Jun 9 • General discussion
Experience Like No Other
Welcome to the first article in what I hope will be a growing collection here on Magic Martyna Ferments.
Salt is at the heart of everything we do in fermentation — but its story goes so much deeper than the jar. This piece is about one of the most extraordinary places on earth, a personal adventure 135 metres underground, and a tradition of salt healing that stretches back centuries. I hope it gives you a new appreciation for this humble, ancient crystal — and if any of the home remedies spark curiosity or memories of your own, please share them in the comments below. I'd love to hear what you know.
Last month I had an experience like no other — I spent the night 135 metres below the ground, surrounded by rock formations older than I can comprehend, breathing in salt particles as I slept, in total darkness broken only by sounds that could only come from the undiscovered depths of the Earth (or from a fellow tourist snoring — allegedly). All this thanks to the Wieliczka Salt Mine: not only one of the original UNESCO World Heritage Sites, but also home to a unique health centre that has been focused on pulmonology recovery for many years.
Wieliczka Salt Mine Tour
The world is such an extraordinary place that it's hard to decide what to see in a lifetime, never mind assess the value of all its beauty. Throughout the ages, humans have recognised special places and worked to protect them so that their wonder could be preserved and passed on. One of the first formal collections of such places was the UNESCO World Heritage Site list. Two of those original sites happen to be in my motherland, Poland — Kraków's City Square, the largest medieval market in Europe, and the Wieliczka Salt Mine, just under an hour's drive away. In theory, you can see both in a single short trip to Kraków, which is one of the most popular city breaks in Poland — and for very good reason.
While almost every Polish citizen has visited the mine on a school trip, many return multiple times — with friends, to discover new routes, or to explore attractions such as the Miners' Route or the health centre. If I count correctly, my last visit was my fifth, and even then we walked a route I had never seen before.
It is truly difficult to describe the majesty of the whole complex without walking it yourself. The tourist route covers over 3.5 km across multiple levels — just 2% of all the corridors in the mine — and takes around three hours. The temperature in the main tourist mine holds at a constant 16–17°C year-round, making it a pleasant visit whether you arrive in the heat of a Polish summer or when it's absolutely freezing outside. The mine spans chamber after chamber, corridor after corridor, and chapel after chapel — all carved from salt. Chapels for prayer, because the history of Poland is deeply entwined with its faith, just as the miners who worked here carried their beliefs deep underground with them.
As we descended, the first chamber presented us with a salt sculpture of Saint Kinga, patron of the mine — the Hungarian princess who married into Polish nobility and championed the mine as a vital resource for its people. Salt was extraordinarily valuable then, and the English word salary even derives from sal, as workers were sometimes paid in salt. I only remembered that fact on my fifth visit, so there's always something new to take away.
Let's face it — the place is extraordinary, and I recommend everyone go and see it for themselves, because photographs of dark rock can only show so much. You have enormous salt chapels where people now get married, chambers dating to the mid-1600s, a full route showcasing ancient wooden staircases (terrifying in the best way), evidence of horses that once laboured underground, and even a statue of Copernicus — Mikołaj Kopernik, a Polish citizen — who visited as a student in 1493, at a time when people still believed the sun revolved around the Earth. The mine has been in continuous operation for so long, and yet it continues to welcome millions of visitors every year. That in itself is staggering.
St Kinga's Chapel
Stepping into St. Kinga's Chapel, 101 metres beneath the surface of the earth, it is difficult to know where to look first. Every surface has been carved from salt by hand — the floors, the walls, the altar — the work of generations of miners who were also, quietly after each shift, artists.
It is the wall carvings that stop many visitors in their tracks. Scenes of the Nativity, animals, and figures of devotion emerge from the salt as if they have always been there, waiting to be carved to life. Most astonishing of all is the bas-relief of the Last Supper — barely six inches deep into the salt, yet somehow conveying a sense of space and perspective that defies the eye. You find yourself leaning in, convinced the figures must recede further back than they possibly can.
