Richard can tell you exactly where the black marble is in Ashford church. Either side of the door, two plaques, ornate table in the far corner. He lives locally. He knows the area.

The mine where they dug the marble out? That took a bit longer.

Wednesday’s trip to Rookery Mine started with Richard marching up the wrong road while the rest of the group waited in the car park. He wasn’t even close, and that’s on us. Our directions were wrong. Not slightly wrong. Wrong road, wrong hill, wrong side of Ashford wrong.

Chris went to find him. Kyle shared his live location. Mary fired off map coordinates. A small search party for a trip that hadn’t started yet.

“Obviously should have found out where it was before tonight,” Richard said afterwards, taking blame he shouldn’t have. The man followed our directions. The directions were rubbish.

Mary had already done the hard yards before anyone arrived. She’d driven to Marple mid-afternoon to collect Rachel, then headed to the village shop to grab the access key before it closed. Lifts, kit advice, access, six people across three counties on a Wednesday evening, and then leading the trip on top.

Her pre-trip briefing was simple: helmet, lamp, gloves, wellies. Maybe kneepads. Full caving gear was overkill for a mine this spacious. “Please wear clothes though,” she added. Nobody asked follow-up questions.

Inside, the mine opens up and you can walk upright. Calcite formations have crept across the walls and ceiling since the last quarrymen left. The limestone carries bitumen through it, grey by torchlight but the kind of thing that polishes to a deep glossy black. That’s the “marble” they were after, centuries ago.

The group spent time hunting the walls for the oldest graffiti they could find. Richard spotted 1801, which got everyone wondering who scratched their name into this rock over two hundred years ago, and what they’d make of six people from a caving club doing the same walk on a Wednesday night.

“All 6 of us went in and all 6 came out and no one actually fell over, to say how slippy it was we did well.” Given the entrance drama, Ness getting everyone home vertical felt like the win of the evening.

“Always good to go new places. The hike at the beginning was just an extra.”

The next morning, Richard dropped the keys back at the village shop. One of the staff started looking up The Caving Crew with a view to coming on a trip.

We sent the man to the wrong entrance and he came back with a recruit. Efficient, that.