Cute little bunker

 

Aren't ROC bunkers great? Sure, they're samey, repetitive, tiny and probably not worth traveling out specifically for, but I have a soft spot for these little nuggets of Cold War history, and I'll often swing by one if I happen to be in the area. 

 

I've covered about thirty of these things now, so long term readers will know what they are, but for those who haven't seen one before, this is one of 1,563 identical underground facilities installed across the UK in the 1960s. The idea was to have the Royal Observer Corps (ROC) stationed down here for the purpose of monitoring nuclear activity and communicating it across a network of other ROC posts, so that the UK could react accordingly to the apocalypse that everyone thought was pretty darn imminent. 

Alas, it wasn't, and I was born anyway. Thanks for nothing, Soviet Union. 

 

Naturally with the threat of nuclear weapons, the monitoring posts were designed to be used as bunkers to be lived in for a short period if the worst was to happen. Here's a little diagram to show how they looked.

 

(Image not mine, obviously)

 

So as you can see, they are tiny. Think of your most annoying work colleague and imagine being stuck with them here for a period of time. I can honestly say, I know what I'm eating when the rations run out!

In light of recent events regarding Vladdy P, many people in the urbex groups comment "We might need these soon" literally every time someone posts a ROC bunker, and it's absolutely delusional. Seriously, half of these things were decommissioned in 1968 and the rest followed in 1991. Since then they've rotted away in fields with absolutely no maintenance while the human race has progressed technologically. A ROC bunker won't save you from a nuclear attack today. I've read conflicting accounts of their practicality even in 1963. Nevertheless, it might make for a fun camping trip and historically they do reflect the attitude of the era, that a proactive approach to the Cold War was needed, even if the powers-that-be weren't entirely sure what to do, and obviously whatever holes are in the ROC posts effectiveness aren't meant to disparage the ROC themselves, who were largely composed of civilian volunteers bravely doing their bit for the safety of their country.

 

 

Here's the shaft leading down into the ground. This particular ROC post closed in 1968, so we really weren't expecting much. Typically the longer these things have been abandoned, the worse condition they are in, what with having several additional generations of annoying kids to vandalise them. Don't listen to boomers on Facebook when they say kids back then had manners and respect. Kids are little shits no matter the era.

Additionally, many ROC bunkers have been welded shut or outright demolished by land owners.

Personally I think destroying them is short-sighted, and thankfully others seemingly agree because there are a few examples of ROC posts being restored to how they used to be, or converted into wine cellars and man caves too, and I wholeheartedly approve.

 

 

At the bottom of the ladder is a grated floor for catching rain water, and a hand pump for pumping the water out.

 

From here a doorway leads into the bunker itself. Check it out!

 

 

For a 1968 closure, this place is in pretty damn good condition. It has three beds, which is mildly terrifying in that adding an additional long pig person to these cramped living conditions during an apocalypse would absolutely increase the level of irritation. Humans are annoying. I know we're social creatures, but we also didn't evolve to be crammed in a tiny underground concrete box together for an undetermined period of time either

 

So the wall on the left would have had loads of communication equipment and various gadgets and doohickeys for monitoring nuclear activity, and just because it wasn't cramped enough down here, there would have been a couple of seats too. All of the expensive stuff would have been cleared out when the post was closed, but apparently in 1968 nobody wanted to dismantle a set of beds and lug them up a ladder in the ground, so here they are.

 

The old light switch. 

 

 

And this thing here is the toilet. And if you think living down here with an irritating work colleague sounds challenging, imagine having to lug a bucket of your combined excrement up a ladder. 

 

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

 

 

This box is pretty interesting. It's a genuine piece of ROC storage equipment left over from the 1960s, and it allegedly once contained batteries. 

 

 

The lid is over by the toilet. 

 

 

And these big chunky bastards, I think, are the batteries. How cool is this? They've been down here since 1968. 

 

 

And then, more morbidly, we have this poor little creature. At some point in the bunkers years since abandonment, a rabbit has tumbled down the hatch, or perhaps even the air vent. And since rabbits can't climb ladders or dig through concrete, it's died down here.

 

 

The air vent is above the bed, wide open.

 

So that's all I've got. ROC bunkers are tiny and scattered all over the UK, so if you do happen to live on this tiny grumpy island, you probably live within 10km of one. They're not always unlocked, and they are very rarely in good condition, but they are there for anyone wanting to have a mooch, and despite their identical design, they're all a little bit different. Like I said, they aren't worth traveling out specifically for, but it can make a good little add-on to an adventure if you happen to be in the area. 

If you do venture down into a ROC bunker then it's probably worth mentioning that the access shaft is almost always full of spiders. I've also seen a few where the ladder is coming out of the wall, so it's probably also worth telling someone where you're going, because if for some reason you end up stuck, you won't be able to call for help when you're down there. There's no signal underground. 

