-Learn the fascinating history of the Cold War and World War II-While exploring the bunkers, learn exercises that help strengthen your relationship and inner balance
Usually just out of sight is a room. But the room is empty. It’s empty most of the time. It sits and simmers. It reeks of ancient rubbery green been casseroles in floral dishes, the person who made the meal long gone. Their protected recipe long forgotten. The air hangs still and dead. This is not a place where life happens. Except maybe once or twice a year. A Christmas party, barely remembered. A big birthday gathering. A high school reunion. Moments of brief humanity in an endless dark. The room feels older than it should. Bigger. Wrong. Maybe it’s just what happens to a place that is so often neglected. The room often grows restless. It grows resentful. It has no identity. It is a nothing place, a backdrop in a thousand grainy photos. And yet it had to be made, thought of once, someone had to install the carpet, now old and filled with dust. Someone bought the lights and put them up, though only a few now hum with life, most sit dead and lifeless, burned out for a lifetime. Someone once must have thought of the room, though now it’s secrets are long lost. Now the room simmers and reeks, but it will always be there when someone needs it. Someone will find the key and turn on the lights, the chairs will be dragged out of their stacks and the uncomfortably heavy tables unfolded. Someone might spill a drink into the carpet. Music might shake dust from the ceiling. Then, someone will leave the room last. turn of the lights, lock the door, and plunge it into another thousand nights until the next time, the room will wait.