My eyes flicked open and suddenly I was awake. It was still dark, but my eyes quickly adjusted to the faint mix of moonlight and distant street lamp glowing through the window shutters. I wasn’t sure how long I’d dropped off for, but I knew exactly where I was. I was in Chateau Lumiere, 600 miles from home, in the same bedroom I had first set foot inside 11 months ago.
I could see the specks of rain splashing against the window pane, casting mottled shadows across the bare wooden floor. For a moment I slipped back to being blissfully unaware of being awoken at all. I was warm, dry and comfortable. I felt a sense of reassuring comfort as I nuzzled my head into my camera bag which I was using as a pillow. I breathed in deeply through my nose, taking in the familiar scent of my bag and my eyelids became heavy once again.
Then I snapped back awake, and realised that the sound that had originally woken me was getting closer. There was someone coming up the stairs.
Wait. There is more than one pair of footsteps. I listened hard to the instantly recognisable rhythm of human footsteps and estimated that there are probably four people coming very slowly up the stairs. When you’re in this situation the tendency is for your mind to play tricks; turning a simple metallic click into an image of someone cocking a gun, or unsheathing a knife. But I knew this metallic click; it was one I’d heard a thousand times before. It was the click of a quick release tripod leg clamp clicking into the lock position. They were photographers.
Priority 7 stood up from the shadows of the room, I hadn’t even seen, or acknowledged the presence of the remainder of my group whilst I was waking. I knew exactly what he was doing: he was letting them know we were there, from a distance, as not to startle them. I heard faint whispers of “Bonjour” coming from the landing before P7 led them into the room where we were patiently waiting for the sun to rise.
Four more people came in and retired into the darkness on the other side of the room. The eight of us sat there in the darkness, perfectly silent. Broken only occasionally by the rustle of clothing as someone got comfortable, or the flash of an LED as a camera also relaxed to save energy. I noticed that on a couple of occasions that as a photographers eyes drew heavy and eventually sank closed, their camera would inevitably switch to power saving mode at the same time? Maybe a subconscious bond between an explorer and their gear?!
After half an hour of patient waiting they became restless and started to arrange themselves to leave. It didn’t seem any lighter at all, but we agreed that they would go up a level, and we would go down a level.
The hallway, looked mysterious and haunting still under darkness. Just the strains of moonlight coming in from the rooflight above.
Drawing room: (Lovely old Singer sewing machine has been removed since I was here last)
Up to the first floor:
I was pleased to see that the bathrooms were actually in a better condition than they were last year. Someone had even polished up the sink:
Imagine my surprise of finding a statue of UrbanX in this room:
Shoe, bathed in moonlight:
Top Floor:
Although the atrium was light to our now adjusted eyes, the bedrooms were still painfully dark. This is a full 30 sec exposure,
There is a grille between the middle floor and the top floor, which you can see here…
I always regretted not going for a walk across it last time, so I gingerly stepped out onto the thin metal mullions:
Covert followed me onto the grille, and we could feel it flex beneath our weight. He sat down to take photos looking straight down the light well.
It was definitely a different experience visiting it when it was this dark, although I still think I prefer my first set of photos: http://www.urbanxphotography.co.uk/108-chateau-lumiere
It’s going downhill, but fairly slowly: There’s a tag in the hall. And a few windows have been smashed, and repaired with polythene. There were about 5 leaks in the roof space. All of which had pots & buckets under them. They were getting quite full (it was hammering it down outside) so I dutifully went round and emptied them, and tightly shut the windows that were ajar. Hopefully she’ll get some attention before it goes completely downhill.
Cheers for reading. Video to follow
I could see the specks of rain splashing against the window pane, casting mottled shadows across the bare wooden floor. For a moment I slipped back to being blissfully unaware of being awoken at all. I was warm, dry and comfortable. I felt a sense of reassuring comfort as I nuzzled my head into my camera bag which I was using as a pillow. I breathed in deeply through my nose, taking in the familiar scent of my bag and my eyelids became heavy once again.
Then I snapped back awake, and realised that the sound that had originally woken me was getting closer. There was someone coming up the stairs.
Wait. There is more than one pair of footsteps. I listened hard to the instantly recognisable rhythm of human footsteps and estimated that there are probably four people coming very slowly up the stairs. When you’re in this situation the tendency is for your mind to play tricks; turning a simple metallic click into an image of someone cocking a gun, or unsheathing a knife. But I knew this metallic click; it was one I’d heard a thousand times before. It was the click of a quick release tripod leg clamp clicking into the lock position. They were photographers.
Priority 7 stood up from the shadows of the room, I hadn’t even seen, or acknowledged the presence of the remainder of my group whilst I was waking. I knew exactly what he was doing: he was letting them know we were there, from a distance, as not to startle them. I heard faint whispers of “Bonjour” coming from the landing before P7 led them into the room where we were patiently waiting for the sun to rise.
Four more people came in and retired into the darkness on the other side of the room. The eight of us sat there in the darkness, perfectly silent. Broken only occasionally by the rustle of clothing as someone got comfortable, or the flash of an LED as a camera also relaxed to save energy. I noticed that on a couple of occasions that as a photographers eyes drew heavy and eventually sank closed, their camera would inevitably switch to power saving mode at the same time? Maybe a subconscious bond between an explorer and their gear?!
After half an hour of patient waiting they became restless and started to arrange themselves to leave. It didn’t seem any lighter at all, but we agreed that they would go up a level, and we would go down a level.
The hallway, looked mysterious and haunting still under darkness. Just the strains of moonlight coming in from the rooflight above.
Drawing room: (Lovely old Singer sewing machine has been removed since I was here last)
Up to the first floor:
I was pleased to see that the bathrooms were actually in a better condition than they were last year. Someone had even polished up the sink:
Imagine my surprise of finding a statue of UrbanX in this room:
Shoe, bathed in moonlight:
Top Floor:
Although the atrium was light to our now adjusted eyes, the bedrooms were still painfully dark. This is a full 30 sec exposure,
There is a grille between the middle floor and the top floor, which you can see here…
I always regretted not going for a walk across it last time, so I gingerly stepped out onto the thin metal mullions:
Covert followed me onto the grille, and we could feel it flex beneath our weight. He sat down to take photos looking straight down the light well.
It was definitely a different experience visiting it when it was this dark, although I still think I prefer my first set of photos: http://www.urbanxphotography.co.uk/108-chateau-lumiere
It’s going downhill, but fairly slowly: There’s a tag in the hall. And a few windows have been smashed, and repaired with polythene. There were about 5 leaks in the roof space. All of which had pots & buckets under them. They were getting quite full (it was hammering it down outside) so I dutifully went round and emptied them, and tightly shut the windows that were ajar. Hopefully she’ll get some attention before it goes completely downhill.
Cheers for reading. Video to follow
