Liege, Belgium //
London to Latvia (and everything in between) - Part 8
The last day of the big Baltic adventure
Date April 2010
Posted October 2011
Posted October 2011
It was the last day, the home straight. Waking up to a misted-up windscreen and a bad neck was just becoming routine now for siologen and I. Half-awake and not wanting to hang around this nasty industrial estate any longer we drove across town and ended up in an equally unimpressive looking residential street. Dogs roamed the streets and the locals eyed us with contempt. Up above the rooftops a giant blast furnace rose high and black against the overcast sky.
Stuck for ideas the night before I'd made a call to local exploring heavyweight slyv to see if he had any suggestions. This was Belgium after all - one merely needs to apply for the latest brochure and pick out a few sights ;) In our case it was the sprawling Arcelor-Mittal steelworks, bits of which were in the process of being knocked down. And the centrepiece amongst this desolation was of course that big blast furnace. Even before the black and white processing these pictures didn't look much different. It was a miserable day.
As far as we could tell we'd have the best chance of sneaking in unseen by climbing over a fence near the disused buildings (a lot of the site is still fully active). It was now Monday though and the demo workers were in for the day, backstreet garages were coming to life and people were frequently walking past. Finally there was an opportunity and we seized it, arriving on the other side of the fence a few energetic seconds later. Not far away were some of the huge sheds, which looked like adequate cover. We ran.
Cutting through the various buildings it wasn't too hard to find a way to the furnace. Stairs and gantries went off in all directions but it was easy enough to work out which way would take us to the top. Around us on the site machinery was moving but we were too filthy and inconspicuous up here to be seen. Before long we reached electronic displays and control panels - this big dragon was really just sleeping. Not happy with anything less than the top we kept going, concerned at one point that the security on the front gate might see us. Silently we watched them walking about between cars and portacabins below, but they never looked up.
There were a few other points of interest due for investigation on the way back to Lille, not to mention a car clean-out of epic proportions which would have to be fitted in before handing the thing back, so there wasn't time to waste. By the time we were halfway back down the haut fourneaux the demolition work below was really coming to life. Dodging between dark-coloured objects and keeping time on exposed staircases to a minimum we reached the expanse of wasteland where most of the steelworks once stood.
Inside the big shed next to the one that we'd passed through to reach the furnace a big grabber was ripping into the roof. Deftly we picked a route through, careful to ensure we weren't seen. And of course then you reach that point where you're close enough to the fence that it wouldn't really matter if you were spotted. We reached the car filthy and hungry. Breakfast time.
After a reasonably short drive west (or at least, short by comparison to previous days' drives) we found another disused (or so we thought) industrial premises - thanks again to slyv for the hook-up. This time a colossal powerplant, known to be either mothballed or awaiting demolition. It stood there looking cold, miserable and unwanted - much like the two fools staring at it and trying to work out one might breach its walls. Ultimately we found an obvious way in, only to narrowly avoid running into a group of workmen in the turbine hall.
From the advantage of an the upper level in the boiler house we watched them milling about and it soon became obvious that we weren't going to be seeing much. But by now we didn't really care - this was just filler.
At some point in the afternoon it was time to make a final border crossing, back into France. This one I had expected to be the easiest, since on the way out of France we hadn't even passed through anything properly resembling a control point. Maybe this was a major route? By now we were used to the distasteful stares of the guards, thinking nothing of their attention until once more we were shepherded off to the side and instructed to park next to another vehicle. Beside the other car stood two worried looking men, roughly the same age as us. Inside the front of their car several customs guys were busy pulling the centre console apart. Wires and plastic were going everywhere.
It was probably for the best that we hadn't stopped to clean out the car yet. Siologen was summoned to the back of the car and told to open the boot. A couple of minutes routing around and a few questions were enough to convince the guards that we were either telling the truth or were just too damn disorganised to ever pull off drug smuggling. Whichever it was, they let us go. I nodded sympathetically to the two lads, and then we were gone.
The last stop before Lille International was a huge Carrefour supermarket on the outskirts of the city. Having parked up we disappeared inside the huge store in search of supplies - in particular soap, water and binbags. Now we could begin the clean-up operation in earnest, opening the doors to allow air in and collecting approximately four black bags of rubbish from inside.
This done it was time to have a brief clean of ourselves, notably our feet which had suffered. Astute readers will remember siologen describing us as having an approximation of trenchfoot all the way back in part 4, and things hadn't really improved much since then. At some point a family walked past and siologen is adamant that the little girl burst into tears because of the smell, but then again it might've just been down to the sight of it all. Just look at it.
The friendly man at the car hire desk happily took the keys back and said he'd be in touch if there was a problem. Indeed a week or so later there was a letter for some additional 40 Euro charge which I paid without even bothering to investigate. If the little car had been able to talk or had simply been fitted with a tracker, then there'd probably have been quite a few questions to answer. Instead we boarded the Eurostar and collapsed into our seats in silence. For once neither of us had anything to say.
The London to Latvia roll of thanks extends to the following people: siologen for being top class company and for doing probably more than his fair share of the driving, DLB for the urban adventures the night before I left England, and the route wouldn't have been quite as interesting without help from slyv, ds, Pierre, Benkar and AC. Even now after various other trips on a similar theme, this one stands out as a favourite. If you haven't ever thrown a load of stuff in the back of a car and gone off on a long adventure like this, then I highly recommend you do so. It's liberating, exciting and challenging, and you just never know how it's going to turn out.
