Page 16 of Wild Temple
I raced past cafés and a surf shop. Past the last gas station before heading into the jungle.
The GPS wouldn't last long.
Coverage was spotty out here. I had a paper map and marked out my route. Out in the jungle, there was no cell service. No maps app. Nothing to help you if you got lost or needed assistance.
The engine purred along, and the scooter did its best to cut through the thick, humid air.
The asphalt twisted around the coastline for a while. I followed other cars and mopeds out of town. With the throttle pegged going uphill, I did better than the 150cc bikes and even passed a few here and there.
Under breaking, I still felt twinges of pain in my shoulder, but I’d manage.
The guy at the rental shop told me it would take a little more than an hour to get to the Twin Sisters. He cautioned me not to get lost. Not all the roadways were adequately marked.
About 30 minutes into the journey, I turned off the main highway and took another blacktop deep into the jungle. The asphalt snake slithered back and forth through, winding its way uphill. It was a fun road, with lots of hairpin turns that would have been pulse-pounding on a proper sport bike. Also, a lot more dangerous.
Still, I gave it the juice and had a good time, living out my MotoGP fantasy, if only for a few turns.
From there, I took a red clay road deeper into the jungle. The road twisted and turned and undulated through peaks and valleys. The jungle threatened to take back the road entirely in parts. The canopy of leaves was dense here, and the dappled rays of sunshine filtered through. This route would have been impassable in the rainy season. Thick mud that would swallow a tire whole.
Wind swirled around my helmet, and the air seemed even thicker here. The smell of clay and jungle permeated my nose. Birds fluttered in the trees, and a monkey darted in front of me at one point. I swear to God, he flipped me off. The little bastard was fearless.
I finally came upon a dilapidated sign for the Twin Sisters.
I veered off the dirt road and onto another that was even narrower. It was barely wide enough for a car to pass through. Again, not a place you would want to travel in the rainy season without a four-wheel-drive and luck on your side.
The guy at the moped shop wasn’t lying. It took a little over an hour to make it to the Twin Sisters. There was a small parking area with two mopeds and a van in the lot. I found aspot for the bike, pulled off my helmet, and attached it to the scooter.
Another sign guided the way to the falls.
I walked the narrow path deeper into the jungle. To the side of the path was a small hut with a thatched roof and a donation jar on the counter.
I didn't see any employees around.
Everybody was pretty much on the honor system around here. I figured at the end of the day, someone would come and collect the money. Who knows where it went, but I put in a nice tip. A golden statue watched over it with a slight smirk, probably to deter cheapskates. The faint traces of incense wafted through the air.
I followed the trail and came to a clearing. A towering golden statue presided over the majestic landscape. Its sleepy eyes seemed to know all. A cracked concrete fountain burbled. Stone monkeys clutched iron pipes that poured steady streams into a tiered pool. Water spilled from one basin to the next, filling the jungle with the soothing rush of falling water.
Concrete steps plunged down the cliffside, leading to the base of the waterfall. This descent was not for the faint of heart. The steps were tall and slick as the mist from the waterfall permeated the air.
I began my descent, holding onto the handrail. The steps were cracked and crumbling in places. They weren’t the most confidence-inspiring.Premises liabilitywas unheard of in a place like this. Good luck tracking down the owners, and better luck suing them.
As I rounded the corner and moved past some dense foliage, the Twin Sisters came into view.
Rushing water poured from the cliffside in two identical streams that formed a majestic cascade of water, glimmering in the light. The rumble filled the chasm, emptying into a basin below that was bluer than the sky. Clear and almost glowing.
The two streams fell in parallel. Forever separate but in sync. Eons of water had smoothed the rocks below. Mist hung in the air, catching shafts of light. Ethereal. Magical. Otherworldly. Fleeting prisms formed, ever-changing with the wind.
By the time I reached the collection pool, my shirt was damp, and my skin slick with water. There was no way to get close to the Twin Sisters without getting damp.
It was breathtaking and awe-inspiring. The power of nature. The beauty of an unadulterated landscape.
And I had it all to myself.
I scanned the area, but there was no one else around, despite the vehicles in the parking lot. There were no influencers standing on boulders, taking selfies in front of the mystic waterfalls. No E-girls posing topless in the basin—although I don't think I would have complained.
I walked down the trail and stood close to the edge of the water. I pulled off my shoes, stepped in, and walked to a large clump of boulders. I climbed up and stood in front of the waterfall, like hundreds of thousands of other tourists had done. I couldn't help myself. I may have pulled out my phone and taken a selfie just for good measure. It was kindof irresistible, I had to admit. I framed up and snapped a few photos of the waterfalls—something to remember my journey by.
For all my complaints about tourists, it was hard not to want to capture the beauty of the moment.
