Crouching on all fours, with dirt and mud squishing at my knees and elbows, my head bent to avoid hitting the low ceiling, I crawl through tricky section of the Lumshynna cave in Sohra, Meghalaya, in almost pitch black darkness. My breath is heavy. I’m sweating all over. My hands grope wildly in the dark. Nature, I tell myself, had not built me for such feats of athletics.
The general attitude of the author with regards to cave is one of distant admiration. Watching on television, of adventurers exploring caves, risking their lives, he hollers and shouts out his approval. He readily marvels at the beauty of these natural monuments from the comfort of his armchair. But put him into a cave and ask him to crawl on his knees through darkness, and the idea starts to lose its sheen.
Which brings us back to the cave episode. There will arise frequent times when travellers are caught in a dilemma. It is one thing to admire nature from a far with all our creature comforts and it is another thing to actually step out of zone, into the wilderness to experience life first hand. It may not be pleasant, at times, but it is sure worthwhile.
Songs of Wanderlust 