This article is the final part of a eight part series entitled 'London to Latvia (and everything in between)'. You can read the previous part here.
Stuck for ideas the night before I'd made a call to local exploring heavyweight slyv to see if he had any suggestions. This was Belgium after all - one merely needs to apply for the latest brochure and pick out a few sights ;) In our case it was the sprawling Arcelor-Mittal steelworks, bits of which were in the process of being knocked down. And the centrepiece amongst this desolation was of course that big blast furnace. Even before the black and white processing these pictures didn't look much different. It was a miserable day.
As far as we could tell we'd have the best chance of sneaking in unseen by climbing over a fence near the disused buildings (a lot of the site is still fully active). It was now Monday though and the demo workers were in for the day, backstreet garages were coming to life and people were frequently walking past. Finally there was an opportunity and we seized it, arriving on the other side of the fence a few energetic seconds later. Not far away were some of the huge sheds, which looked like adequate cover. We ran.
Cutting through the various buildings it wasn't too hard to find a way to the furnace. Stairs and gantries went off in all directions but it was easy enough to work out which way would take us to the top. Around us on the site machinery was moving but we were too filthy and inconspicuous up here to be seen. Before long we reached electronic displays and control panels - this big dragon was really just sleeping. Not happy with anything less than the top we kept going, concerned at one point that the security on the front gate might see us. Silently we watched them walking about between cars and portacabins below, but they never looked up.
There were a few other points of interest due for investigation on the way back to Lille, not to mention a car clean-out of epic proportions which would have to be fitted in before handing the thing back, so there wasn't time to waste. By the time we were halfway back down the haut fourneaux the demolition work below was really coming to life. Dodging between dark-coloured objects and keeping time on exposed staircases to a minimum we reached the expanse of wasteland where most of the steelworks once stood.
Inside the big shed next to the one that we'd passed through to reach the furnace a big grabber was ripping into the roof. Deftly we picked a route through, careful to ensure we weren't seen. And of course then you reach that point where you're close enough to the fence that it wouldn't really matter if you were spotted. We reached the car filthy and hungry. Breakfast time.
After a reasonably short drive west (or at least, short by comparison to previous days' drives) we found another disused (or so we thought) industrial premises - thanks again to slyv for the hook-up. This time a colossal powerplant, known to be either mothballed or awaiting demolition. It stood there looking cold, miserable and unwanted - much like the two fools staring at it and trying to work out one might breach its walls. Ultimately we found an obvious way in, only to narrowly avoid running into a group of workmen in the turbine hall.
From the advantage of an the upper level in the boiler house we watched them milling about and it soon became obvious that we weren't going to be seeing much. But by now we didn't really care - this was just filler.
At some point in the afternoon it was time to make a final border crossing, back into France. This one I had expected to be the easiest, since on the way out of France we hadn't even passed through anything properly resembling a control point. Maybe this was a major route? By now we were used to the distasteful stares of the guards, thinking nothing of their attention until once more we were shepherded off to the side and instructed to park next to another vehicle. Beside the other car stood two worried looking men, roughly the same age as us. Inside the front of their car several customs guys were busy pulling the centre console apart. Wires and plastic were going everywhere.
It was probably for the best that we hadn't stopped to clean out the car yet. Siologen was summoned to the back of the car and told to open the boot. A couple of minutes routing around and a few questions were enough to convince the guards that we were either telling the truth or were just too damn disorganised to ever pull off drug smuggling. Whichever it was, they let us go. I nodded sympathetically to the two lads, and then we were gone.
The last stop before Lille International was a huge Carrefour supermarket on the outskirts of the city. Having parked up we disappeared inside the huge store in search of supplies - in particular soap, water and binbags. Now we could begin the clean-up operation in earnest, opening the doors to allow air in and collecting approximately four black bags of rubbish from inside.
This done it was time to have a brief clean of ourselves, notably our feet which had suffered. Astute readers will remember siologen describing us as having an approximation of trenchfoot all the way back in part 4, and things hadn't really improved much since then. At some point a family walked past and siologen is adamant that the little girl burst into tears because of the smell, but then again it might've just been down to the sight of it all. Just look at it.
The friendly man at the car hire desk happily took the keys back and said he'd be in touch if there was a problem. Indeed a week or so later there was a letter for some additional 40 Euro charge which I paid without even bothering to investigate. If the little car had been able to talk or had simply been fitted with a tracker, then there'd probably have been quite a few questions to answer. Instead we boarded the Eurostar and collapsed into our seats in silence. For once neither of us had anything to say.
The London to Latvia roll of thanks extends to the following people: siologen for being top class company and for doing probably more than his fair share of the driving, DLB for the urban adventures the night before I left England, and the route wouldn't have been quite as interesting without help from slyv, ds, Pierre, Benkar and AC. Even now after various other trips on a similar theme, this one stands out as a favourite. If you haven't ever thrown a load of stuff in the back of a car and gone off on a long adventure like this, then I highly recommend you do so. It's liberating, exciting and challenging, and you just never know how it's going to turn out.
This article is the final part of a eight part series entitled 'London to Latvia (and everything in between)'. You can read the previous part here.
