Over and Under

The City of Bristol’s success as a place of trade has has always been linked with its close proximity to the sea. It was once a thriving port, relying on its waterways for transport of goods and people. It is a city built around and sometimes over its waterways.

The old Port of Bristol Authority building was once located on the banks of the Avon, but has since been relocated to the Severn Estuary at the mouth of the River Avon. Much of the dockside in Bristol has since been regenerated, and is now a centre for heritage and culture, beit the Banksy Street art or the Industrial museum, anything to the draw the tourists and investors in.

And it works. Floating restaurants and expensive yachts line the banks of the riverside mills. Some derelict and some converted into residential and commercial properties.

Our journey took us from the Bristol Marina, under the Redcliff and Bristol bridges. A small tributary entices us from the course of the Avon, to rivers below the unsuspecting city above. 

Castle moat lines part of the old Bristol Castle, demolished in 1656. This waterway survived a lot longer, eventually being covered over in 1847.

Now a beautiful stone culvert flowing under Castle Park it is dammed at its Junction with the River Frome, to stop the river overflowing.

Following the Frome upstream, we find ourselves in an arched, brick-built chamber. The supports of old bridges can be seen in the brickwork, as traffic thunders above us, pounding the lids of manhole covers as they go. Various side pipes meander from the main flow, and warrant further exploration in the future. 

This section of the Frome used to be prone to flooding, before the construction of the Northern Stormwater Intercepter. The culvert is a knee high wade down to the St Judes area, where the river opens out again.

This is only a brief foray into Bristol’s watery underbelly. Theres always more to uncover, so expect some more in the not too distant future…

I’d never really liked Tower 42 compared to the likes of The Gherkin and Heron, and  although similar in design, The King’s Reach Tower is a shorter and rather drab affair in comparison.

It is sited in a prime position on the south bank riverside, its 31 floors towering over the OXO tower it seems to be central to the more notable London landmarks.

^ St. Pauls Cathedral - Suffocated by London’s Low rises

Take advantage of this panoramic vantage point, and you will soon spot conquests from the past, and some from the future no doubt.

KRT was a sketchy affair to say the least. Rumours that you need a key, that the building is partially in use and that ghosts ride the elevators all proved to be unfounded.

It would seem however, that KRT was a graffers heaven, the perfect party venue or just somewhere to watch the world go by. Definitely fun while it lasted!

I was shocked by the sheer volume of walkers trekking up the road towards pen-y-pass, a starting point for the majority of tourists attempting the summit of Snowdon. Its 11am, the car park was full hours ago and we end up parking 2 miles downhill. We take a detour down a valley, and end up paying for it. My legs ache and we have not even started the walk up Snowdon yet.

We soon pick up the renowned Pyg track from the car park. The weather is good, overcast but dry at least. Pyg is a simple, navigable path which begins crossing a wide valley before gradually climbing in altitude. We follow the path as it winds below the Crib Goch ridge with Llyn Llydaw to the east.

The summit of Snowdon is clearly visible to us by now, over the lakes of Llyn Lydaw and Glaslyn.

We stop to take on water with the notorious knife-edge ridge of Crib Goch over our heads, the start of the Snowdon Horseshoe. The narrow ridge 923 metres above sea level cuts a jagged line through blue skies. 

We soon take a detour up a grassy ridge rejoining the path to Crib Goch. Well trodden at first, it soon reaches the rocky slopes of the east ridge. Looking back

We’re gonna need both hands free, scrambling over the ravenous face slowly climbing in altitude, the going is straightforward to begin with. We’re soon passing others, making smalltalk, queuing to ascend and overtaking using alternative routes over the rock. The gradient increases steadily, we pass flat platforms in the rock for breaks, and soon are faced with almost vertical rockfaces. Smooth and polished from the many pairs of boots that have passed before. The sun is out, very good dry conditions and these flat faces provide suitable challenges to overcome. Find slots in the rock, footholds, clamber over the edge and every time you’re that little bit closer. The sun is shining, you’re head is in the clouds, what more could you want. Exploring in its purest form. 

