Translated Jeff Matthews
Sunday, after half a century, I found myself once again at the opening to the tunnel where it all started, and I was moved by my memories of the adventure. I was one of four impetuous, foolhardy kids exploring the darkest depths of the tunnel. It had a profound effect on me. The place was the Seiano Grotto at Posillipo with that mysterious hole in the wall sending out a mighty wind.
A few things have changed today. The tight little passage through the limestone masonry into the main gallery has been replaced by a strong metal gate and the first part of the long, narrow tunnel has electric lights. Leaning against the metal grating and looking into the gloom and listening carefully, I could still hear the familiar voices of the four of us: Mimmo, Renato, Giorgio e Fulvio.
You can relive with me the entire story from those days at this link: The First Time
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