04:44 - Sunday morning
I’m fast asleep in my warm bed. Mrs UrbanX is snuggled up to me on one side, and my I’m sharing my pillow with my Persian cat. I’m as comfortable as a foetus floating in amniotic fluid.
04:45 – Sunday Morning.
My phone alarm goes off really, really loudly. You know the annoying submarine warning sound on the iphone?
The cat jumps off the bed, Mrs UrbanX moans, and I slowly get out of my warm bed. It’s freezing. I look out the window and it’s pitch black, except for the glow of the street lamp, and the orange sparkle it’s creating on the layer of ice covering my car. I look at my phone again and it tells me two things:
One – It’s minus three out.
Two – It’s 117 Miles to Coalville near Leicester...
...Where there is a building which may or may not be accessible, and may or may not have already been demolished.
I scrape the ice off my car, and try and drink the can of Relentless which I left in the car, which is now a slush puppy, and head off into the darkness. Half way, I found Priority7, Alex76, and Chris34 feeling inadequate I didn’t have a number in my name, P7 offered to take up the driving.
A month ago I visited a hosiery manufacturer ‘Corah’ (Report here: www.urbanxphotography.co.uk/corah ) and so when we found out that the factory which supplied it’s needles was due to be demolished, we headed straight over there. IT was a close call too. The Demolition team were on site – Including a security hut which forced us to change our access plan. We were there before sunrise and noise travelled. We could hear his heater coming on and off, meaning he could probably hear every crunch of broken glass under explorers boot. This would have to be a quiet one.
Walking around I felt it such a shame to see the place still had so many artefacts. Not only that of it’s industrial past: Receipts, needles, tools, etc. but also reminders of it’s staff.
A pair of ladies shoes, personal pictures, and note’s of goodbye scribbled on whiteboards. Demolition had started and none of this will be preserved, except through our photographs.
While we were inside it began to snow heavily, something which I’d never experienced in a derelict building before, ad definitely not before sunrise. I entered an room where the roof had been removed and realised it was snowing inside. It was ethereal and beautiful watching the snowflakes slowly float in, coloured pink by the sunrise.
http://Www.YouTu.be/uS94tMn3Bfw
Thanks for looking.
I’m fast asleep in my warm bed. Mrs UrbanX is snuggled up to me on one side, and my I’m sharing my pillow with my Persian cat. I’m as comfortable as a foetus floating in amniotic fluid.
04:45 – Sunday Morning.
My phone alarm goes off really, really loudly. You know the annoying submarine warning sound on the iphone?
The cat jumps off the bed, Mrs UrbanX moans, and I slowly get out of my warm bed. It’s freezing. I look out the window and it’s pitch black, except for the glow of the street lamp, and the orange sparkle it’s creating on the layer of ice covering my car. I look at my phone again and it tells me two things:
One – It’s minus three out.
Two – It’s 117 Miles to Coalville near Leicester...
...Where there is a building which may or may not be accessible, and may or may not have already been demolished.
I scrape the ice off my car, and try and drink the can of Relentless which I left in the car, which is now a slush puppy, and head off into the darkness. Half way, I found Priority7, Alex76, and Chris34 feeling inadequate I didn’t have a number in my name, P7 offered to take up the driving.
A month ago I visited a hosiery manufacturer ‘Corah’ (Report here: www.urbanxphotography.co.uk/corah ) and so when we found out that the factory which supplied it’s needles was due to be demolished, we headed straight over there. IT was a close call too. The Demolition team were on site – Including a security hut which forced us to change our access plan. We were there before sunrise and noise travelled. We could hear his heater coming on and off, meaning he could probably hear every crunch of broken glass under explorers boot. This would have to be a quiet one.
Walking around I felt it such a shame to see the place still had so many artefacts. Not only that of it’s industrial past: Receipts, needles, tools, etc. but also reminders of it’s staff.
A pair of ladies shoes, personal pictures, and note’s of goodbye scribbled on whiteboards. Demolition had started and none of this will be preserved, except through our photographs.
While we were inside it began to snow heavily, something which I’d never experienced in a derelict building before, ad definitely not before sunrise. I entered an room where the roof had been removed and realised it was snowing inside. It was ethereal and beautiful watching the snowflakes slowly float in, coloured pink by the sunrise.
http://Www.YouTu.be/uS94tMn3Bfw
Thanks for looking.
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