Once the steeper ridges of Crib Goch is traversed, we are soon faced with the sharp knife edge which cuts across the peak. The Path is now a lot narrower, no longer a motorway and the exposure stakes have been raised dramatically. There was now an unspoken rule amongst us. Turn left and slide, or turn right and fly a long, long way. I opted for neither of these. Walking along the east side, and using the ridge as a handhold,  I started to grip a lot more loose rocks than there were in the first part of Crib Goch.  These are not the kind of rocks you trust your life with. Double checking as I go, we near the end of this knife edge. Its not for vertigo sufferers or those without a head for heights, that’s a given. But Ive never been adverse to either, the views are staggeringly good and I am loving every second of it.

We soon pass the rock pinnacles, and make a descent before Crib Y Ddsgal towards the Glaslyn lake, via a more grassy slope with the view of rejoining the Pyg Track for the final steep push to the summit from Llyn Glaslyn.  We pass a small group who have come to a standstill before an obstacle, retreating to allow us to pick a route over this vertical piece of rock.  Confidence in ability is key here. Find a route to traverse, don’t get cragfest, make sure you can retrace your steps if you had to.

We rejoin the Pyg track as it takes a steep zig zag hugging snowdon, finally reaching the Llanberis path and the mountain railway, with only a couple of hundred metres or so to the summit.

Its normal for the path to be busy with tourists, families and groups doing walks for charity on a day with good weather. Finally we’re 1085 metres above sea level. The wind has whipped up into stronger gusts, but we are presented with the most spectacular panoramic views of Snowdonia and towards the Irish Sea.

Stopping for a short break, we are soon back on our feet negotiating the steep zigzag back down towards the Miners track. 

We thought the descent would be less strenuous than the ascent, but time and care must be taken, as the path is very steep in places, with substantial slopes enough to cause serious injury from a fall. The walk back to Pen-y-Pas was a peaceful affair. With some golden, late afternoon sunshine we walked at a lesuirely place, stopping at Glaslyn to skip stones, take some photographs, watch the sheep and reflect on the past few hours. 

Before the weekend, I’d never climbed a mountain, or visited a national park full of them. Yet I couldn’t help but glance up at the notorious Crib Goch. To think of the people who had passed before us, and that we were on the very top only a few hours ago.

It only occurred to me arriving home from Snowdon, of the people who didn’t make it. It didn’t occur to me 923 metres up, stood on a ridge with sheer drops either side. I knew the potential for Danger was present, but I was comfortable with the challenge, and so high on adrenaline that I thoroughly enjoyed the whole experience. That said the ridge should not be taken lightly in any instance though. It has seen many fatal falls from its peak and record numbers of rescues of injured climbers.

Sat in an estuary in the South of England lies a sorry-looking piece of Soviet history. The U475  aka Black widow is a former Russian Foxtrot Killer Submarine. It has been out of service nearly two decades and is slumped in an irreparable state of neglect. It has a gaping hole in one of its ballast tanks, lists dangerously to one side, and so theres only one thing to do right?

Its been sat in this state for a few years now, and a few people had cracked it during this time, which brought it to our attention. One call to Speed and a plan was hatched. He had the boat, we had the skills(?), and before we knew it we were on our way to row to an abandoned submarine on the coldest december night you can imagine. 

Three men in a slight deflated rubber-dinghy. What more could you possibly want!? With our proud vessel ready to hit the water, we consulted (had a cup of tea) and decided that three in a boat would be pushing our luck. Speed would ferry dan over first, and come back and pick me up afterwards. Hiccup Number one: The mud. Thick as you like and sinking. You had to step lightly, hop in the boat as quickly as possible before it started to consume your feet.

After 10-15 minutes dan had embarked, and speed was heading back to shore. Well kinda. Hiccup Number two: The current. I probably watched the vessel drift in the opposite direction five or six times. But sooner or later, it succumbed to speeds marvellous rowing capabilities and i was soon on the water, ready to board the black widow.