The chamber itself stands an impressive 11 metres tall, beautifully lit, with light catching the salt crystals at every turn. The largest chandelier in the chapel is composed of no fewer than 2,500 crystals of halite — the purest form of salt. This extraordinary piece commands attention in a way the smaller, more modest chandeliers simply cannot. It casts a bright, clean white light that fills the entire space — and if you point your camera at just the right angle, you may capture what many visitors have come to call the halo effect: a luminous glow that seems almost otherworldly, and makes for a truly memorable photograph.
We ended the tour walking past an underground salt lake, accompanied by the gentle sound of Chopin — another Pole who visited the mine in 1829, though in his day the descent was made by rope rather than staircase. No thank you.
Salt Is Amazing Anyway
So what is so special about salt? Quite a lot, as it turns out. On the way to the mine I had a quick chat with an old friend who recommended Salt: A World History by Mark Kurlansky — which I fully intend to read. But in the meantime, here is what I know.
Salt has always been treated as a medicine before it was ever a condiment. It was essential for preservation and acted as a healing modality long before the age of pharmaceuticals. We still gargle with salt water for a sore throat and know that saline can disinfect minor wounds. But since creating this Skool community and diving deeper into the world of fermentation, I have come to appreciate just how much more this remarkable crystal has to offer — and how directly it connects to everything we do here. Lacto-fermentation is, at its core, a relationship between salt and the living world. Salt protects, draws out, transforms. The same properties that preserve a jar of sauerkraut are the ones that have been pulling fevers down and clearing infections for centuries.
Long before pharmacies lined every high street, salt was the medicine of the Polish countryside — passed quietly from one woman to another, considered as natural as breathing. It was not seen as a spice or a seasoning in these contexts, but as something deeper: a gift pulled from the earth, with the power to draw out whatever the body could not hold.
People arrived at healers' doors with fevers, chills, a heaviness in the limbs that no one could name. They left the next morning — as one account puts it — like newborns. A doctor from a regional clinic, whose daughter had been unable to break a fever for a week, found himself at such a door. By the second night, her temperature had returned to normal. He said nothing publicly. But he remembered.
The same salt that cleared a fever could pull infection from a wound overnight, ease bronchitis without antibiotics, or quiet a restless, anxious mind after fifteen minutes with tired feet in a warm bowl of water. These were not dramatic rituals — they were quiet, practical acts, rooted in the belief that salt does not add anything to the body. It draws out the excess.
"Salt is not a spice," the old healers would say. "It is an extract of the earth."
But salt in the Polish folk tradition also crossed into the spiritual. It was scattered in the corners of a house when someone arrived carrying what was described simply as heavy energy. If the salt darkened, it was burned — "Evil that is not mine will vanish in fire." These practices sit at the edge of what we now call superstition, but those who witnessed them rarely laughed twice.
Underground Health Resort
Our evening began at 7pm, gathering with a small group outside the Regis Shaft, everyone clutching hats and cosy layers — items you wouldn't think to need in 20°C surface heat, but very welcome at the health centre's consistent temperature of 12–13°C, noticeably cooler than the main tourist mine above. Our guardian, Pan Wiesiu, led us down the shaft and along roughly a mile of pine-clad corridors. As we walked, he pointed out sections of the route where humidity causes salt to crystallise naturally on the wood — beautiful, frost-like formations appearing on the timber as if conjured overnight. Pine is the only timber used in the mine, he explained, as it is both abundant across Europe and unusually resilient underground.
On our way to the dormitory, we passed the second health centre, Jezioro Wessel (Wessel Lake), which hosts daytime group activities. Pan Wiesiu explained we were heading to the third centre, but promised to bring us back once we'd unpacked. The first centre, he mentioned, was no longer in operation — water had come through and destroyed the electrical installation. Water, he told us, is the mine's greatest enemy.
The Stables
Our dormitory room greeted us with a sign: Stajnia Gór Wschodnich — The East Mountain Stables. The sleeping compartments were arranged like stable bays, which is precisely what this chamber once was. Open-plan sleeping in a space carved by nature, with twenty strangers nearby? No problem at all. Our bay had two bunk beds, a small lamp, and saloon-style doors that were charming until 6am, when everyone began crashing through them as though heading to a rodeo. Bring earplugs — sincerely.
