Turda Salt mine

 An unfortunate name if you are conversant in English slang, but the website declares that Turda “is the world’s most spectacular natural underground formation, shaped by people.”

This is an unusual venue for a Jewish Journey. There is no direct symbolism related to Turda and Jewish history, but we are in the region and it seems we ought to visit one of the most visited tourist sites.

The region is very rich in natural salt deposits. We are told by our guide that it contains enough salt (38 million tons) for the world’s needs for the next 60 years. (Not sure if they update this figure every year  😜 - will it be 59, next year? - but it seems like a lot of salt).

As it happens the mine closed down in 1932. Interestingly, history suggests that it was mined since way back in 1271 when it first appears in records, and has been in existence since Roman times.

 

We are led down a long tunnel, which I find eerily redolent of some other tunnels I have been seeing on the news recently.

 

 

Eventually, deeper in, we reach a place where the walls are covered in both salt crystals at the bottom and a sort of slime form of an aqueous salt solution making a smooth surface wall on top.

Our first stop is at an echo chamber. Here we test the echo. The guide asks us if we want to shout, “England.” We politely obey. But we have a Scot in our group and he takes exception, proceeding to shout, “Scotland”. The guide counts the number of echoes each time as if it were a competition. I counted 8, but she carries on counting to 22 and 23 respectively. I admit to being a bit deaf, so this is no surprise. But the England/Scotland thing isn’t sitting comfortably with me. Neither is part of my identity. Our resident Scot, who happens to be an amazing singer, loudly bellows out the song “Loch Lomond”. Then we all shout out, “Am Yisrael Chai” – the nation of Israel lives. It is an affirmation of solidarity with the Jewish people. I can happily join in with this.

Beautiful striations of rock and salt in the echo chamber

A week later I was to join 40,000 of my people on a march through London to highlight the plight of the Israeli hostages in Gaza. We carry posters with pictures of a hostage on one side and a plea to “Bring Them home” on the other. Amidst cries of, “Bring them home!” and “Let them go!” we occasionally break out into “Am Yisrael Chai.” This occasion and this singing are much more meaningful and I am reminded of the facile rendition we screamed at the echo chamber. Unfortunately, this too, is an echo chamber. We are singing into the ether. Our voices might be heard, but they are not listened to or acknowledged.

We carry on our tour and see how the salt was extracted, and how it was brought to the surface. 

Pulley system to raise the mined salt to the surface

 

  

 

 

 

 

 

The tour ends with an opportunity to take a lift down to the main chamber. This is a massive bell-shaped cavity resulting from the way the salt was hewn out by hand over millennia. It houses, of all things, a theme park. There is a Ferris wheel and various amusements, stalls, and kiosks. There is also a small lake, resulting from the salt extraction process, on which you can take circular rides in small boats. 

The lake seen from above

 

 

 

 

 

 

The lake seen from the amusement park area

 

There is even a miniature golf course. My dad would have seen the humour. My father, although a GP, had several businesses in South Africa before we left. One of them was a partnership in a chain of miniature golf courses, Putt-Putt.

Miniature golf combined with an exhibition of mined produce

 

For an installation that has putatively been going since Roman times, bowing to modern entertainment is a disappointment.