Remote view­ing can help you tap into your full poten­tial, to amaze and inspire other people…

Eighth won­der of the world? The stun­ning tem­ples secretly carved out below ground by ‘para­nor­mal’ eccentric

by HAZEL COURTENEY

Nestling in the foothills of the Alps in north­ern Italy, 30 miles from the ancient city of Turin, lies the val­ley of Valchiusella. Pep­pered with medieval vil­lages, the hill­side scenery is cer­tainly picturesque.

But it is deep under­ground, buried into the ancient rock, that the region’s great­est won­ders are concealed.

Here, 100ft down and hid­den from pub­lic view, lies an aston­ish­ing secret — one that has drawn com­par­isons with the fabled city of Atlantis and has been dubbed ‘the Eighth Won­der of the World’ by the Ital­ian government.

For weav­ing their way under­neath the hill­side are nine ornate tem­ples, on five lev­els, whose scale and opu­lence take the breath away.

Con­structed like a three-dimensional book, nar­rat­ing the his­tory of human­ity, they are linked by hun­dreds of metres of richly dec­o­rated tun­nels and occupy almost 300,000 cubic feet — Big Ben is 15,000 cubic feet.

Few have been granted per­mis­sion to see these marvels.

Indeed, the Ital­ian gov­ern­ment was not even aware of their exis­tence until a few years ago.

But the ‘Tem­ples of Daman­hur’ are not the great legacy of some long-lost civ­i­liza­tion, they are the work of a 57-year-old for­mer insur­ance bro­ker from north­ern Italy who, inspired by a child­hood vision, began dig­ging into the rock.

It all began in the early Six­ties when Oberto Airaudi was aged ten. From an early age, he claims to have expe­ri­enced visions of what he believed to be a past life, in which there were amaz­ing temples.

Around these he dreamed there lived a highly evolved com­mu­nity who enjoyed an idyl­lic exis­tence in which all the peo­ple worked for the com­mon good.

More bizarrely still, Oberto appeared to have had a super­nat­ural abil­ity: the gift of “remote view­ing” — the abil­ity to travel in his mind’s eye to describe in detail the con­tents of any building.

“My goal was to recre­ate the tem­ples from my visions,” he says.

Oberto — who prefers to use the name ‘Falco’ — began by dig­ging a trial hole under his parent’s home to more fully under­stand the prin­ci­pals of excavation.

But it was only as he began a suc­cess­ful career as an insur­ance bro­ker that he began to search for his per­fect site.

In 1977, he selected a remote hill­side where he felt the hard rock would sus­tain the struc­tures he had in mind.

A house was built on the hill­side and Falco moved in with sev­eral friends who shared his vision. Using ham­mers and picks, they began their dig to cre­ate the tem­ples of Daman­hur — named after the ancient sub­ter­ranean Egypt­ian tem­ple mean­ing City of Light — in August 1978.

As no plan­ning per­mis­sion had been granted, they decided to share their scheme only with like-minded people.

Vol­un­teers, who flocked from around the world, worked in four-hour shifts for the next 16 years with no for­mal plans other than Falco’s sketches and visions, fund­ing their scheme by set­ting up small busi­nesses to serve the local community.

By 1991, sev­eral of the nine cham­bers were almost com­plete with stun­ning murals, mosaics, stat­ues, secret doors and stained glass win­dows. But time was run­ning out on the secret.

The first time the police came it was over alleged tax eva­sion and still the tem­ples lay undis­cov­ered. But a year later the police swooped on the com­mu­nity demand­ing: “Show us these tem­ples or we will dyna­mite the entire hillside.”

Falco and his col­leagues duly com­plied and opened the secret door to reveal what lay beneath.

Three police­men and the pub­lic pros­e­cu­tor hes­i­tantly entered, but as they stooped down to enter the first tem­ple — named the Hall of the Earth — their jaws dropped.

Inside was a cir­cu­lar cham­ber mea­sur­ing 8m in diameter.

Stunned by what they had found, the author­i­ties decided to seize the tem­ples on behalf of the government.

“By the time they had seen all of the cham­bers, we were told to con­tinue with the art­work, but to cease fur­ther build­ing, as we had not been granted plan­ning per­mis­sion,” says Esperide Ananas, who has writ­ten a new book called Daman­hur, Tem­ples Of Humankind.

Ret­ro­spec­tive per­mis­sion was even­tu­ally granted and today the ‘Daman­huri­ans’ even have their own uni­ver­sity, schools, organic super­mar­kets, vine­yards, farms, bak­eries and award-winning eco homes.

They do not wor­ship a spir­i­tual leader, though their tem­ples have become the focus for group meditation.

‘They are to remind peo­ple that we are all capa­ble of much more than we real­ize and that hid­den trea­sures can be found within every one of us once you know how to access them,’ says Falco.

(The Daily Mail)