Last night, I had a little micro adventure with two of my oldest friends. I’ve known them since I started secondary school, around twelve years ago now. The fact that we still hang out is pretty cool, mostly because I didn’t realize I was capable of that kind of commitment, but even more mostly because we like to do weird and pointless stuff together. Like this.
On this particular night, we decided to head to Racton Ruins to take some cool pictures, and debate the existence of ghosts. (it’s like a debate on the existence of god, only ghosts don’t cause wars).
We headed off to the countryside in the dark of night to find the elusive ruins that we hadn’t been able to find the night before. Even though we had a smartphone with gps on it the night before that still couldn’t get us there. seriously, what is the point in smartphones? mines not smart and I can barely use the phone app on it. I’d rather have a messenger pigeon, it’s easier to send messages on those things and frankly I think it would have a better sense of direction. And it wouldn’t break if you dropped it. And once it’s run it’s course you could cook it into a delicious meal instead of adding to mountains of electrical waste. Where was I going with this? Pigeon meals… No, Racton Ruins.
We were all pretty excited when we found it. There is something fascinating about a man-made structure that’s been left to decay. And there’s something satisfying about nature slowly taking back over. Then you see all of the graffiti by some talented young artist who had some cans of halfords spray paint left from when he painted his old banger that looks suspiciously like all the suspension had collapsed and you think ‘I wonder how I can make that sound elegant in a blog’. Turns out you can’t. One of the best parts about taking pictures when you don’t have any proper equipment is how much effort you get to put in. You can’t just set up a few lights to illuminate the world around you, you just have to rest your camera somewhere then run around with a torch, slipping up on mud and running into brick walls. But the wrecked shoes and missing shins are almost worth it when you get a kinda funky shot.Feeling confident that we’d explored enough, we headed back to the car kinda bummed out that nothing vaguely spooky happened. Then we saw a random shoe in the lane that we hadn’t seen on the way up.And we thought we were stupid for wearing flat soled Vans that night. At least we didn’t look as stupid as old hoppy who lost her stilettoAll in all it was a fairly fun night, the pictures could have been better, my shoes could have been cleaner, but there’s not much complaining I can do when you get to spend a cool night like that with your mates.
Happy pigeon eating.