When I was a kid, we used to hang out in an abandoned Georgian cold-store - it was on the grounds of my school, with an entrance hidden in a thicket.
We called it "Dick Turpin's Cave", even though it was self-evidently no such thing, but it was damnably cool - both figuratively and literally - and on a hot summer's day, sneaking off from games to go loiter in our brick-lined flagstone-floored cave and play pog or what have you was... special. And probably incredibly dangerous. One end of it was collapsed - it was shaped like a cross with an entrance in the ceiling of one lobe.
I more than understand the appeal. There's some innate human instinct to tunnel - perhaps at some point in our history we made burrows to live in, in the absence of other construction materials - I mean, we lived in caves, so...
We called it "Dick Turpin's Cave", even though it was self-evidently no such thing, but it was damnably cool - both figuratively and literally - and on a hot summer's day, sneaking off from games to go loiter in our brick-lined flagstone-floored cave and play pog or what have you was... special. And probably incredibly dangerous. One end of it was collapsed - it was shaped like a cross with an entrance in the ceiling of one lobe.
I more than understand the appeal. There's some innate human instinct to tunnel - perhaps at some point in our history we made burrows to live in, in the absence of other construction materials - I mean, we lived in caves, so...