Entering the engine room, dominated by the winding drum, all seems in good condition and very complete to my untrained eye. Once, thankfully, onto the solid metal frame it becomes clear that just one bolt, albeit welded in place, supports the steps. Reassuringly these are actual steps rather than the ladders that can be seen clinging to the higher levels however it’s not long before they develop a worrying wobble and a disturbing list towards the river. Having selected my crane, and with one hand firmly covering the handrail, I start to make my way up the first set of steps. Like many things in the zone, it’s often not the part that looks scary that actually is. The bucket of the closest crane swings gently in the breeze snapped open at tree level. The ground surrounding them freshly turned over by the rooting of wild boar. Like the cooling towers, it’s only as you approach them that you appreciate their true size. A fourth tilts precariously in the river itself, almost as if about to wade ashore. Three metal monsters guard the river bank.
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