Ancient Hidden Tunnel Unknown Even to the Locals

Earlier this week we met some very dear friends for lunch, but before lunch we had an incredible adventure. They recently discovered a tunnel, age unknown but likely Etruscan, near their home. The tunnel is unmarked, and was unknown even to the brothers who live within walking distance - we parked our cars nearby their house. They were wondering why we wanted to park there, because the existence of the tunnel is news to them!

Very sadly, I did not get great pictures here, so these will have to suffice. There is no path leading to the tunnel; we hiked through fields full of grass and flowers that were nearly waist-high. (Fun fact: I literally do not own a pair of pants, other than one pair of pants for concerts. So I was tramping around in a mid-length skirt, and even funnier, I was wearing a shirt and shawl that I have literally worn in dozens of concerts before. Do you know anyone else who wears concert clothing on hikes in ancient tunnels?? Well, now you do).

It was a cloudless blue-sky day, the fields were bursting with flowers and birdsong and life. After a few hundred meters’ walk we came to a small opening in some hedge (luckily our friends had brought a machete. A machete!!) — so they cut a bit of a bigger opening, which revealed a small steep hill down to a gulley. My (very patient) friends found a long dead branch, which they used to help me heave my super-inappropriately-dressed-self down this hill without breaking my neck or ankle, and soon we found ourselves in a shady trench completely covered by tall trees.

The trench formed a kind of path that led us to the tunnel, whose opening must have been over one story tall. I will admit that i was verklempt when I saw a sheep skull spiked on a stick outside the tunnel’s huge entrance, but not wanting to look like a coward, even though I am one, I decided to proceed. Did I mention that the tunnel emits a chill, almost a cold breeze, that smells of stone and damp and age? You feel this cold breeze emanating from it as you approach. I could have sworn that I heard some low groaning sounds, maybe ten or twelve contrabassi and a few low French horns, but maybe that was just in my mind. Who can say?

Our friends had mini flashlights, which was great, since the tunnel is so long, you can not see daylight after just a few steps inside. At its large opening, it has almost a trapezoid-type shape, just like the 2500-year-old tunnel at Cuma we visited last week. As you walk along, the tunnel gets more narrow and the ceiling gets lower, until you have to bend a bit at the very end to exit on the other side. When you exit, there you are, in full daylight, fields exploding in wildflowers, and just 20 steps away, when you look behind you, you’d never know the massive tunnel was there.

I embarrassed myself by crying just a smidge in that tunnel. I can’t explain exactly why — partly awe at the experience, partly a healthy fear of murderers and wild boars and ghosts. But I remembered that my friends have a ton of experience exploring things like this, and also a MACHETE, so we’d probably be OK.

I am humbled and grateful to have had this chance to see this hidden sight. It’s not on a map, it’s not signposted, it’s certainly not in Rick Steves. What an unforgettable and unique experience. Grazie mille, amici!!!