Stories tagged with abandoned
/ Latvia, Estonia
Plans to stay in Riga had been ditched in favour of putting in a few hundred miles overnight. The Estonian leg was a long one and the only way to get round it all in time to make flights home was to keep going. I don't think there was total agreement in the car about this option, but it was the one chosen nonetheless.
ith the sun going down at the end of our second full day we rolled into Ventspils on the western coast of Latvia. Our encampment for the night would be amongst the smashed remains of gun emplacements, block-houses and bunkers. There's something very satisfying about finding a good spot to bivvy down.
/ Latvia, Lithuania
Never let siologen choose your accomodation. What he'll probably do is arrive at the hostel, settle himself into a 6-bed dorm with 5 teenage girls before welcoming you into your room by shoving the door open. The Asian girl inside will almost definitely fly off the handle and proceed to go nuts about the lack of manners.
/ Hungary, Slovakia, Austria
/ Romania, Hungary
/ Bulgaria, Romania
Disbanding as we did with bags and cameras only seemed to enthrall the residents even more. By now they looked bemused about the whole thing but made no effort to stop us. They re-appeared en force, one presenting us with a mobile phone. Siologen put the phone to his ear to be met with the expected question.
/ Croatia, Bosnia, Serbia, Bulgaria
Bosnia. If you're old enough to remember the news coverage then the very name is enough to conjure up images of burning buildings and cars, weathered soldiers, UN vehicles and refugees. Indiscreet in our red Seat we passed through the border controls with no issue and continued our course towards Sarajevo.
/ Hungary, Austria, Croatia
Five minutes later an attendant arrived and showed us out to the carpark where a gleaming red Seat was waiting. I'm sure the car cowered away as siologen dumped his trademark blue rucksack into the boot, but it was too bad - bitch was ours now. Forty minutes later blue flashing lights appeared in the rearview mirror...
And there they were, indeed looking dark (at least the windows were) and satanic. Neither myself nor DLB were, however, among them. We were instead being summoned towards a pick-up truck, the driver of which had spotted us as we scampered from one bush to another. For us, the war was over. For the second time.
/ Sweden, Denmark
One dull clunk produced no results, as did the second. The third produced more fascinating results: the fans sparked into life, enveloping me in a cloud of rust. At this point, annoyed and covered in dust, I descended the ladder and barked at siologen to stop messing about. And then he threw the fourth lever...
/ Lithuania, Latvia
As we moved through the place we found some recognisable buildings: a vehicle garage (empty), a sports hall with various murals on the walls and in one corner an oily looking substation building was literally wrapped in barbed wire and wooden shuttering. One can only imagine just how nasty it was in there.
The first night in the car produced two stiff necks and a bemused stare from an elderly lady hobbling past the car. The windows were misted up and siologen lolled to one side in a grey sleeping bag that generally made him resemble a vast slug. I climbed out of the car, had a stretch and grinned at the old bag.
Many had been there to explore the various floors and loading bays; many had taken photos. Eric though had other ideas for the Red Hook grain terminal, voiced with intermittent laughter as he threw various rope equipment onto his apartment floor. Crucially there was a 200ft rope, a harness, some slings and then ascenders.
Standing forlorn on the Toronto Harbourfront, the old Canada Malting silos were no strangers to intruders. For the several decades after they fell into disuse countless people breached the somewhat-fortified exterior. On a bright day in October 2009 a small band of us risked our necks to clamber up and into the remains of its workings.
Standing near the top of Horseshoe Falls, for the time being just another tourist, I watched the waters never-ending procession with unease. A gigantic cloud of mist and a terrifying persistent rumble completed an experience like no other I can think of, but one that would later that night be completely surpassed.
To enter Yaggy's Eagle River Power Station we had to cross some exposed wasteland watched-over by a man in a portacabin. Once inside all of us relaxed and toured this mighty ruin. Water ingress has hastened it's destruction, with the beautiful roof above the turbine hall on par with those at the grandest of railway stations
Feigning compliance we followed the man as he gesticulated towards the hut, positioning himself beside the open door and pointing inside. What, in there? Knowing reefdog would agree without question (it was hardly a difficult decision to make) I countered the guard's offer by indicating the gates and murmuring an idea in English.
Despite an assumed 14 years of neglect, the place didn't seem to be doing too badly. The ward blocks looked sinister: barred windows and little observation slots in the doors. Ultimately we gained entry to both floors of both blocks, but that first time was the most exciting, for we had no idea what was to be found inside.
Quite possibly involved...
4x4 aircraft aviation base bivvy boat brewery bridge bunker bust caisson catacombs cathedral church climb coal coking-plant colliery concrete construction crane culvert dam derelict desert dog drain edf electricity europe ferry german graf homeless how-to kriegsmarine laboratory memorial mersey metro mill mine mountain mountaineering narrow-gauge navy police power-station prison quarry railway rappel rooftop sea ship skyscraper slate snow span sprague squat srt stadium steel steel-arch storm-relief submarine subway tailrace tower train tram travel trouble tube u-boat ussr utility-tunnel via-ferrata winter world-war-2 wreck ww2