…enormous, at least two-metre thick, concrete double door slides open, and a dark and cool throat of the mountain is almost sucking me in. My jaw has dropped. No…I’m not reading you an excerpt from some horror or thriller novel, and my name is not James Bond.

I’m standing on the doorstep of the once top-secret facility on the Black Sea coast and now the Naval Museum Complex Balaklava on the south-east of Crimean peninsula, just a stone-throw away from the city of…

By L. Salt