Explore the underworld Above ground, you probably won’t notice anything. If you don’t know, all you’ll see is beautiful forest and grassland, part of the protected Natura 2000 landscape of midJutland, spreading out around you. As you head past the old lime plant, held in place by massive grey chimneys, note the gentle rustle of stray wheat on the roadside, the smell of pine; the frantic flapping of a leathery wing, perhaps, as you inevitably make your way towards the dark tunnel ahead. Let the cool air greet you as you step inside. There’s a whole other world just underground, just waiting for you. By Louise Older Steffensen | Photos: Mønsted Kalkgruber
The world’s largest limestone mine is well-hidden, yes, but it’s right there and yours to discover, no matter who you are. It’s always a steady eight degrees down there, the humidity a demanding 98 per cent. The place is enormous. The people who work at Mønsted Kalkgruber know of roughly 60 kilometres of tunnels and caves snaking out across the area, and there might be many more. Some places are cordoned off for safety, but most of the underground walls, rivers and tunnels are free to climb and explore. Those less able or willing to run wild are just as welcome; the first parts of the tunnel system have been smoothed out, making 54 | Issue 134 | March 2020
space for everyone including wheelchair users to roam around underground. The first two kilometres are illuminated. Mønsted Kalkgruber is human-made. It all started a millennium ago, when Danes needed mortar for the construction of the country’s first stone buildings. People have been carving out pieces of Mønsted since at least 1060. “It was the normal peasants of the area who made an extra penny digging out the lime,” says tour guide Søren Frandsen. “That’s how it continued for centuries. The chalk was brought to a building site and mixed with sand and water, creating a
top-notch paste not unlike feta; the same mortar holding together the churches, cathedrals and other ancient buildings left to us today. At first, the Mønsted locals carved out simple holes in the ground, but as demand grew, they started tunnelling, constructing mines. Some people chipped at the walls; others, often women, carried out the big pieces.” Newer tunnels could become several metres high. Over time, lesser limestone pieces would be trod into the floor of the tunnels, raising the floor year by year until the carriers had to hunch over to move their haul through them. “There were quite a few similar, small quarries scattered around Denmark through the Middle Ages, nothing very special at all about Mønsted,” Frandsen says. “Then all that changed.”
Chalk it up to luck Industrialisation hit Denmark in the 19th century. Going with the spirit of the time, the King himself visited Mønsted