I crawled through the 2 by 2 feet hole. I checked the map again. If the map is right then in about 30 ft, this passage should open into a big enough chamber for me to walk out of this aptly named Labyrinth cave. My elbows were bruised. So were my knees. And then a small stalactite scratched my forehead. That’s when time stopped for me.I decided to lie down. 100s of small thorny stones were pinching me. I was calm. I looked around. A video feed of this would have been claustrophobic for the viewers, but I felt nothing. At least not till my forehead got scratched.

Real-world has real risks that the artificial world does not subject us to. Water parks don’t have whirlpools; waterfalls do. People don’t fall off the cliff and die while climbing on a gym escalator; in real hikes, 100s die every year. Sailing a boat has a real risk of capsizing; it’s rare for cruise ships. California’s Lava Bed National Monument, where I was hiking, is real. Unlike the touristy cave of Carlsbad National Park, there are no emergency call boxes here. No cell signal. No park rangers. I’m 30 ft below the surface. With limited food and water. Apart from my car parked near the entrance, there is no proof that I’m even here.

30 minutes later, “Veggie Delight; no cheese, all veggies; mustard and vinegar on top”, I said to the Subway Artist™. I was back in the cozy artificial world.