Professor Lidenbrock and his nephew Axel manage to decipher a cryptogram in runic by Arne Saknussem, a 16th century Icelandic scientist, and I have reproduced the text at the beginning of my book on padded stitch.

The message invites the curious traveller to embark on a journey to the centre of the Earth, as he did, by descending into the chimney of the Icelandic volcano Sneffels.

As I unravelled the work told above, I listened to novels that addressed the theme of going deep, of descending into the depths and experiencing dimensions out of the ordinary. Verne’s suggestion won out, because I saw myself going into the bowels of thread and canvas, to investigate every movement, the details, the moments.

Padded stitch asks us to make ourselves small and to furrow with curiosity the wefts on the stretched fabric.

So small as to catch a glimpse of the needle emerging on the horizon, like a minute spectator before a majestic prehistoric creature, appearing and disappearing on the surface of the ocean, intent on its mysterious chores.

Professor Lidenbrock, Axel and the Icelandic guide Hans set off down the volcano on 18 June 1863 and experience excitement, uncertainty and fear; they were lost and found; they were confronted with the impossible. Yet they re-emerged.

They did not reach the centre of the Earth.

Perhaps it cannot be reached.

But the journey has transformed them.

When and where do they re-emerge? On 29 September, from the chimney of the Stromboli volcano.

I re-emerged on 31 August, but that’s another story.