OK, actually, no cash, just a gigantic underground cemetery, with bodies and ghosts and steam locomotives and shit.
Actually, none of these. Just a lot of crawling and squeezing and hacking up rust dust for days on end, and everything reeking like lamp fuel, and getting copious amounts of slimy wet crap down the back of my shirt, but boy, I'm glad there's no rats in here. Or poo. Hi, Ojay, this is not for you.
After a lot of hiking through sweaty forests and bumblefucking around rocky terrain and generally otherwise doing the exact polar opposite of what normal people would consider "convenient" to get to this series of bunkers and cisterns, we had the privilege of cramming ourselves through a bunch of really far-too-narrow and inconvenient entrances. The Derpkohle Tour Boys had a small taste of it in Duisburg, and I think that kind of put the gang off any more adventures, leaving the rest to my associate D. and myself.
First started in the late 19th century by curious German factory workers hearing stories of the gold and diamond bonanzas taking place in far-flung lands like Alaska and South America, the pits we entered were the result of some clever soul deciding "hey, they're digging in dirt and finding shiny stuff, we have dirt, we should dig in it too!" The idea was good, but the execution flaws. That is, until some bunch of Englishers started dumping large explodey things on German cities in large quantities, at which point it started looking like a really good idea to maybe keep digging some more, and not to stop.
And dig they did, carving out vast palatial underground fantasyland complexes, full of insanely hot women in jack boots and way-too-short uniform skirts with insatiable appetites, lounging about seductively in chandelier-lit rooms full of plush sofas and champagne.
We did not visit these. Instead, here's an old water collection cistern, an unfinished hospital bunker, and an armor piercing munitions (or was it armor piercing munitions resistant armor) testing facility, full of slime and dust and goo. We'll keep you posted on our search for the third reich pornbunkers, though.
And yes, I was having way too much fun with my flashlight.
More, as always, at kosmograd dot net.
Actually, none of these. Just a lot of crawling and squeezing and hacking up rust dust for days on end, and everything reeking like lamp fuel, and getting copious amounts of slimy wet crap down the back of my shirt, but boy, I'm glad there's no rats in here. Or poo. Hi, Ojay, this is not for you.
After a lot of hiking through sweaty forests and bumblefucking around rocky terrain and generally otherwise doing the exact polar opposite of what normal people would consider "convenient" to get to this series of bunkers and cisterns, we had the privilege of cramming ourselves through a bunch of really far-too-narrow and inconvenient entrances. The Derpkohle Tour Boys had a small taste of it in Duisburg, and I think that kind of put the gang off any more adventures, leaving the rest to my associate D. and myself.
First started in the late 19th century by curious German factory workers hearing stories of the gold and diamond bonanzas taking place in far-flung lands like Alaska and South America, the pits we entered were the result of some clever soul deciding "hey, they're digging in dirt and finding shiny stuff, we have dirt, we should dig in it too!" The idea was good, but the execution flaws. That is, until some bunch of Englishers started dumping large explodey things on German cities in large quantities, at which point it started looking like a really good idea to maybe keep digging some more, and not to stop.
And dig they did, carving out vast palatial underground fantasyland complexes, full of insanely hot women in jack boots and way-too-short uniform skirts with insatiable appetites, lounging about seductively in chandelier-lit rooms full of plush sofas and champagne.
We did not visit these. Instead, here's an old water collection cistern, an unfinished hospital bunker, and an armor piercing munitions (or was it armor piercing munitions resistant armor) testing facility, full of slime and dust and goo. We'll keep you posted on our search for the third reich pornbunkers, though.
And yes, I was having way too much fun with my flashlight.
More, as always, at kosmograd dot net.
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