I have an obsession with Battersea. This obscenely big brick-piled monster first sucked me in 43 months ago, having been teased by countless tales and photos from other people. I needed this.
I first visited with Bubblehead and God, which saw us get absolutely no where in the 4 hours we spent hiding and skulking around the station. Frustration soon takes over, knowing you're so close to being within arms reach of gold.
The ever changing herras boundary and on-site security present minimal physical problem with navigating the building. Instead the omnipresent confrontations with potential high falls from girders, or through swiss cheese-like holes in the floor create an errie fear-filled mental state. You have to be gentle.
Fast forward those 3 years and once again I find myself perched on the edge of no mans land. Every sound and change in light coming from the brick abyss spurring a reaction on the faces of myself, GAJ and Ojay. And then it's time, a quick scurry and a little squeezing and we're standing in the pitch black innards of this beast.
Up and up we head, twisting ourselves through the mass of concrete and popping up at our first destination. A cautious breath and we turn the corner, our heavily defused torchlight reflecting back off a large metal object.
We find a switch, CLUNK
Nervous that our lightswitch affair had made our presence known to the hi-vis wonderers we hastily descended back down to ground level, waiting to see what the night would bring.
The B side of the station is a completely different world from A side. A bit less reminiscent of a scene from the Running Man and a bit more Demolition Man.
There's more evidence of it's previous glory. It's cleaner, it's lit, it's newer.
Quickly snaking our way around the maze of stairwells we come to the realisation that dawn is not far away. And with it the awakening of this monster, with us in the lion's den.
Time is rapidly slipping away but we continue to search up and down the stairs, looking for the next slice of cake. We know the corridor we want, but the enchanted soul of the building hides it from us.
And we continue. This time I look out across the riverfront side of the power station, the smog haze creating a blurry bubble around us. Pom descends into no mans land as Ojay checks the coast across the exhibition area.
This time we know where we're going. An air of confidence hangs around us, caught up and contained within the bubble of haze that follows us. The brick guardian spirit is seemingly on our side.
Up and up and up we head. Barely stopping to poke our heads through doorways on the ascent, knowing each step takes us closer to our final destination.
There she blows, a once timid vessel of intimidation ejecting tales of sorrow, joy and history across the Thames into the city. Allowing us to have our moment whilst the city sleeps.
I first visited with Bubblehead and God, which saw us get absolutely no where in the 4 hours we spent hiding and skulking around the station. Frustration soon takes over, knowing you're so close to being within arms reach of gold.
The ever changing herras boundary and on-site security present minimal physical problem with navigating the building. Instead the omnipresent confrontations with potential high falls from girders, or through swiss cheese-like holes in the floor create an errie fear-filled mental state. You have to be gentle.
Fast forward those 3 years and once again I find myself perched on the edge of no mans land. Every sound and change in light coming from the brick abyss spurring a reaction on the faces of myself, GAJ and Ojay. And then it's time, a quick scurry and a little squeezing and we're standing in the pitch black innards of this beast.
Up and up we head, twisting ourselves through the mass of concrete and popping up at our first destination. A cautious breath and we turn the corner, our heavily defused torchlight reflecting back off a large metal object.
We find a switch, CLUNK
Nervous that our lightswitch affair had made our presence known to the hi-vis wonderers we hastily descended back down to ground level, waiting to see what the night would bring.
The B side of the station is a completely different world from A side. A bit less reminiscent of a scene from the Running Man and a bit more Demolition Man.
There's more evidence of it's previous glory. It's cleaner, it's lit, it's newer.
Quickly snaking our way around the maze of stairwells we come to the realisation that dawn is not far away. And with it the awakening of this monster, with us in the lion's den.
Time is rapidly slipping away but we continue to search up and down the stairs, looking for the next slice of cake. We know the corridor we want, but the enchanted soul of the building hides it from us.
And we continue. This time I look out across the riverfront side of the power station, the smog haze creating a blurry bubble around us. Pom descends into no mans land as Ojay checks the coast across the exhibition area.
This time we know where we're going. An air of confidence hangs around us, caught up and contained within the bubble of haze that follows us. The brick guardian spirit is seemingly on our side.
Up and up and up we head. Barely stopping to poke our heads through doorways on the ascent, knowing each step takes us closer to our final destination.
There she blows, a once timid vessel of intimidation ejecting tales of sorrow, joy and history across the Thames into the city. Allowing us to have our moment whilst the city sleeps.
