You probably heard about tourism in the Chernobyl exclusion zone. I’ve been there myself several times. And it’s nothing like what you see in games or horror movies. There are no ghosts, mutants or radioactive anomalies and death isn’t waiting for you at every corner. Actually, I think it’s one of the most peaceful and prettiest places on Earth. An example of strength of nature and how it can reverse the damage that we caused it.

I stepped inside and shined my phone light down the shaft. It wasn’t strong enough to hit the bottom. The air was damp and old and there was something that I couldn’t identify. A very faint, chemical-like smell. There was no radiation nor signs of any other hazards.

“You’ve got to be kidding me. This is so cool. We have to come back here and check it out later.” Alex said.

I couldn’t agree more.

It was almost dark now, so we resealed the door and called it a day. But we promised ourselves to return.

“Dimitri!” Alex called from, the canteen on the opposite side of the corridor.

“What?” was all I could say when I followed him to the canteen.

There was food still neatly served on the tables. But it wasn’t spoilt. It wasn’t fresh either, but it wasn’t decaying, as a 30-year-old meal should.

“How is this possible?” I asked.