The Bomb Shelter Tunnel

 

(Disclaimer: Joking aside, I fully understand the risks/dangers involved in these adventures and do so in the full knowledge of what could happen. I don't encourage or condone and I accept no responsibility for anyone else following in my footsteps. Under UK law, trespass without force is a civil offence. I never break into a place, I never photograph a place that is currently occupied, as this would be morally wrong and intrusive, I never take any items and I never cause any damage, as such no criminal offences have been committed in the making of this blog. I will not disclose location.  I leave the building as I find it and only enter to take photographs for my own pleasure and to document the building.  

 

It seems that many, many towns in the UK have rumours of tunnels underneath the streets. Most often, it's a case of someones friends friends friend hearing their friend say something about a tunnel to their friend, but it's mostly just unprovable gossip and the stuff of speculation. Sometimes, however, there's more concrete evidence, like this suspiciously gated off hole with "Welcome to Hell" written above it in big friendly letters. Some of the fence railings have been bent, making a small opening. Can I fit through that? Damn right I can! 

The question is, should I? Umm... nope. But I'm going to anyway! 

 

But can we first appreciate how awesome it looks? As far as underground tunnels go, this is by far one of the prettiest. Let's slip inside!

 

As you can probably tell, it was originally a railway tunnel, and while it's not clear here, what with all the dirt that's been dumped on the ground, further in it's still possible to see the horizontal indentations  where the tracks had once been. What drew me here was a story that my sometimes-accomplice Jess had told me. Waaaay back when I checked out my first abandoned railway tunnel with her, she informed me that it was actually her second, and that the one she'd visited had been converted into a bomb shelter during World War 2. This naturally intrigued me, because the majority of abandoned railway infrastructure owes its abandonment to the Beeching Cuts of the 1960s. For one to be repurposed for the war, it would have to have been disused for much longer. It's not every day one finds a bomb shelter in a railway tunnel either. I absolutely needed to find it!

 

The tunnel is completely closed off at one end, with no surface evidence that it was ever there. The remaining end is bricked up, with the exception of the grate that I slipped in through, and the openings higher up in the brickwork for the bats that supposedly live here.

The tunnel itself probably didn't need to exist. It was built in a time when railways were new, and some change-resistant people were a bit wary. The proposition of a line and a station in this particular town was met with some opposition, out of concerns that it would be noisy, smoky, and plague their town with strangers from the towns to the south. Consequentially this line was designed to be as discreet as possible, resulting in much of it being in this 400 yard tunnel, where nobody could see it. It came out at a small wooden station on the outskirts of town. The line and the station opened in 1848, and contrary to what everyone expected, they were a success.

 

It was all financed by George Hudson, a politician known as The Railway King for his contribution to the UKs railways, most famously linking London to Edinburgh. But his success was built on dubious financial practices and eventually there was an investigation into his shady ways. This should come as no surprise. He might be instrumental in a massive progressive industrial leap, but we should have guessed things would get dodgy the moment we saw the word "politician."

Long story short, Hudson was exposed in 1849, and he went bankrupt. Up until 1870, it was possible to go to jail for debt, so he fled the country.

 

The lines he was financing, including this one, ceased any further expansion.

 

 

I wonder how long this trolley has been here.

 

 

There are some pretty impressive stalactites hanging from the ceiling. Someday they might reach closer to the ground, and may even form little pillars.

 

 

So, from what I can tell, the original station was on the outskirts of town, given that its construction was met with a few grumbles, but as the attitude towards railways softened it was eventually decided to open a second station in the town itself. The more central one was welcomed and easier for the townsfolk to get to. However the two stations didn't line up, causing the line to fork right before it reached the town, in order to reach both of them. The more central station, being further east, was ultimately the line best able to link up with some of the more northern towns as the line expanded that way. This line, forking off to the west, fell out of use, clinging to life briefly for goods traffic before closing altogether in 1862. It was by far one of the shortest lifespans of the thriving industry. 