Mooring at the stern, we found some convieniently-placed footholes with which to secure the vessel and clamber aboard. Then walk the 50 or so foot to the conning tower, jump up and were in! I didn’t quite picture it like this at the time and i know why. It was more like straddling a 50ft long roller, which was slippery as funk. One slip and you’re in the drink. Luckily this part passed without incident. We were soon standing on our feet ready to climb the tower, but not before a few divebombing attacks from some pyscho pigeons. More about that later.

The Sub lists precariously to its starboard side and there is the next part of this nautical adventure. Climb the metal rungs of the conning tower on a 20ft overhang of the murky depths below. Nothing but cold, black water full of shopping trollies, mopeds, dead bodies etc. if you fail. Well we passed, and for our efforts, each had a welcoming party of the avian variety waiting for us when we reached the top. Scores of them, shitting on us (probably) flying at us, sitting on our heads and just generally pissed off we were invading their space.

Once we had clambered over the terrain of pigeon shit and general crap, we were climbing down the hatch, eager to see what laid below. Periscopes, engine rooms, living quarters, a galley, glow in the dark gauges, torpodoes, and decked out in the finest Soviet Hammer & Sickle livery. The Black widow was a museum before it met its current demise, and so you know it is going to be as mint as it can get. We spent a good couple of hours snapping away before making our way back to land, all passing without incident. Shout to UJ and Speed. For some exceptional eye candy check out speeds pics of the sub at http://realitytrip.wordpress.com/2010/06/09/u475/ . A few months ago the owner of the sub cottoned on to our illicit adventure, and has since opened up the sub for a couple of tours, but hey wheres the fun in that…

The 755ft stonker of a skyscraper that is Heron Tower. The main event which was earlier preceded by Nido which you can read about further down. It recently overtook One Canada Square aka Canary Wharf, as the tallest structure in London, but its time at the top of the chart is guaranteed to be short-lived…

^ Nido - How inferior this earlier conquest of the night looks now, given that i am now nearly 20 stories higher looking down on it, getting blown to buggery by the wind. Heron was by no means as straightforward as Nido, well as straightforward as hopping a fence i guess. Unfortunately, people had been visiting since the arse end of last year, raping it of all its worth, and as such eyes were watching before it had even overtaken The Gherkin. But the patience seems to pay off…

I’d heard rumours of ball cams and remote sensors, but fortunately my adequate level of ninja would suffice, and we were in and up with no hiccups. The stairs are open for the majority of the way up, so you can see the view change with every step. An anti climax of sorts, but when you get to the top, the view is unrivalled.

We wern’t exactly graced with the best of weather, and of course theres always that nasty orange glow that hangs around London like a bad smell.

Took some time to retreat to the lower floors for some cover and at the time of visiting, probably half the floors had yet to be filled with concrete as you can see above. I imagine three quarters of the floors are in the furnishing stage by now. 755ft doesnt seem like a lot, but when all that is between you and the pavement below is 755ft of thin air between, with no barrier, it hits you… And this wasn’t even at the top!

Time was getting on and we were ready to make the climb down, 4.30am and off into the pissing London rain with some aching legs. Heron has really set the benchmark for scrapers in London. Only a stones throw away is The pinnacle which slowly but surely is creeping up

And of course theres The Shard south of the river. Going up at an alarming rate, it will be the first to break the 1000ft barrier in London. By then, i’m sure Heron will be a distant memory. The appetite for altitude in London sees no sign of stopping any time soon…

The Paris Catacombs is much more than just a place. In my experience, its a lifestyle thing, a culture if you will. A Subterranean nest reaching hundreds of kilometres under the city of love. A social thing frequented by parisians of all ages home to the most macabre of cemetries, underground cinemas, raves, live bands, mass parties and pretty much anything you could think off. It even has its own dedicated police force who will try to curb your fun! Think of it as the city beneath the city. 