Nor is there any light. Bring a torch. 

So, my next blog will be a chapel, and then after that I'll be going back to my original "local" blog to annoy my locality with tales of my derring-do. In the meantime, I am on Instagram, Threads, Facebook, Vero, Reddit and sometimes Twitter, so if you like the blog and want to see updates, those are the places to go and hope that the algorithm is on your side. 

Thanks for reading!

The Underground Market

(Photo not mine, obviously)

In 1972, a big underground market opened in Manchester. It's been described as a gem of small independent stores, highly popular to those who frequented it, sort of like Affleck's but downwards. If you're scratching your head thinking "Why haven't I heard of this awesome place? I must check it out on my next Manc shopping bonanza" then I'm sorry to disappoint. It closed in 1989, when the Arndale Shopping Centre became more popular. Its entrances were paved over, putting a featureless road where the downward steps once were, and the underground parts were largely destroyed by newer construction work. It's now just a fond memory for those who used to come here.

The entrance to the underground market does still exist though, albeit under the street. On my last trip to Manchester I decided it was finally time to lift a manhole cover and check it out. But first I decided that if I was going to go around a city opening manhole covers in the middle of very public streets, then I should at least be drunk first so that if the police showed up I could just lie and say I was just being impulsive. This manhole key? I found it over there, and none of this was planned, I swear!

I ended up getting sloshed in a pretty cool rock pub near Oxford Road Station. There was an open mic night so I stayed longer than intended. Once I eventually got off my ass and went to the underground market, some homeless people clocked me, knowing exactly what I was up to because they'd seen dozens of people do it before. Luckily they were friendly and decided to help. But being drunk and dyspraxic (a hilarious combo) I accidentally dropped the manhole lid down the shaft, where it landed with a loud CLANG, followed by a series of additional clangs getting progressively smaller.

 CLANG CLANG CLANG CLANG. 

 

Shit, it's landed on stairs! I'm in the right place! And now I had the perfect excuse if the police showed up, because someone has to get that lid back before some random member of the public falls down the hole, and since I'm responsible, it's only right that it should be me, right? The homeless people grabbed a wheelie bin to park over the hole after I dropped down. And just like that I was on the old stairs to the underground market.

Isn't this amazing??? Think how many people have walked down these steps back in the day.

The broom looks comically modern, but the tiles on the walls are original 1970s features that would be familiar to anyone who came down here back in the day.

 

The remains of the handrails are still here, and some graffiti on the wall says "We found it," scrawled by others who have made the trip down into Manchester's history.

 

But what's actually down here now? Well... not a lot. The majority of the market has been blocked off and destroyed. But back in the 1970s there was about a hundred stores, and a few remnants of them still exist. 

 

A sign on the wall advertises "Factory prices."

And over here is an old store. The remnants of the title sign are still there.

Barely readable on the black horizontal strip are the words "Suede & Leather Bar," but it looks like another store had this space afterwards, because the "Ste" sign seems to be placed over it.

 

As well as the Suede & Leather Bar,  the underground market had "Stolen From Ivor," which was the first place in the north of England to stock Levis, a clothes shop named Zoeys, across from a cafe called Freddy's, and of course there was the alternative/punk store, Roxy's. 

Do all of these businesses have human names? I don't know if these were the official names, or if the owners were just so well known that people referred to the shops by their owners names. Unfortunately I only have one interior image from back then, and it's of Roxy's.

 

(Photo not mine, obviously)

 

It's blurry, and has absolutely no features that resemble what I'm photographing. I just have to take someone else's word for it that this store was down here.

 

The market was said to be a goldmine for people looking to buy records too, and also the only place in Manchester that sold skinny jeans. There were shops for jewelry, shoes, toys and also a store that printed custom T-shirts. Whatever anyone wanted, it seems the market could provide.

 

What's left of the market is pretty small, but I did notice that some of the breeze blocks at the back have been suspiciously removed. Clearly the interior of the market curved here, and more stores could potentially be found through this hole.

Scrambling through the hole, I found that the wall tiles continued, confirming that all of this had once been more of the market. Someone has tried to block it off. 

Check it out! An old fire hose reel! 

But beyond that, there's another wall of blocks. Some of these have been removed too, but it didn't seem to lead anywhere yet. But this does seem to be someones project, to slowly excavate the remains of the old market, so I'll just leave them to it and check back at a later date. 

It is weird to think that this fire hose, a remnant of the underground market, has been lost for decades behind a breeze block wall. The stairs and the remnants of Suede & Leather Bar are cool enough, but hidden only by a manhole cover. Whereas the fire hose took someone bashing a wall down to get to. It does make me wonder what else could be hidden down here.

