Wali Songo 02: Tuban - The City of Thousand Caves...

"You don't have to see the whole staircase, just take the first step..." - Martin Luther King Jr.

Day 02: 09 Oct 2025 (Thursday)
Route: Surabaya - Gresik - Tuban
Hotel: Fave Hotel, Tuban

(Diving into the spiritual depth of Wali Songo)

The 4.00 a.m. alarm rang softly in the stillness of dawn, calling us to rise for Subuh prayers. The world outside was hushed; even the air felt sacred. After prayer, I sat quietly with the Quran, reading a few verses that filled the heart with calm. It was a peaceful beginning — a moment of still reflection before another full day on our spiritual trail through Java.

By sunrise, the group gathered for breakfast. A plate of fluffy omelettes and toast, a bowl of warm porridge, and sweet pastries awaited us. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee — though just one simple blend — felt comforting. After checking out of the hotel, we boarded the bus, our spirits light, ready to continue the Wali Songo journey.

Our path led us toward Gresik, an ancient port town northwest of Surabaya. Long ago, traders from China, Arabia, and India docked here, bringing not only goods but also the first whispers of Islam to Java. Today, Gresik remains a place where faith and history breathe together — a town where industry meets devotion.

From the bus park, we took two small angkot vans up the winding road toward Gunung Giri, where Sunan Giri (1442–1506) rests. The climb up the steep steps tested our strength, yet every step felt like a prayer. Around us, pilgrims moved quietly — some elderly, some young — their faces serene, their whispers of doa carried by the wind. When we finally reached the tomb, the air felt heavy with reverence.

Sunan Giri, also known as Raden Paku, was not only a scholar but also a teacher whose influence reached far beyond Java — to Lombok, Makassar, and the Maluku Islands. He founded the Giri Islamic School, where faith, leadership, and compassion flourished. I felt humbled standing there, imagining the light of his teachings still glowing centuries later.

A short drive away stood the Tomb of Sunan Gresik (1350–1419), known also as Maulana Malik Ibrahim. The site was peaceful, shaded by old trees and surrounded by gentle quiet. His marble gravestone, carved in the elegant style of Gujarat, reminded us of his origins — a man who came from distant Kashan, bringing not only trade but also the message of Islam through kindness, farming, and service to the people.

Nearby lay the Tomb of Temenggong Poesponegoro, the first Regent of Gresik. The low entrance forced every visitor to bow, a symbolic gesture of humility before the greats who came before.

By noon, hunger led us to Samorasso Nasi Padang. As plates of spicy rendang, sambal, and vegetables filled the table, the familiar flavours of Padang cuisine warmed our spirits. Hot jasmine tea soothed the weariness of travel.

We continued along the Pantura Road, which threads through Java’s northern coast. Along the way, we stopped at Masjid Akbar Moed’har Arifin, a grand mosque in Sekapuk. With its elegant white domes and open courtyards, it serves not only as a house of worship but also a resting place for travellers like us. Standing there, I felt gratitude — for the journey, for safety, for faith that connects us all.

In Paciran Village, Lamongan, we visited the Tomb of Sunan Drajat (1470–1522). His resting place, built on seven terraces, symbolizes the steps toward spiritual purity. A cool breeze drifted through the carved wooden gates as pilgrims whispered their prayers. Nearby, the museum displayed artefacts and musical instruments once used by the saint — reminders of how he spread Islam not through force, but through compassion, art, and music.

By late afternoon, the road brought us to Tuban, the “City of a Thousand Caves.” This coastal town has long been a cradle of Islam in Java — its sands touched by history and faith. Behind the Great Mosque of Tuban lies the Tomb of Sunan Bonang (1465–1525). From the bus terminal, we rode rickshaws through narrow streets to reach it.

Sunan Bonang, the son of Sunan Ampel, was a scholar, artist, and mystic who used gamelan melodies to spread the message of Islam. His tomb, adorned with carved gates and floral motifs, radiated quiet dignity. Nearby stood the “Qur’an Well,” believed to carry blessings. I dipped my hand into the cool water, feeling a deep calm — a reminder that knowledge and devotion, like water, flow endlessly through time.

As night fell, we had dinner at Kayu Manis Resto, beside our hotel. The dishes — pais ikan terubuk, tomyam, satay, mee goreng — tasted even better after a day of reflection and walking.

We checked into the Fave Hotel Tuban for the night — a bright, modern place close to the beach. As I lay down, I felt both weary and grateful — each day on this journey revealing not just the history of Java, but also the quiet strength of faith that continues to live within its people.