The actual origin of the catacombs results from the saturation of the cities cemetries at a time of growing population during the 17th and 18th century. But look at the bigger picture and the limestone mines and quarrying of paris dates back much further to around the 13th and 14th century. Catacombs is just used as a general term to describe the whole lot when infact it is only reference to a small part of the network. The Great southern network exists under the southern reaches, with smaller underground districts dotted in other parts of the city and some exceptional quarries located in parisian suburbia. 

On any given weekend you can expect the GRS to be visited by scores of parisians. My english superiors have notched up visits into double figures. My next visit will be my fourth but in a short time i have seen things i could never have expected and met the best of people. And i’ve no intention of stopping any time soon!

It can be back-breaking work at times. The terrain changes frequently. It will involve no headroom at times, a lot of crawling, stooping, wades through waist-high water. Making good ground underground can seem regimented at times, walking miles at a time and all of this whilst carrying a fair weight of provisions on your back to keep you going. But put in the work and the rewards are so worth it. Here are by no means Ten of the Best. Each has a charm and a style all of their own, but these ten would probably be a must-see if you’ve never been…

^Le cellier 

A Concrete Clad room in the GRS, it always has a bit of a cold sterile feel to it, but seems to be always an early stop in the trip. A good spacious setting for dinner, and frequented by painters and artists, so always lots to take in.

^ Carthusian Monks Fountain
 
CMF is a quaint little room, and allegedly one of the oldest, toward the north of the network. I believe it was used by the IGC to measure the water table under paris, and features a measuring gauge and several water troughs with a nice staircase and pillars. When you visit , you just know the painstaking work that has gone into creating such an ornate little room. 

^ Carrefour des Mortes : Crossroads of the Dead

Probably what the Catacombs is most well known for, and where the word itself is derived from. This is a well sized section of the GRS, where eight or so passages meet, with the most macabre of sights to be had by crawling through a whole into the centre point. But don’t be fooled because the amount of bones seen here is the tip of the iceberg, when you consider that another five or six million more were deposited into the catacombs. The novelty (or the smell) never wears off and i know i will go back because there are still parts i haven’t seen. 

^ The Grave of Philibert Aspairt 

Apologies for the shonky photograph. Aspairt is best known as the first Cataphile of the Catacombs. I won’t say explorer because i can imagine many had ventured before him, and anyway, most of the information available is sketchy at best but i’ll try to make the best of it.  Philibert was once gatekeeper of the Val De Grace Hospital, which housed a staircase which descended into the network. On the 3rd of November 1793 he went solo, allegedly to find an underground cellar of a brewery. For whatever reason, Philibert did not return, and owing to the awkward time of the French Revolution, his disappearance was not considered as unusual. 

He was not discovered for another 11 years, until 1804. The discovery is described as a skinny skeleton, gnawed by the rats. He was identifiable because of the keys to the Val De Grace Hospital which were also found. Many say that when found he was yards from an exit. I guess we will never know if that is the case. What we do know is that Aspairt was probably not the first to perish exploring this subterranean maze, and he probably wasn’t the last either.

^ La Plage

Well known and well photographed, La Plage or The Beach is a room fit for a party, with sandy floors and murals of the ocean on the wall, and probably most bizarre of all, a sorry looking Christmas tree plonked in the middle. Last i was here, it was an absolute mess with trash heaped in piles everywhere. But there is a goodchance the Ktaclean has swept by since. A dedicated collection of cataphiles, they stage nights to clear some of the underground rooms, bagging up trash and leaving it in a place for the authorities to collect. 

^ The Minerology Office 

Apologies for the shonky photograph number two! The IGC (Inspection Generale de Carrieres ) or basically the organisation set up to manage, maintain and consolidate the unused quarries of Paris would be responsible for this little wonder. This is the first of the Minerology offices i have visited beneath Paris. It is a Uniform little room with what appears to be a stone staircase set in the middle of the room. It was infact used to display samples of minerals and stone which was then quarried beneath the streets. I’d guess that a layer of turf would sit on the top step, with soil on the step below down through the minerals and different types with some form of limestone on the bottom step. I’m not entirely sure if this was purely for exhibition of the stone or for the sale of it, but i can imagine it would look grand in its day, lit with the glow of carbide.

