Over one hundred and eighty metres below the ground, in the cool shadows of Colombia, lies the Salt Cathedral of Zipaquira.

Over 3000 people attend mass each Sunday at this subterranean Roman Catholic church. The lack of bishop, however, means that the use of the word cathedral is a creative, affectionate touch from the citizens of the surrounding region of Cundinamarca (or a cynical ploy to encourage tourists. But the milk of human kindness is fresh, cool and frothy today.)

In a salty slice of symmetry to a labyrinth thousands of miles away in Poland, miners constructed makeshift chapels in which they could pray for safety before getting on to the work at hand. Over the time, the mines began to run dry while the stories of the salt sculptures spread.

Today, tourists visit the stations of the cross during the week, aided by ramps, lighting and various other adaptations to help the non-miners among us to navigate underground.

It’s a place of rough edges and raw beauty. Of quiet reflection and quite moving faith.

And it’s also a place to fall in love with through a camera.

Enjoy the photos,

Disclosure : I travelled to Colombia as a guest of ProExport Colombia. I write about whatever I like over here, as ever, as always.