Some rooms are better than others. Ever since seeing the first reports of this almost-to-good-to-be-true vintage remnant of British Power Stations past, I had made it my express intention to see it for myself. Of course, life kept getting in the way, as it has a persistent habit of doing, and one obstacle followed another. I would then assume that I had missed the opportunity, until another photo would pop up... again raising the possibility... and so on...
Then there was lockdown, and shielding, forcing everything on the back burner. So when restrictions on movement were eased this felt like the perfect one to head for with some kind of haste, in the hope that it was still hanging on in there, being all awesome and control roomy and not just a pile of rubble and shit... Although this visit was only in July it now seems much longer ago than that, given how messed up and distorted time has felt this year. I also think, on reflection, the whole business of lockdown gave me the opportunity to reassess a few things in relation to this hobby and emerge a little more determined, maybe, to do some things that I'd been putting off for a while, this being the first...
Anyway, I was accompanied on this occasion by @Sheard, who had generously agreed to come with me, even though he had been before - testament to the lure of this room! We had heard that a number of the other buildings on site were in the process of being flattened - albeit again perhaps delayed slightly by that small matter of a global pandemic. As much as I would have really liked to see the other nearby buildings that formed the Soda Ash Works, this being an evening visit, with a small window of daylight, made seeing the larger site impossible anyway. So this was a control room only deal.
After the post-work drive, getting to the building itself was an enjoyable task, involving some low-level acrobatics, a decent measure of vigilance and a satisfying amount of anticipatory walking. As it turned out we were either fortunate with our timing, or (more likely) the previous security patrols on site has been scaled back. There were plenty of recent-ish looking tyre tracks in the mud on the lengthy walk across the jagged industrial edgelands that were, until 2007, home to Winnington B power station and the associated freight line etc. However, our anticipated dashes for cover in shrubbery never manifested and we passed the whole way unchallenged. Along the route I took a few photos with my phone, which I have been doing more of recently - trying to take a bit more account of the whole experience - the 'getting there' bit as well as the destination itself.
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As we edged closer, things became more exciting, landscape wise, as our destination and the other structural remnants came into view.
Large piles of twisted metal that were once buildings, and the machines that had recently made them such, sat alongside the deceptively unremarkable brick and metal structure that contained our treasure.
All that remained was a bit of a cautious dash, a climb, a squeeze and we were in.
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Once inside, aesthetically the room offered everything in person that had been promised by other people's photos. Sadly the power that was previously on has now been turned off, so our photos needed to be lit by the last remnants of the late evening sun and a little light painting. I shot two films, one colour and one black and white - excessive perhaps for a single room, but I wanted to make sure I captured at least a couple of pictures that did the place justice - if only for my own satisfaction of a job done properly.
I did wonder whether adding yet ANOTHER report on this place was a worthwhile exercise, but I don't think I've seen it on film, so at least that's something a little different. I restrained myself from pressing any buttons, and I'm much less educated in the detail of these places than many other people here. I just really like how the colours and the dials look how we imagined the future might look in the early 1980s... as opposed to the actual future, where we've all ended up having to wear crap masks and have to make sure we don't get too close to each other.
Our exit was as satisfyingly uneventful as our entry, but in reverse and a little darker - although the majority of the external site was still floodlit. I also managed to twist my ankle, which had me hobbling awkwardly for days, perhaps in part due to the celebratory skip in my stride that resulted in having finally seen something I'd hope to see for quite a while.
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