Today there's no trace of the western portal of this tunnel, or the station it once led to, and they don't even show up on maps from 1893, so it certainly seems that with the lines closure, people were pretty swift in abolishing all trace of it. But nevertheless, it's a testament to the engineering and construction of the era that the tunnel is still intact despite the line closing over 150 years ago. The Victorians sure built their stuff to last.

The tunnel continued existing, totally forgotten by the townsfolk. That is, until World War 2.

 

 

Here at the end of the tunnel, I finally came across the entrance to the air raid shelter.

 

 

World War Two was the first war to actually reach beyond the frontline and target civilians in their homes, and as such air raid shelters were constructed all over the place. This town already had the tunnel, so it was easy to just build a stairway down into it. The brickwork along the sides of the room would have once supported benches, and in each of the corners are the remains of old toilet cubicles. 

It's stuff like this that really drives home the reality of the war. We can read about it all we want, but actually being here, knowing that the population of a town once huddled together here, unsure if their home or businesses would even be standing when they were allowed back to the surface, really makes this place quite haunting.

It doesn't require clickbait, although I'm sure some content creators would come here and write "haunted" in the title. It's unnecessary though. The history alone is eerie enough. 

Incidentally the town was only bombed once, in 1941, and it's said that the German pilot was actually lost and had bombed the wrong town. Eventually, even with the war still on, it was decided that this massive shelter wasn't needed, and it was sealed up in 1943, once again being forgotten.

 

 

 

Well, obviously it's not totally forgotten. People have clearly been coming down here. There's graffiti here from the 1970s right up until today. It's not a secret anymore. But from what I understand it was the stuff of rumours for a long, long time. Some road alterations in the 1960s accidentally uncovered the old entrance briefly, and those workers were said to have been completely blown away by the discovery. It's also said that the MOD had plans for it in 1954, but they never actually did anything.

 

Here are the remains of a walled toilet cubicle. 

It's still in better condition than the toilets in some pubs and clubs.

 

And at the far doorway, "Welcome to Hell" is repeated. It seems to be quite an odd place for this particular graffiti. It made sense over the entrance, but this is the way out. Or at least, it was.

 

 

This stairway was the original entrance. It was down here that the townsfolk who come when they heard the air raid sirens. The stairs would have been installed in the 1940s, but the blocked up railway tunnel can still be seen next to it.

 

 

At the top we have... erectile dysfunction. And a sharp corner to the right.

 

This would have once led to the surface, but it's been blocked up. It looks like there's another left turning up ahead which presumably has stairs leading upwards. It would be interesting to remove the rubble and uncover those stairs, but even then there would still be a dead end, because above us is the street. Up above, people are going about their day to day lives, unaware that right beneath their feet is the entrance to something that once held so much importance.

That's all I got for this spot. I didn't see any bats down here, but given that they are said to roost here, I highly doubt the tunnel will be destroyed any time soon. In all likelihood, the most that will happen is the hole I squeezed in through will get grated off, and then reopened, in the constant eternal struggle between the powers-that-be and kids looking for adventure.

If you know where this place is, or are planning on researching where it is, then I recommend not going alone, and also bringing a torch. There's no light or signal down here and it could be dangerous. If you're new to urbex then this is perfect for beginners since it's not at all challenging, but keep in mind when you bring company to any place that's a squeeze to get into- your group is only as thin as your biggest member.

My next blog will be about a rather spectacular ruined mansion, and then my first ever abandoned hospital. In the meantime, you can follow my social media. I'm on Facebook, albeit reluctantly, Twitter, Instagram, Reddit, Vero and the new Myspace clone that some kid in Germany made. If you follow me on any one of those, you might not miss my blogs. You gotta watch out with the Zuckerberg-controlled ones, because they're algorithmic hellscapes. 

 

Anyway, thanks for reading!