Here we are at the highest point of the Cave. We are standing 14 metres above sea level, in a panoramic area that Nature — perhaps touched by a hint of vanity — seems to have created so that we poor, small human beings could admire her masterpiece from a privileged position. It is the perfect opportunity to take in this world in all its enchantment, a sweeping view that allows us to reflect on everything we have seen and realise that it was not merely a dream, but a real experience.
It is here that, in the past, the relationship between man and the Cave reached its highest expression during the most important visits: the notes that, with a little imagination, we can still hear echoing through the rarefied air of the cavern are those of orchestras and musicians who performed right on this terrace. A true music gallery from which sweet melodies, ascending and descending scales, and romantic waltz rhythms spread throughout the chamber below, accompanying the dances enjoyed by the fortunate and privileged guests gathered beneath.
Music and light, therefore: if during your visit you noticed black soot staining the walls of the Cave, it is because for a long time the only source of illumination came from candle flames. Certainly more evocative than electric lighting, yet — like all human activity — it left its mark on Nature’s work.
And precisely to avoid repeating the not-so-exemplary behaviour of those who came before us, it is only right that our presence in this place should be as light and sustainable as possible. Unfortunately, unlike the kings, princes, and noble ladies of the nineteenth century, we are not allowed to linger too long: at the end of this hall, in fact, we will follow a semicircular route and then retrace our steps — as so often happens in fairy tales — to complete the visit.