Sunday, April 23, 2006


And at last, after nearly 30 minutes straight uphill in sandles, following our gruelling sweat-soaked morning hike, our "short stop" on the way back home delivered us here. We'd even stopped to ask a bunch of teenagers hanging out on the path if we'd lost the way, and they pointed us around the corner saying "just over there".

They were giggleing behind us as we trudged on. When we finally got to the three little holes in the mountainside, and that's all they were, I remembered the ticket seller in his booth by the smelly neglected pool at the bottom of the hill. It sure had seemed like a nickel wasn't much to support the upkeep of a local tourist sight.

And there is no support. Absolutely no information up here. No way to know the Japanese blasted these caves, or when. And the truth is, no one cares... here on this mountain of love... among the giggling teenagers as a middle-aged bule jumped the queue trailing two beautiful young Asian women... after taking flash photos in all 3 fully-occupied caves we were back out of there and heading down the hill in a hurry! I even tried to discourage one European family from continuing on their trek to where we had just been led. No success, I fear.


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