Exploring drains is a pretty otherworldly experience. You cruise through in utter darkness, aside from the seemingly tiny light of a hand held torch like an unwanted intruder in some old forgotten temple of worm-gods. This beautiful, creeping, Nalyssa Green song is a perfect worm-god-temple-cruising tune that makes me want to explore even as I write.
The mood is set. We head into The Accommodator.
One statement that I often get asked when queried about my clandestine hobby is ‘You’ll never know what you’ll find!’ ‘Exactly!’ Is my response. Who’d ever think I’d get to see this:
Welcome to a new and wonderful world, where you see places like sets in post-apocalyptic films, art that will never hang off a gallery wall, but puts a lot of what does to shame and the occasional giant corrugated tunnel system that carries water under the places “normal” people go about boring shit like shopping.
Cryptic messages drive me on, to see what lies about the next bend, turn or at the end of a dark, dripping hole.
Often the rewards are great.
In my previous life, before I started crawling into dank spaces for entertainment, I had always admired graffiti, the stuff that magically appears out of nowhere on rickety old trains and the sides of otherwise depressingly ugly beige infrastructure. After exploring a few creaky old buildings and holes, this admiration has turned into something akin to reverence. The time, effort and skill that it must take these unknown lads and lasses to paint a massive wall is surely something to be admired. In case you aren’t convinced, feast your photo-receptors on these wonderful pieces that we ‘discovered’ in the worm’s lair:
Pretty neat, huh?