And that's it for the underground market. It's only a small space underneath the streets of Manchester, but I just love that little glimpses into the cities history are still here to be found. I'm fairly certain most cities and towns will have things like this, just waiting for an imbecile with a manhole key to come along. I guess we never know what's beneath our feet.

As I exited the underground market, I passed the manhole lid up to the homeless people, and once I scrambled out, we put it back in place, sealing off the underground market once again. Had I not been drunk, I probably wouldn't have been quite so generous, but because they'd helped me I gave them £20 each.

They better not have spent it on crack.

 

My next blog will be a rather large, photogenic nightclub, and then after that I'll be heading back to my local blog to check out a little chapel. In the meantime, if you liked this post, want to see more, and would like semi-regular updates then the most efficient way to get them would be to follow my blogs social media. I'm on Instagram, Facebook, Twitter for some reason, and Reddit. The algorithms are shite, so I can't promise you'll see anything, but give it a go!

Thanks for reading!

The tunnel of stolen cars

 

As opposed to my last couple of blogs, which talked of scandal and crime, and mild incest, this is a nice chilled one about a railway tunnel in a small town, hidden away by vegetation. It looks pretty cool now, somewhat like a fairy kingdom if all the fairies were Jeremy Kyle guests. The rails are all gone, and if it wasn't for the tunnel itself there would be barely indication the railway was ever here at all. 

It's strange to think that there was a time when all this would have been quite exciting to the locals. In the 1800s, nobody had cars, and these small rural communities were very much isolated from the rest of the world. When the whole railway thing really started to catch on, people were suddenly connected like never before. It's something we don't really think about now that transport is so widely available.

 

This tunnel was proposed in 1874, as a joint effort by the large London and North Western company, and the much smaller Merthyr and Brecon Railway, often nicknamed Murder and Breakneck Railway by the locals because every few months throughout the 1870s and 1880s somebody died in a horrific accident. 

Faced with looming competition from a larger company with a smaller body count, Murder & Breakneck decided to collaborate with London & North Western on plotting the train lines entry into the town, which resulted in boring this tunnel through a hill. The tunnel officially opened in 1879, and all of the important folks who had made it happen posed in front of the entrance for a group shot.

 (Photo not mine, obviously)

 

Allegedly the plaque above the entrance still exists, but is obscured by foliage. 

I can't help but feel sorry for these guys. Included in the shot, no doubt, is the foreman William Jenkinson, who oversaw the entire tedious process. The drills they used bored through rock at a rate of nineteen inches in ten minutes. An hours work rewarded nine feet of progress, in a tunnel that was to be a 1040 yards long. The fact that such things still stand, structurally intact, over a century later really goes to show how much skill and effort went into them. They have every reason to be proud. 

So it's kinda unfortunate that this is the way it ended up. All that hard work and fantastic engineering had a pretty pitiful legacy. The train service held three services each way on week days and four on Saturdays, but it ran a substantial loss for most of its lifetime and as such, it was among the first of many lines that closed in the latter half of the 20th Century. The last train allegedly came through here on the 28th January 1958.

 (Photo not mine, obviously)

 

This probably isn't a picture of the last train, but it is a train coming out of this exact tunnel, and that is cool.

 

(Photo not mine, obviously)

 

Likewise, so is this picture taken from a train in 1922. It doesn't quite line up with the tracks because there's actually another line splitting off from this one. 

 

There's another picture taken from the top of the tunnel entrance that shows it.

 

(Photo not mine, obviously)

I'm pretty happy that there's so many vintage photos of this place, seeing as the tracks and signal posts are all long gone.

 

 

Traversing rubble and litter to get across the swamp was pretty fun. There's a shopping trolley doing a great impression of that horse from the Neverending Story.

 

And here we have the entrance of the tunnel. Allegedly it was blocked up shortly after its closure, but that doesn't quite make sense. From what the locals say, people have used this as a shortcut for decades, with some of the older residents claiming they did so in the 1960s and 1970s, and many claiming that it should be open to the public as an official cycle path.

 

Allegedly the tunnel wall had a gap about the size of a regular door, but then people came with sledgehammers at some point in the 1990s to make the hole bigger. The council responded by blocking the new entrances with big fucking rocks, which seems like a half-assed effort, seeing as all anyone needs to get around this obstruction is a functioning set of limbs. But these rocks do serve a purpose. If they weren't there, this hole would be large enough to drive a car through, which is precisely what the folks with the sledgehammers intended.

 

The tunnel is pretty cool. I have a soft spot for railway tunnels, and I find it pretty fascinating that all this engineering and construction still holds up to this day, over a hundred years since it was built. 

 

The exact length of the tunnel is 1040 yards, although it's frequently incorrectly referred to as a mile long. At its deepest, it's eighty feet underground, and to expedite the construction, huge vertical shafts were sunk into the ground. They're still there to this day, meaning it could be possible to abseil into the tunnel too.

