Oh… how I wish I could start each explore with an image of a foreboding, spooky, dark house, or a dank factory flanked by a setting sun resulting in a contrast so extreme it would make you piss in your jockstrap.
In reality, we often get fed eye-candy of pure shit, such as what you are seeing in this cover image for 'ATG Airports'. Even so, if there's something inside of interest, then I can tolerate the odd image of a filthy, overgrown once road partially covered in green slime, or something similarly disgusting.
A visit to Manchester Airport can result in serious parking issues, as there's always some tight-arse who wants to dump their car for free before jetting off to Benalmadina to enjoy the sun and admire the quantities of used toilet paper floating in the sea close to the shoreline.
Today we were off the beaten track, just a little and managed to dump the car on a narrow road, before heading into the undergrowth to avoid a house containing probable Karen's.
ATG Airports is an airfield lighting specialist that has been involved in major projects at Manchester Airport, including the Airport Transformation Programme.
It was quite a march over rough ground as the 'official' road to 'ATG Airports' had been sealed by a solid-looking high fence. As we neared some buildings, it looked bleak. All sealed up to the hilt, and this was looking like another failure.
Ah, but what about that portacabin, the long one with much broken glass and a door that looked suspiciously open?
Besides some distant planes taking off and landing, the area was quiet, and it was enough to convince us that nobody was going to be in there unless it was another explorer.
We crept inside regardless, as you can never be too careful. Inside was a mess and initially disappointing. Large nets, a partially collapsed ceiling and some graffiti that made no sense at all.
It's just as well this boring paperwork was protected; otherwise, room one would have been a total bust. Actually, it was..., as this document doesn't detail anything about booze, women or sex. Things had better look up.
It seems the local ‘fuck writers’ are more illiterate than usual around the Wythenshawe area of South Manchester than average.
A fancy lighting unit that's barely holding on to the ceiling. I don't know what it is.
If someone had not wrenched the front door off its hinges, there's always the more reliable back way, where only half a door remains.
So many doors into this cabin, surely the 'Foreman' must have something of interest stashed away. Bosses don’t do anything other than read porn magazines, right?
There’s surely some junk left in there, and that’s what it was looking like… junk!
A guide on using handbrakes? What is there to know, other than you use them to quickly navigate bends at high speed and hope the 'string' doesn't snap?
I did not have the foggiest what these fuse links were, so I had a Google. They are industrial parts, and not particularly valuable. This must be the reason, they are likely still there and haven't been nicked.
Safety stuff always seems to be left behind, as though nobody gives a toss about being safe. That sounds just about right.
‘ATG Airports’ must have been some kind of safety freak company. I couldn’t get away from it all; everywhere I looked the word ‘safe’ seemed to enter my subconscious.
An order to ‘rewire runway 2 circuits’, and don’t forget all the safety gear. That goes without saying.
What an untidy mess, I think this office would fail safety standards and prove hazardous to everyday workers.
Are they some type of midsize green battery?
That expired long ago, and Ross, don't you realise you are at the wrong airport? Glasgow is in the northern wastes where people never see the sun. I wonder why his left ear is missing from the mugshot? It’s like he’s hiding behind the frame.
Another power supply and possibly some fancy phone. I should have turned it over and had a closer look.
As the doors are broken down, there's no need for keys anymore. We found no locked offices, and trying many keys would have probably made us bored to tears if required.
So if you're a door-to-door Salesperson, Rover is going to answer the door. That's what these multiple messages tell me, and Rover has a large, snarling maw and bites a lot.
Given the fact that 'ATG Airports' is in the middle of nowhere, I cannot see roaming Salespeople rapping on this door, that is, when it was operational.
The Wheat Shreddies looked less than appetising, the Heinz beans even less so. As for the rest, those Peach Slices with a thick layer of Mayo could merit a visit to the local hospital.
Isn’t that telling, ‘ATG Airports’ exist to fix up airport runways.
Lots of papers, but I had seen enough.
The dates on correspondence range from 2009 to 2016. How long has this wrecked cabin been here?
ATG Airports appear to still be in business, but not here.
- Why did they move?
- Did a Salesperson knock on that door?
- Was Rover unleashed?
- Did Rover sink his fangs into the neck of a passing hawker?
- Did they move solely to divert attention and avoid prison?
I reckon I am on to something here.
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