I was up in Kent on work with a bit of time to kill and had heard about this place so bought myself a ticket on the tour bus 
A few hours on google and Photoshop gave a location and the means of access so 2 days later @Jorwal and I were skulking around petrol station forecourts and car parks looking for something which looked out of place.. It wasn't long before we were staring through darkness at the top of a staircase.
A couple of days and we're back again, the roads are quieter and we are ready for the rather brazen entry route - within a few seconds we're surrounded by a silence in contrast with the town above us.
Built just before WW2 as a bomb shelter for the former Royal Marines barracks the refuge is on two levels connected by rotten stairways. Each step down is a leap of faith, dodging the fallen planks with a white knuckled grip on the rusty handrail.
Below ground is stunning, the lack of graffiti, the contrast of pastel yellow against zinc blue and the hanging ventilation pipes make this place so photogenic - almost everywhere you look there are signs of its previous use - packets of woodbines, scrawled writing from the war, wooden packing crates and the remains of coms equipment.
Whilst the shelter is untouched by chavs the damp has taken its toll and everything wooden is rotting away - In a few years this will be an empty shell.
A few hours on google and Photoshop gave a location and the means of access so 2 days later @Jorwal and I were skulking around petrol station forecourts and car parks looking for something which looked out of place.. It wasn't long before we were staring through darkness at the top of a staircase.
A couple of days and we're back again, the roads are quieter and we are ready for the rather brazen entry route - within a few seconds we're surrounded by a silence in contrast with the town above us.
Built just before WW2 as a bomb shelter for the former Royal Marines barracks the refuge is on two levels connected by rotten stairways. Each step down is a leap of faith, dodging the fallen planks with a white knuckled grip on the rusty handrail.
Below ground is stunning, the lack of graffiti, the contrast of pastel yellow against zinc blue and the hanging ventilation pipes make this place so photogenic - almost everywhere you look there are signs of its previous use - packets of woodbines, scrawled writing from the war, wooden packing crates and the remains of coms equipment.
Whilst the shelter is untouched by chavs the damp has taken its toll and everything wooden is rotting away - In a few years this will be an empty shell.
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