But what really makes it interesting is all the stolen cars.

 

 

I was initially frustrated by the presence of the cars down here, because the locals talk about it like it's the most ordinary thing in the world. Everyone knows they're down here, but nobody seems to question it. That simply isn't enough for me. I must know the story.

 

Most of the vehicles are now in bits.

 

Various other chunks of car wreckage are just strewn across the tunnel. 

 

 

I was determined to find the story behind the cars, and actually ended up talking to one of the folks who brought them here nearly thirty years ago, promising him anonymity for information. He said that it was a bit like "Gone in 60 Seconds," a movie I haven't seen but assume is about car theft. 

 

According to him, in 1995 he and his friends got some sledgehammers and bashed a hole in the tunnel wall big enough to squeeze a car through, and then they regularly stole cars, took them down here, stripped them down to just a shell, make a bit of dosh from all the parts, and then left the shells behind to be set on fire by another group of people. Allegedly at its peak, they had about fifteen cars hidden down here. 

 

Amazingly they were never caught, which initially baffled me because it's a small town. Surely a spree of car thefts would not go unnoticed. But my contact told me that they stole them from further away, never locally. That makes a lot more sense.

 

One of the ceiling shafts, shining a spotlight down onto the floor of the tunnel. 

 

Interestingly the chap who was in charge of sinking these shafts during construction was caught stealing two waistcoats off someones washing line. He ended up with 21 days imprisonment with hard labour. So really the tunnel had its connections to theft from the very beginning.

Whereas the line itself was so notorious for accidents that even the local papers in 1874 said that it was seemingly fated for misfortune.

 

I did hear a rumour of an accident taking place in the tunnel in 1880, but I haven't found any hard evidence. However with a series of railway accidents at the hands of Murder & Breakneck Railways, it doesn't shock me. 

By far the most devastating crash came in 1874 when a train going uphill somehow came uncoupled from its trucks loaded with coal. The trucks then plummeted back down the tracks, eventually reaching about 40mph, slamming into a passenger train that was waiting at the station, obliterating several coaches and sending the locomotive itself flying through the buffers and onto the street, where it took a four foot chunk out of a hotel. Miraculously, only one person died. 

Okay, so for her it wasn't that miraculous. 

But 52 people escaped with minor injuries and a few people needed to have their legs amputated. It could have been much worse.

 

That didn't happen in this tunnel, but it did happen at the local station so it does kinda tie into the history somewhat.

This Cavalier is by far the best preserved car in the entire tunnel. I do wonder if it could be restored. I wonder if its former owner even knows it's here.

Fuck knows what model this one was.

 

Towards the end of the tunnel, there are five "ribs" that took all of my energy to resist climbing on.

This was allegedly installed to support the tunnel lining, but I have no idea why it's just in this section of the tunnel and not more widespread.

 

Here we are at the end of the tunnel. It was a bit of a scramble to get to, what with it being a bit of a pond sprinkled with stepping-stones about as stable as a boomer at a non-binary meetup. But I made it!

 

This is particularly interesting because it looks like when the original wall went up, they still kept a door in it. It seems that when it was forced open by the gang, they bashed a hole around the door. The boulder, however, seems to be blocking the door. It's a bit of a weird set up. If the door wasn't there, could a car fit through here? Was a door fixed across the hole after it was smashed, to stop cars getting in? I just don't know.

 

This side does look a little more like a fairy kingdom. It even has a couple of trees growing out of the top of the entrance archway. It's really pretty.

So at some point, the powers-that-be got wind of all the car thefts, and instead of making any effort to actually catch the perpetrators, they just put big fucking rocks in the way to make it impossible to get cars in. It's a bit of a half-arsed deterrent. Sort of like the car theft equivalent of telling a woman to dress more modestly. It doesn't solve the problem. It just makes it go somewhere else.

To conclude, as far as urbex goes this one is perfect for beginners. You can walk your dog though this tunnel if you really want. They might enjoy it. The chap I spoke to who was part of the car-stealing gang told me that they regularly had sex down here too, so that's apparently an option for any lovebirds out there. If you're alone, you can walk through it naked, because it's so dark nobody will notice. I did walk it naked, but nobody was around to test that theory.

Anyway!!! On that note, that's all I've got. My next blog is a Victorian lido, which is very pretty. And then I'm looking at an abandoned theatre. In the meantime, people always say things like "I miss your blogs. Why don't you do blogs anymore?" And I still do blogs, you fools, you just don't see them because social media is an algorithmic hellscape that won't show people the things that they follow. But anyway, try your luck! Follow me on Instagram, Vero, Reddit, Twitter and Facebook. Maybe you won't miss my blogs. Good luck.

Thanks for reading!