I think its fair to say that with experience over the years, i have become more aware of the dangers of draining, knowing when and when not to descend under a city. When i began there was little in terms of community, Jon Doe & Stoop of Sub-urban the only real participants involved. Given i could be anybody, a total stranger, it wouldn’t have been fair to ask the two for handouts, leaving me two options, go alone, or go home.

Entering a sewer alone is a horrendous idea, i strongly urge you against it. If something goes wrong, your done for. With no-one there to rescue you it could be days, weeks, even months before your found, if at all. Your body at the mercy of the sewage and tides, rats your dying companions.

Serpents Lair, officially named the “Hammersmith Storm Relief Sewer (East, West and Brook Green)”. It serves the Brook Green, Counters Creek, Low Level No*1+2 and Stamford Brook sewers, flowing to the now demolished Hammersmith Pumping Station and multiple outfalls. The original West Branch was constructed prior to 1904, the East Branch in 1921 and the Brook Green Branch in 1934 which was further extended in 1937.

If you had to describe Serpents lair in one word, i think the best would be “cesspit”. A thick soup of used needles, tampons, diapers, dead animals and enough excrement to rebuild the twin towers flows within its tunnels. Several years on and it still rates as one of the most disgusting sewers in London and even Europe, but also one of the best. If you manage to ignore the scum and depravity around you, the system offers all the junctions, chambers and features any sewer explorer could want, although that is a big if.

Round brick tunnels sometimes make it difficult to compose and pose in photographs at the same time, a slippery dance around your tripod the only option should you wish to try, one such tango in Serpents almost cutting my life short. Before my leg had reached the other side, i found myself horizontal, falling, attempts to correct myself with the tripod only bringing it down with me. The crack and smash of the camera hitting the wall the last audible sound before my head did the same.

When i next opened my eyes i found my face inches from the sewage flowing beneath my neck, my mouth thankfully pointing upwards, preventing me from drowning. With my camera in pieces, clothes and other possessions ruined, I clambered to my feet, my head-torch still working allowing drag myself out.

I don’t know how long i was unconscious for, but it was long enough to put things into perspective. The experience an almost deadly reminder of the dangers contained within a system system, but one that ensured i would never again enter one on my own.