After a hurried wash and breakfast of porridge and strong tea, we were bustled out of the barracks, allocated picks and sent off to the mines on foot. The entrance was guarded by a couple of brawny giants who demanded to see our identification before giving us each a card that we had to punch into a machine at every section we entered and left. Beyond the entrance and the first machine was a long narrow passageway lit only by flickering lights, down which we were funnelled, emerging into a cavern dominated almost entirely by a metal lift that took up more than half of its walls. ‘Karel says it’s used to ferry the carts that carry the salt to the surface. They would have been the first ones down this morning,’ Amadey said in an awed whisper, as we entered the lift. ‘Good for them,’ I said, but my irony was lost on Amadey, who seemed to delight in every small experience in the mines. The lift crawled slowly down a long shaft, ejecting us finally into a huge chamber, well lit by gas lamps.
