he was expecting navigate on the back of a scooter guided by his smartphone.
Without the internet, I would not have been here either. Guess I just understood that when the google reviews said you've got to climb down a scary cliff don't do it, I smiled and found my way to the edge of this adventure.
This was no free climb down. There were ladders ropes, and a clear trail. With that said they are all nearly straight down. Yes, there is a part where you walk along a carved out cliff with no guardrail, but if you know how to walk its achievable.
Down was longer than I expected, but fun.
The mouth of the cave is above the ocean a bit; just where the picture was taken. Entering means taking a staircase down to about sea level. There to the left is an alter on the wall. For most that is where they will stop. However further back lies another staircase caved into the back of the cave.
The limestone tells me the few that make it down to the cave don't come back here.
Up the stairs slowly led back up to the same level as the entrance. There you can duck down and go back deeper into the cave.
It's always here that your head will finally start to see the ghosts. Humidity, its thick. Like a light fog. Your light catches it. Your presence disturbs it. And then it starts to move in strange way around you. Almost as if the cave is coming out to see who you are. That slow walk a dog that's never met you does.
Back further is a second cavern. Small, cramped, with signs of those who meditated here before. Thick dense wet air. Not matter how many times I do this, alone, its always terrifying.
Coming back out, I take the picture you see at the top of this post. Then I stand and admire the caves structures. I've never seen a naturally occurring black stalactite; they're always crystal white. For a moment I think its just another formation that too many people have touched, or burned something close to. However there was something different about this one. It was crystal black. Those tiny drop of water carried Merapi's ash along with the other minerals into the cave.
I am half way up the cliff, my legs are burning. Then I am back up at the top. A ways down the road I stop a hotel to rest. There the scooter tourist sits. "Did you make it down to the cave," I ask. We never passed, so you can guess what his answer was.
