They say that curiosity killed the cat but what many people don’t know is that there is a second part to this proverb: satisfaction brought it back. I have always had an inquisitive mind however, quite oddly, I am selectively inquisitive. I consciously choose to remain ignorant to politics and the news whilst my thirst to explore behind closed doors and beyond boundaries is never quite quenched. This desire to explore was challenged last year when whilst living at regency I was passing the old cinema on a daily basis without knowing what lay behind the tired cream walls and the battered blue barricade. Finally the time has come to enter the abandoned cinema and find out. I have heard of an air vent at the back of the cinema that allows access and along with a few friends I plan to go exploring and find out what secrets lie hidden within the walls of this devastatingly beautiful building in the heart of Cheltenham.

As I approach the spot where the open air vent should be, this is what I am faced with: an impenetrable layer of solid cement. There is no way I am going to be able to get in this way.

After a quick look around it becomes apparent that I am not the only one that has had reason to want to enter the building. The scattered collec-tion of mattresses suggests that the building may of been home to more than a few local vagrants.

Plan B

After the excitement of planning my expedition into the depths of Cheltenham’s derelict Odeon and the disappointment of having my plans flawed, I cannot rest. I have become fixated on finding abandoned places to explore within the local area. After a spontaneous team talk and a quick goggle search I find myself stood in the middle of a forest facing, what I can only describe as, a rather enticing underground bunker.

I am in the perfectly quaint village of Chedworth on the outskir ts of Cheltenham. Once home to the long abandoned Chedworth Airfield the woodlands surrounding the village are simply crawling with underground nooks and bunkers all just waiting to be explored. It is the joy of stumbling across theses treasures that fuels my interest and curiosity. Although a picture supposedly says a thousand words you cannot fathom the beauty of these places until you have discovered them for yourself.

As I approach the door I am filled with angst. You never know what you are going to find in places like this and my mind runs riot fabricating tales of axe murderers and the ghosts of lost children who still roam the woods of Chedworth.

The relief of not finding anything too disturbing is always surpassed by the sheer unstructured beauty of decay.

This once regimented design has become awash with the stains and weather ing of time.

...of the concrete and the vibrancy of...

The contrast between the dull grey...

...the early autumn foliage is simply striking.

The lighting in this bunker is stun

ning. It turns the harsh blocks

and lines of the practical

design into a thing of grace

and elegance. My interest

in these places does not

necessarily lie within what

I find, but rather what I

can make of my findings.

What details can I pick

out? How can I look at

these artefacts in a way

that they have never

been viewed before?

It is another case of

my ignorance colliding

with my curiosity. I

am ignorant to the

historical content and

significance of these

buildings but could still

contently spend hours

conquering them and

studying their every inch.

Onwards And Upwards

Although it is quite clearly not connected with the airfield this building caught my eye as we drove past and as I like to leave no stone unturned I am soon amidst the rubble searching for new delights.

It is the simple things in life that I find most beautiful. There is something about isolating an object that makes it somehow seem more profound. Many people would walk past these things unknow-ingly but once they are captured in a certain way they become a thing of undeniable beauty.

Remember that un-nerving feeling I had as I approached the entrance to the last bunker? Well that has tripled itself as I prepare myself to enter this bunker. It is not the darkness inside that is bothering me, it’s the descent. There is something about descending into strange places, or any places for that matter, that doesn’t quite sit right with me. I think it is the vulnerability of presenting your lower body to the unknown and the lack of a quick escape if the Chedworth ripper does actually decide to go for you.

Entering The Abyss

Once I am in the bunker my worries are temporarily eased. I say temporarily as there are access

issues due to flooding and at some point I am going to have to make another go of this with

better equipment. For now, however, I am safe. The gentle light that beams through the gaps

softens the darkness and I suddenly find myself in an altogether less daunting environment.

The Night Shift

For some unknown reason a decision has been

made to revisit this bunker at night. I don’t

know if the full moon is a consolation with its

light or an extra omen. Am I going to be greeted

with a shimmering light reflecting off the dew

kissed woodlands or by my favourite axeman

and his werewolf friend? None the less, I am

armed with my wellies and I am ready for action.

My fear has quadrupled again but I am deter-

mined to explore this underground network.

After successfully embarking on my conquest of exploration and coming back with an unbeatable sense of satisfaction I have found myself back at the first bunker I visited. As I stand in another abandoned building just meters away from the bunker I question myself as to why I am here again. Aside from the fact that everything looks different in the darkness and things take on a totally different feeling, I am here for the most basic of reasons: I am just not ready to go home. I want this adventure to continue.

Adam Cale