The Craziest Place I’ve Ever Been

You don’t forget your first subterranean date. That’s right—I’m talking about a date that took place in total silence, deep in the heart of a cave, surrounded by stalactites, bats, and…awkward tension. Trust me, I wasn’t planning a romantic getaway worthy of a Guillermo del Toro film, but life has a way of surprising you. What started as a spur-of-the-moment adventure turned into one of the strangest and most unexpectedly beautiful experiences of my life—and, perhaps, the closest I’ve ever felt to someone without exchanging a single word.

Let me paint the scene.

Into the Depths: How Did I End Up in a Cave?

It was the summer I spent in Guilin, a city in southern China famous for its otherworldly karst mountains and lush rivers. Picture Avatar come to life: cliffs floating in mist, vivid green landscapes, and, apparently, a treasure trove of caves begging to be explored. At the time, I had just started seeing Cheng, a budding photographer with unbrushed hair, a camera always slung over his shoulder, and a sense of adventure that made me feel both thrilled and mildly terrified.

“Let’s go somewhere different,” he said, which—pro tip—is always code for “Prepare yourself for chaos.” That’s how I found myself standing at the edge of Reed Flute Cave, clutching his hand and wondering what, exactly, I had signed up for.

When you picture a cave, maybe you think of a dusty, cramped space. Reed Flute, however, is like stepping into a natural cathedral. Ancient stalagmites and stalactites rise and drop like organ pipes, illuminated by ethereal multicolored lights. It was stunning, sure. But here’s what Cheng neglected to tell me. About 30 seconds in, the guide stops giving instructions, and the group is encouraged to observe strict silence. Apparently, something about experiencing the cave through hushed awe is better than, say, me nervously narrating my thoughts the entire way through.

I could feel a growing pang of panic. A date? Without talking? But I didn’t want to embarrass myself, so I nodded, zipped my mouth shut, and we descended further into the darkness.

Lingering Awkwardness: When Silence Hits Different

Being in total silence with someone you’re casually dating is not for the faint of heart. We usually rely on words to anchor us—playful teasing, small talk, even a laugh to break the tension. Take that away, and you’re left with the raw, unvarnished presence of the other person. Which, fun fact, is borderline terrifying.

Every inhalation and exhalation from Cheng echoed in my ears, as if my own body were hyperaware of his every move. I tried not to overthink it, but my brain was spiraling:

What if I trip on this uneven floor and bring us both down like dominoes? Am I walking weird? Oh my god, what if I sneeze?

At one point I turned to look at Cheng, hoping for some silent confirmation that I wasn’t alone in my mental breakdown. Instead of reassurance, though, I was surprised by how serene he seemed. There he was, standing with his face lifted toward the colossal formations overhead, his features soft in the cool, damp glow. He caught me staring, gave a small smile, and gestured for me to look up too.

I did. And in that moment, I forgot about my anxieties.

The Beauty of Being Small

The cave was like true magic—the good kind, not the “I’m trapped in a creepy Indiana Jones sequel” kind. Giant stone curtains rippled along the walls as if frozen mid-billow. Pillars stretched upward, meeting like lovers after years of separation. It was hauntingly ethereal, and it had been here for millions of years, surviving storms and quakes and time itself.

Suddenly, all my fears felt so small. The silence wasn’t oppressive; it became the language of the cave. It forced Cheng and me out of our heads, out of our masks as “people on a date,” and into something deeper. To stand next to someone in that moment and feel a sense of wonder was…well, unexpectedly intimate. More than talking, more than holding hands, it was like we were sharing a secret with the earth itself.

I started to relax. I stopped walking like a stressed robot and let my movements flow naturally. With no one talking, there was no need to “perform.” I didn’t have to impress Cheng with witty jokes, didn’t have to analyze his reactions, didn’t have to pretend I knew what I was doing. I could just…be.

And honestly? That’s rare.

What I Learned in the Dark

Emerging from the cave into the sunlight felt like surfacing from deep water. Cheng and I finally broke our self-imposed silence, and I tried (and failed) to put the experience into words.

“It was, um…wow,” I managed, as articulate as ever. Cheng—still blissfully unbothered—simply nodded.

“That was good,” he said. And it was.

Here’s the thing about dating: so much of it feels performative. You’re testing the waters, waiting to see how much of yourself you can reveal without scaring the other person away. But the cave stripped all of that away. In silence, there was no push and pull. There were no perfect lines to deliver, no slickly choreographed moves. There was just us, two people standing side by side in a place that made us feel incredibly small and humbled—and, weirdly, connected.

For all the activity dates we go on (mini golf, museums, cooking classes), there’s something profound about doing absolutely nothing except sharing a moment of awe. I realized that what I craved wasn’t Cheng being funny or charming or even talking. It was just being with someone who felt the same wonder I did, who could enjoy the quiet without needing to fill it. That, I think, is a pretty good test for any relationship.

Can you stand next to someone in silence and feel okay?

How You Can Bring This to Your Love Life

Let me be clear: I’m not suggesting you drag your Tinder match into a cave (unless that’s your thing). But here are a few takeaways from my Reed Flute experience that might help turn a “meh” date into something meaningful:

  1. Try silence: Go for a walk without headphones or a running commentary. You’d be surprised by how quickly the absence of chatter forces you to tune into your surroundings—and each other.

  2. Do something humbling: Whether it’s stargazing, visiting an art exhibit, or hiking a mountain trail, choose an experience that puts your life into perspective. There’s something about realizing how small you are that makes your connection feel so much bigger.

  3. Let go of control: Not every moment needs a punchline or a photogenic finish. Share an experience not for the Instagram post, but for the simple act of being present together. It’s less pressure and, ironically, usually more memorable.

  4. Allow spontaneity: Maybe it’s saying yes to a cave tour, maybe it’s just letting your date pick a spot for dinner. Going with the flow creates opportunities for the kind of magic you can’t plan.

The Final Takeaway

Reed Flute Cave is definitely up there as one of the craziest places I’ve ever been, not just for its beauty but for what it taught me about connection. Sometimes, the best dates aren’t just drinks at a bar or layered banter across a polished table. They’re the ones where you step out of your comfort zone, stop talking so much, and realize you don’t need words to know when something’s real.

Cheng and I didn’t last forever. But that’s okay. The quiet lesson in that cave still echoes for me today: The right person doesn’t need you to perform. They’ll find you in the stillness.