The resort has a few rooms for guests to use: a ping pong table, a badminton court, and exercise bikes to get the blood moving. At the centre of the main room stands a graduation tower — a fountain-like structure that disperses salt particles into the air, creating a highly saturated atmosphere ideal for deep, therapeutic breathing.
As promised, Pan Wiesiu returned to take us to Wessel Lake, pausing along the way to share curious facts about salt formations and producing various tools from behind a large curtain — a man who clearly loves his work and enjoys giving visitors something extra.
At the lake, he switched on the graduation tower at the centre of a striking, salt-green body of water — 26% salinity. We settled into beanbags on a balcony above the water, the lights dimmed, and spent fifteen minutes surrounded by classical music and the sound of water dripping from stalactites, taking in the vastness of the chamber — or perhaps the smallness of ourselves within it. For the final five minutes, Pan Wiesiu turned off both the lights and the music. We sat in near-complete darkness and absolute silence, save for the occasional drip into the black lake below. It was the strangest, most raw moment of the nearly fifteen hours I spent underground. I genuinely half-expected the roar of a Balrog to echo through the cavern.
Fortunately, our guide restored the lights and we marched back like well-behaved scouts to enjoy the facilities and wrap up warm for the night.
I slept exceptionally well. Those in the group who had done this before say that with every visit, their health issues diminish. I would go back without hesitation.
Health Benefits of Salt Therapy
The Ancient Roots
Long before modern medicine, scholars recognised salt as one of nature's most powerful healers. As far back as the 16th century, Renaissance physicians were documenting the therapeutic properties of salt mined deep beneath Polish soil — noting its ability to treat skin conditions, tooth decay, respiratory ailments, and even snakebites. The Romans understood it too. Pliny the Elder wrote: "Nothing is more useful to the body than salt and sun."
The Birth of Balneology
By the 19th century, Dr Feliks Boczkowski formalised centuries of observation into a proper medical discipline — balneology, the science of therapeutic bathing. He established Wieliczka as a legitimate health resort, drawing patients from across Europe for brine baths, steam treatments, and mineral-rich saline water. Conditions treated included chronic bronchitis, digestive disorders, skin diseases, and nervous system complaints.
Going Deeper — Subterraneotherapy
In the 20th century, Professor Mieczysław Skulimowski took healing quite literally underground. He developed subterraneotherapy — therapeutic treatment using the unique microclimate found deep within salt mine chambers. The air down there is bacteriologically pure, naturally rich in sodium chloride, magnesium, manganese, and calcium, with stable humidity and temperature year-round — entirely free from the pollutants and allergens of the surface world.
Old photographs show rows of simple beds laid directly on the mine floor, patients tucked under heavy chequered blankets, the ancient glistening salt walls rising behind them. No clinical corridors, no sterile equipment — just the profound stillness of the earth and the quiet rhythm of breathing. Long before modern wellness retreats existed, people were travelling underground, trusting the earth to heal them.
What Are the Benefits?
Time spent in this underground salt environment has been shown to support:
- Respiratory health — particularly asthma, chronic bronchitis, and allergies
- Immune regulation — the pure, mineral-rich air reduces inflammatory load
- Nervous system recovery — stable, still conditions promote deep rest and stress reduction
- Skin conditions — salt's antimicrobial and anti-inflammatory properties work from the outside in
- Sleep quality — overnight stays use natural biological rhythms as part of the therapy
Home Recipes
These remedies were passed down through generations of Polish country healers — simple, practical, and rooted in the same belief that runs through everything above: salt draws out what the body no longer needs. You will very likely have everything you need in your kitchen right now.
- Fever — a pinch of dry salt placed in the socks before sleep; said to bring temperature down within two hours
- Throat and chest infections — a cloth soaked in strong saline solution applied to the neck and chest, covered with wool and a warm scarf overnight
- Abscesses and infected wounds — a salt poultice wrapped overnight to draw out infection
- Anxiety / head heaviness — feet soaked for 15 minutes in hot water with a handful of salt and a drop of vinegar
- Earache — a few handfuls of salt warmed in a dry pan, transferred to a clean sock and pressed gently against the painful ear
Have you tried any of these remedies — or do you have salt traditions of your own, handed down in your family? I would love to hear them. Share in the comments, and let's build a little library of this knowledge together.
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Experience Like No Other
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