Although my adventures into London’s sprawling underground network are certainly over, i do still have fond memories and tales of previous exploits that have yet to be told. For a while I’ve been debating the pros and cons of publishing these stories, part of me wants to separate myself from them as far as humanly possible, while the other reminds me well, whats done is done.
Since I’ve already been punished for these activities i don’t see the harm in posting them online. I’ve made it abundantly clear by now that the punishments for attempting what i did are serious and long term, as such i can in no way be seen to be positively promoting the idea of doing the same. I guess as always, ill never know the official reaction until i receive that fated 6am knock on the door. So without further delay, I present from the dusty vault of yesteryear’s, Brompton Road Tube Station.
Sat on the Piccadilly line, Brompton Road Tube Station opened in 1906 between South Kensington and Knightsbridge. Much like London’s other abandoned stations it received minimal use due to its poor positioning, the nearby South Kensington station more appealing due to its connection with the Circle & District line. Similar to Down Street it saw use during WW2 as a shelter with the platforms being bricked up although without the partitioned rooms. Brompton Road finally shut its doors in 1934 with the majority of the station building later demolished to make way for planned road widening schemes in the area.
There were only three ways into the Brompton Road station, via the Piccadilly line, the ventilation shaft that sits above it or through the remains of the station building which is now owned by the Ministry of Defense. Unfortunately for us, two of those were no longer possible. The station building for obvious reason and the vent shaft, which was capped in 1995 after the dead body of a previous infiltrator was found rotting at the bottom, supposedly falling when a structure above collapsed under his weight. This left only one option, the tracks.
While I’m no stranger to running live tunnels, it still remains my least preferred method of entry. The idea of my life ending due to extreme voltage or the impact of lots of metal haunt my dreams, but if its the only option and the distance is small then I’m willing to risk it.
Fueled by our recent success we sat above a nearby station, hidden in darkness, patiently watching the swarm of orange clad worker bee’s scurrying in and out. They were not alone, at the head of the platform resided the station master, sat in a private booth surrounded by a bank of monitors, presumably connected to the stations CCTV cameras. We hadn’t even progressed ten meters and already the night appeared to be a failure.
Time ticked away, the workers showing no signs of relenting, one hour, two hours, three hours. We had all but given up hope, our minds loosing focus distracted by the thoughts of what and where we could eat at 3am. Enough was enough, deciding to return another day we began the climb out getting mere meters before immediately hitting the deck as a large group of workers assembled on the platform. We watched as they chatted and collectively walked up into the station building presuming they would return, but they never did, the sound of several trucks driving away our signal they were gone for good. A quick check of the time, we could still make it.
Now while i could describe to you what happened over the next ten minutes using words, personally i think the medium of moving image is able to tell it in greater detail. As such if your curiosity extends beyond just looking at the pictures on this page, i recommend watching the first episode of Crack The Surface. If your not then continue on, if you are then the following extra pictures of what awaited us afterwards will wait here patiently for your return.
As it turned out this would be our last successful adventure into the underground, a final hurrah, although we didn’t know it at that time.