More corridors.

I went shopping again. Bought some big Maglites rated for up to ten hours, more batteries and a larger camping pack. Gas lanterns, a little stove, ski clothes, a Zippo. I packed the camera and tapes with some chalk, my sleeping bag, canned food and water.

Once it was all packed, I could barely get the bag onto my shoulders. I had another bag against my chest. I'd thought about taking a small cart, but there was no way I was getting it down those stairs.

The walk in was slow. I had to stop and adjust the straps several times before reaching the staircase. Going down, I couldn't see my feet properly past the bag in front, so I took it off and carried it in one hand.

At the bottom I put a large chalk arrow on the floor, pointing back to the stairs. Then I walked straight out into the room, stopping regularly to draw another arrow. I kept looking back until the staircase disappeared beyond the light.

Eventually I reached a wall.

I was so pleased to find something that I put my hand against it and stood there for a while. I made a mark at shoulder height and a big arrow on the floor showing where I'd come from. Then I turned right and followed the wall.

There was an opening further along. Another corridor, about the same width as the first. I marked the entrance and went in.

This one turned. First left, then right a little further on. After that I stopped trying to remember the sequence and drew arrows at every corner. There were places where I had to choose which way to go. I marked the passage I'd taken and kept filming whenever I had a hand free.

It was starting to feel like a maze. I couldn't understand why anyone would build it. There were no rooms being used for anything, no pipes or wires that I could see. Just passages leading to more passages. The amount of work involved must have been enormous.

At some point I noticed my watch had stopped. I checked it again after walking another stretch. The hands hadn't moved.

By then I was hungry and having trouble keeping my eyes focused. I found a place to sit at a corner, unpacked the stove and heated a can of lasagna in the little pot. Getting the pack off hurt almost as much as carrying it.

I'd expected to lie awake listening if I ever slept in there. Instead, I got into the sleeping bag and barely remember putting my head down. Nothing woke me. When I opened my eyes again, I had no idea how long I'd been asleep.

I ate a little, packed up and carried on.

More corners. More empty stretches. I kept thinking I'd go as far as the next turn before deciding whether to stop. Eventually I was standing at another junction, looking at the chalk in my hand, and realized I was doing exactly what I'd promised myself I wouldn't do.

I turned back.

None of the lamps I'd left along the route were still lit when I reached them. I used the spares as I went, following the chalk marks back to the room and then the stairs. I left the dead lamps where they were. Next time I can carry batteries for them instead of hauling all the lamps in again.

I've unpacked the food and left most of the equipment by the basement stairs. My shoulders are sore enough that getting my shirt off was difficult.

I keep thinking about the turns I didn't take. It's irritating to come back with more tape and no explanation. I want to find something that tells me why any of this is here. Even an old piece of equipment or a sign on a wall would give me something to work with.