It’s only been two days since I have returned from Belgium and I am already fiending for my next explore. I know it’s just around the corner, I have a few invites to go places this weekend, but in the meantime, I am stuck here behind my computer writing grant applications and trying to catch up on my field notes, taking short breaks to look at pictures like this one:

Somebody's house, nobody's home

This was a stately home that Vanishing Days took me and Marc to a few weeks ago where we all shared some angsty moments in a beautiful hallway with a spiral staircase, a dome-shaped skylight and some very large mirrors.

Space Invaders

The thing about this house, and the reason, I think, why I keep going back to look at the photo, is that it was clearly not abandoned very long ago (I heard 1998 – so maybe 11 years). Generally, I find that the more recently a place was abandoned, the more interesting it it to explore, because it has some sort of presence. You can feel who was there. At times, you can feel their grief and loss. Sometimes, it seems even more visible, some small piece of crumbling failure, a left behind artefact or scrawled note. Maybe it is the line between UrbEx and Infiltration and my need to get closer to that line is becoming greater as I have to feed that addiction.

Forgotten pet

Vanishing Days, Marc and I saw this bird trapped between door frames and shutters, to panicked to get out, not intelligent enough not to get in in the first place. We saved it, but quickly realized that there were piles of dead ones behind the windows. We were forced to accept that this was their fate, just like the house, now no one’s home, which would die a slow death. But for a day, the house was enjoyed, playful desires were realized, new shoots of life were located, and space became place. As I stare at the picture of this beautiful abode, I like to think that it appreciated our visit.

Spun

Silk

Ever since becoming interested in UrbEx, I had heard the legends of the Paris Catacombs. It seemed to be some distant dream, the unobtainable pinnacle of UrbEx protected by cataflics and catophiles alike. But a few weeks ago, a phone call from Hydra handed me the golden key. A friend of ours in Paris (who is consequently one of the best photographers I have ever seen) invited us for a four day trip deep into the catacombs, a trip which was to cover dozens of kilometers, sleeping, eating, dreaming and crawling through the various galleries.

The trip began with a 8 hour coach ride from London, across the channel on the ferry, and into Paris at 7am. After spending the morning rounding up supplies, we crawled into the catas in the afternoon, finding them pretty much empty on a Friday. Although my gear was carefully minimized and I was in good shape for the explore, the catas required a different sort of stride than I was used to. It was low, head turned to one side, many times through deep water, waddling quickly after our guide who had endless energy and an incredible drive to explore.

photo by Hydra 2009

photo by Hydra 2009

The galleries underneath Paris seem to go on forever, punctuated by brief stops in various rooms (chatières) which have been lovingly dug out and maintained by the cataphiles who care for this place.

photo by Hydra 2009

photo by Hydra 2009

We slept in a tight chamber which became increasingly cold as the night wore on. At some point, about 2am, an explorer woke us up, looking for a place to sleep himself. He asked if we could wake him when we left but was not very amused when we started crawling at 7am again! We ran into a few other groups of people over the weekend, mostly people going down casually to party. The most interesting person we met however, was a cataphile who demonstrated the proper use of a smoke bomb to evade subterranean authorities. When we finally exited the room where he lit it, we had to feel our way along the walls and our torches only made it worse!

photo by Hydra 2009

photo by Hydra 2009

One of the things that struck me about the experience was the constant reminders of death. I guess this is inevitable, given that we are in a place full of the bones of the dead, a place underground where the dead are though to dwell, a place where one could die anytime. It seemed that everywhere you look, there is a skull, real or iconic, a death mask, a memorial or alter. Perhaps this is what makes this place so sacred, perhaps this is why the days I spent in the catacombs felt like a dream, like the sleep that the Buddhists call a “small death”. Perhaps this is why, for the last two days since I have been home, the catacombs still live in my dreams.

photo by Bradley L. Garrett

photo by Bradley L. Garrett

The end to our catajourney was somewhat comical. After days underground, we thought it would be funny to pop out of a manhole cover in the sidewalk and walk home. Unfortunately for us, the cover was incredibly heavy and we spent far too long trying to move it. Eventually, the police drove by and noticed the cover being moved and stopped to find out what was happening. After some assurances that we were safe and not up to mischief, they opened the cover for us, allowing for a safe exit from our 100 foot underground wander.

Our guide was an expert blagger and chatted up the police who eventually just wanted to ask questions about what was below and see our pictures and video. They even left us take some pictures of our exit and scrape with the gendarmes on our way home. I have to say that this experience, being American, was as surreal for me as the explore and I have an entirely new love and respect for France. Now maybe I should spend some time seeing it above ground!

photo by Bradley L. Garrett

[vimeo 5189179]

As I was leaving a day of film training with the Oxford Academy of Documentary Film in the University College London anthropology department, I ran into a protest stemming from the University of London School of Oriental and African Studies (SOAS). Having a bag full of camera equipment, it was too good to pass up.

I followed the crowd for about 10 minutes, capturing the flavor of the protest. When I got back home, I googled the issue and found out that the ISS had detained or deported a number of the University’s cleaners when it was found they were in the country illegally. Apparently these demonstrations have been taking place every day and are gaining steam.

The crowd seemed torn, with some advocating violence and others desiring peaceful protest. I wonder if this will go anywhere. Either way, it is lovely to be in a university system with students who actually take action rather than just sitting around moaning about the world’s injustices.

Oh yeah, and if you are that girl that was in the front keeping the chats going, call me!

In 2006, the UK Government introduced legislation that will establish a National Identity Register. By law, all citizens will be required to have National Identity cards which include biometric information. The cards have prompted fears of increased government surveillance and corporate control of personal data.

The guerrilla geography group of Britain organized a one-day intervention in Newcastle to raise awareness about the cards. I went up there at the end of January to see what all the fuss was about. Here is the link to the film:

Guerilla Geography ID Card Intervention in Newcastle from Bradley L. Garrett on Vimeo.

Just spent two days at the Royal Geographic Society Urban Research Group’s 2-day MultipliCITIES conference at Queen Mary, University of London.

It was a fantastic two days filled with a lot of great talks. Unfortunately, I found out about it a bit late to give one.

Thanks to the Urban Research group for organizing this! Now on to the CHAT conference next week!