In February I took part in a school trip to Italy, and part of our visit included a tour of the crater of Solfatara. Here's something I wrote about the experience- slightly more exotic when poeticised, of course! The purgatory and hell bit is a reference to the Victorian sauna which had two sections, one a higher temperature than the other, (hence the nicknames).

We are the travellers.

We venture into mists
that cloak us with billowing scents.
The fog lies hotly,
condenses on our cheeks.

We throw rocks to watch the ground vibrate,
the heartbeat that echoes
from the rib-cage of the earth.
We know that all is hollow beneath our feet,
scooped out like the sky.

Wonder rolls our eyes,
makes them round. Each iris
reflects bubbling pools,
sulphur spat from the ground.
The cracked skin of the world.

We light newspaper
to unfurl the mist. We are magicians,
revealing the earth’s secret breath.
We have been to purgatory and hell,
stooped low in their Victorian heat.
Emerged with yellow dust in our hair,
and sweating brows, full of grins.

We have counted the teeth of the earth,
felt her warmth through our feet.
We have hollowed out the sky
and filled it with our heaven.