Neptune's Grotto
Trip Start
May 31, 2006
1
169
170
Trip End
Ongoing
Alghero,
Italy
Saturday, December 1, 2007
We were standing in the highest point of Capo Caccia, a range of impressive limestone cliffs wedging out to sea as a small peninsula in the Northwestern part of the island. From up here we could see an irregular and mercurial coastline, stepping out towards the ocean then changing its mind and retracting, creating bays and small coves of turquoise water. The not too far away old town of Alghero can be seen in the distance, its low sandy architecture as repetitive as the tiny blotches on an Impressionist's canvas. And all around, the fathomless color of the sea, which in all fairness deserves a name of its own: Mediterranean Blue.
Our friendly Sardinian ticket-salesman had been convincing: the underground caves of Neptune´s Grotto would have to wait half an hour more. Other people were sitting around admiring the landscape, waiting for the tour to begin, but I grabbed my boyfriend´s hand and escaped off down the road behind the peaks that would show us the other side of the cliffs. We followed the map to Cala del Diavolo or Devil´s Cove, a fitting name judging by the sharp fall to the angry waves below. The seascape here was interrupted by a mountainous island right in the center of the cove, like the gargantuan fist of the diavolo himself rising from the depths of the ocean. At least that´s what my disobedient imagination told me as I sat on a white limestone rock and did precisely what the happy Sardinian had ordered. Half an hour later we were back were we started, this time more airy and light-hearted, equipped with our 10€ tickets ready to walk through the gate that would lead us down the 654 stone steps to Neptune´s Grotto.
The Escala del Cabirol, strangely meaning `Goat´s Stairway´ in Catalan was carved out from the side of the mountain and descended seawards brightly lighted by the noon sun. The 654 steps would otherwise be daunting had it not been for the magnificent views of nothing but sky and sea all around. The stairway was built in the 1950´s and was apparently named after the only animal that could easily make the perilous path downwards before its construction. But as we continued to climb down another animal seemed familiar with this trail: high-soaring seagulls that dipped nonchalantly between the rocks as if they too were vacationing.
The entrance to Neptune´s Caves was a small passageway, like a rocky wormhole, forcing us to duck through the low stone formations which, with the little daylight creeping in, shone with purple reddish ribs and quartz-like surfaces. We waited in the rocky vestibule which fittingly had a large opening to the sea, and believe me, the 10 or something people that were there stood hypnotized by the waves that receded and swelled up like a large belly, ultimately crashing and spraying white foam like fireworks.
Our tour guide appeared from another passageway and guided us away from the light, into the dark and silence of the depths of the earth. We walked single-filed through the narrow steps and platforms as the sunlight gradually disappeared, and we were left with the orange glow of the artificial lighting inside the caves. The loud splashing and crashing of the waves quickly turned into a faint hiss as we were led deeper into the underground grotto.
Suddenly, an opening, and the gigantic cavity of the Grand Chamber revealed itself, instantly turning quiet chatter into gasps and awe-struck silence. `It´s precious isn´t it?´ our guide seemed to savor our admiration, as if remembering the first time she stepped into the chamber herself. Enormous columns of rock protruded from the roof of the cave, merging into the walls, contorting into wondrous organic formations, and finally plunging into a placid lake of salt water below. As our guide explained in perfect English, the caves were discovered circa 1700 by two fishermen who wandered inside by accident. The superstitions and little geological knowledge of the time led the marine caves to be named Neptune´s Grotto by the local people, who deeply believed that Neptune himself dwelled in these remarkable caves with his nymphs and mermaids. My educated self would have believed it too, as the cavern seemed perfectly fit for the pagan god of the waters. But more recently this place was the refuge of a large community of Mediterranean Monk Seals, an adorable species whose lack of fear of man and curious nature sadly contributed to their total extinction despite preservation attempts.
The cave is calculated to be thousands of years old, giving an incredible glimpse of the geological history of the area. The multi-year-old process consists of drops of natural rain water seeping in from the ground above, dragging with it the calcium carbonate found in the earth. The calcium-laden droplets then drip from the ceiling of the cave downwards onto its floor, and once the water evaporates, the calcium is left behind forming deposits of limestone icicles and columns called stalactites and stalagmites. `One centimeter of limestone takes about one hundred years to form,´ the guide added as she looked up towards the colossal terraces and pillars of rock clearly making her point. Church organ pipes, helmets of medieval warriors, curled up tobacco leaves, and delicate chandeliers of rock were pointed out, stirring everyone´s imagination throughout the serpentine passageways and chambers.
Many a king and lord from all over Europe have come to the grotto since its discovery, but in the late 18th century when the caves were first open for tourism, the interior was lit with thousands of candles positioned everywhere, including on tiny plates floating on the lake creating what must have been a surreal dreamscape for the regal visitors (although quite real for the person assigned the task of lighting the candles). Today, the electrical lighting reflects an orange glow on the walls of the cave, and green mold can be observed on some places due to the presence of these lights.
We were begged not to touch any of the formations as the natural grease on our hands could most likely disrupt the continual growth of the stalactites and stalagmites whereby the mineral-filled water would not be absorbed by the rock. The guide commented that many of the rocky growths had been broken off by previous tourists, visitors and even scientists, in the hopes of gaining a souvenir, a trophy, a specimen.
The only souvenirs we planned on taking home with us were the pile of photographs we snapped of the shy but photogenic grotto. The lighting wasn´t the best and we refused to use flash as the cold light stripped the place of its magical warmth. After the tour was over we strayed behind with the tour guide who revealed to us that just recently a new network of caves with underground lakes and even bigger and grander chambers had been discovered linked to Neptune´s Grotto via very small passages. When we asked her if she had seen them, she said shuddering `Dio mio, no! I don´t like narrow spaces and small passages.´
After we thanked our claustrophobic cave-tour guide, we began the arduous task of climbing the 654 steps of the Escala del Cabirol back up. The sea gulls accompanied us upwards and I rather envied their serene flight over our heads as we panted and struggled upwards with the grace of a couple of Sumo wrestlers. The sea looked as azure and content as it did before, and as we finally reached the top of the stairs we caught a fresh gust of wind which helped cool our overheated backs. Catching our breath, we looked around the surrounding landscape wondering what to do next. There was a little bay just around the corner with a lazy beach surrounded by crooked pine trees, and further inland were some hills peppered with different greens and an occasional lagoon. There was also the old colonial seaside town of Alghero offering traditional seafood dishes, underrated wines and old fortress walls. But for now, we decided to continue taking heed on the cheery ticket-man´s advice which, so far, seemed to embody perfectly what Sardinia was all about.
