Background
Arguably one of the most iconic buildings in British history, Battersea powerstation takes an affectionate place in the hearts of British folk. Forever immortilised on the cover of Pink Floyd's 'Animal', and more recently in the film Children of Men, the building has a rich, and recently turbulent history.

The distinctive design, emblazened with the four stacks in each corner, actually came together over the period of two decades. Inside, away from the public eye, the building is an incredible fusion of art deco design and truly proud architecture. Staircases are marble and polised wood, and massive murals from the 1920s adorn the interal walls.

Although the future of Battersea is unclear, one thing is sure - the shell of the building will remain.

June 2006 - The Exploration
Present - dsankt, siologen, stoop and quantum-x

Riding the high of our Japanese adventures, and the idea of New York subways tantilising us, dsankt and I were ready for London. The Westbourne Sewer system, and Battersea Powerstation. On my previous trips to Battersea, it seemed to be a fortress - every angle was covered by cameras, and surrounded by a 12' fence. Sitting next to the station itself was a guard hut, with two sleepy, yet diligent guards watching the cameras.

This time, however, things were different. Due to upheavals with the future plans for the building, control of the project had moved from one son in the owning family to another. During this process, security was changed out - and by sheer serendipity, it bought us a two day window of no cameras.

Approaching the fence by the rail-lines, we dodged the third rail and rumbling overland trains, to eventually negotiate our way to a chain-link gate - and just beyond, the prize. Said, prize, however, was brilliantly illuminated - there would be no way we could get close without casting huge shadows or silhouettes. Dismissing these problems as technicalities, we mounted the gate, and slipped our way toward the building.

The inside reveals a completely new perspective - the building is cut into three distinct sections - and each one is massive - so much so, that it took us over an hour just to find a serviceable flight of stairs. These false starts included side-trips to alarmed office sections, up walls via rickety ladders, and some interesting angles on the interior. Eventually, we wove our way through a network of mezzanines, uneven staircases and dead ends, until we finally arrived at the door that promised access to the lower roof. Most unfortunately, it was sealed tight - held in place by ample sheets of ply and screws. Determined, and armed with a butter knife, over the next hour I pain-stakingly burred the knife, and in the process removed enough screws to allow us to squeeze past onto the roof.

Rising above us were the stacks, with scaffolding flimsily attached. In plain sight of anyone who cared to look, and bathed in flood light, we made our way to the top of the scaffold - the base of the dominating stacks. From here, it was simply a task to take in the view, and capture as much on cel as possible.

However, the tradgedy of the night was yet to occur. Having borrowed my only headlamp to pick his way back around the base of the stack, siologen called out something to me - but it was lost on the breeze. After finishing up, I blindly picked my way down and through the stack room, feeling my way with my hands. Suddenly, an all too soft sensation underfoot accompanied with the sound of a squeezy dog's toy revealed what siologen had warned me about: there was a nest of baby pigeons in the middle of the floor. To my utter disdain, and the amusement of the others, I'd traumatically and effectively reduced the population of London's pigeon population by one.

After this, we headed back downstairs, and picked our way qthrough the rooms of the station, which contained a mixed inventory of knicknacks, papers, blueprints, and downright odd collections of seemingly random typewriters, reams of advertisments and brochures, and long forgotten lunches.

We made our way to the control rooms - which are a sight to behold - art deco and wooden, they remain intact even today - primarily due to the surprising amount of security that is applied to them. The night wore on and gave way to morning, so we took our last photos and retreated - the score: Battersea Powerstation Guards, 0, the team, 1, and the resident avian community: -1.

The roof of the abandoned Battersea Powerstation, and the shell below.

A unique angle of one of the bays of the station

Who ya gonna .. call? write to ? divide by 5 ?