As is the case with the catas, you will see a lot more than you want, or can be bothered to photograph. These are by no means the best rooms to visit, but most probably the most visited. There are scores of rooms, networks galleries and just an overall experience that i find hard to illustrate and put into words. None of these visits without Mr Oxygen Thief. Massive props to the great people ive been lucky enough to meet, all who make these trips go off with a bang. This is by no means the last of my ramblings from Paris, so keep your eyes peeled… Vive Le Cata!

(Pic:Urban Junky) Big up!

Visited in early January with Rigsby. Simply ticking off some boxes on the tourist list. “The Tallest Student Accomodation in the World.” Hows about that for an accolade! Consider yourself one of the lucky ones who pisses money up the wall, does sod all with your student digs atop this beast of an appartment block…

100 MSX has always been a bit of a ramp-up to 110 Bishopsgate and its not hard to see why. 34 cramp-inducing flights of stairs to prime rooftop 315ft above the City of London.

Flanked by Canary Wharf and the Business district in the East, and the Broadgate tower towards the North, Nido towers this flat part of the cityscape, and seems like a reasonably tall building…

But Clamber through the mish-mash of scaffolds and gantries to the other side of the balcony, and it is soon a different story. The Gherkin, Heron and the shy Tower 42 dominate the space towards the south and the River Thames.

Burning the midnight oil over at 103 St. Marys Axe aka The Gherkin…

The Slewed Crane…

I was informed that some of these are left to move freely, so as not collapse and fall under pressure from their own weight and high winds. The gantry can spin and move with the wind, and so avoiding potential disaster. Doesn’t sound like a bad idea!

Once the wind outside got too much, we headed down to the warm retreat of the air-conditioning and plant level. Glazed on both sides, with more views, we headed down to the lower balcony, checked some of the digs and eventually made the long way down. 

The only time your likely to go to a place like this is before the fitting for a wooden box en route to the bone yard, so when the opportunity arises, why not have a wander? 

This small mortuary is still home to some grisly details such as toe tags, viewing books for the deceased, a motion sensor system with its intermittent beeping and CCTV with the tapes still rolling. Disused, yes, but with a live feel that you would expect the porter to wheel in the next fatality at any given moment.

You’d believe that upkeep of the data protection act would be in the safe hands of one of the biggest, if not, the biggest employers in the united kingdom. But that organisation still has a problem understanding the meaning of confidentiality. Instead, it is seen fit to leave a wheelie-bin sized container full of discarded personal information, paperwork and appointment diaries. Talk about intrusion and keeping ones dignity!

3x Body Slabs, 27 x Storage Fridges - Check.

People would talk of somewhere like this as being eery, scary and a disrespecting place to be. Truth is, its not a resting place for the deceased but merely a passing place and all part of the process quite frankly. Still, its hard to imagine what it must be like turning up here every morning for work. Its probably the norm and you would simply get on with it, but i thought these porters summed it up nicely before the turned off the lights and closed the door behind them…

Nestled deep in the unsuspecting Surrey Countryside lie a series of ancient quarries boasting over 10 miles of surveyed open passages. Situated in the North Downs series of hills, they date back to tudor times with the youngest of the workings around 300 years old. But you wouldnt imagine a history stretching so far, given that a major motorwayn now passes within hundreds of yards of some of the workings, as well as numerous multi-million townhouses.

Stone quarried from this series has apparently been used in the construction of some prestigious, well known and loved buildings in the South-East. Windsor Castle, The Old London Bridge and Hampton Court Palace to name but a few. Parts of the network are very secure due to the age of the workings and for good reason.  Some sections are accessible by rope or on foot, although probably don’t have as much to offer and are heavily flooded in places, maybe oweing to a fluctuation in the water table. They still make for some atmospheric photos, i hope you’ll agree…

Although it seems a pretty stable quarry, you can’t help but notice some of the huge fault lines in the ceiling.