The Welsh Bridge Tunnel

(Disclaimer: Joking aside, I fully understand the risks/dangers involved in these adventures and do so in the full knowledge of what could happen. I don't encourage or condone and I accept no responsibility for anyone else following in my footsteps. I never break into a place, I never take any items and I never cause any damage, as such no criminal offences have been committed in the making of this blog. I will not disclose a location, or means of entry. I leave the building as I find it and only enter to take photographs for my own pleasure and to document the building.)

I can't stress enough how long I've wanted to go up this tunnel. I've heard various rumours about it being an old means of entering various premises via the river, including the Shrewsbury Hotel, whose cellar it was falsely alleged to emerge in.
Another popular story, which sounds infinitely more plausible, is that this is a means of conveyance for the body of water that allegedly sits underneath the square. And indeed, there's some historic accuracy to this, because there actually once was a pool in what is now Shrewsbury Square, where they used to dunk witches back in the day. The water traveled down Mardol, via the alleyway next to the Hole in the Wall, which is why it's called Gullet Passage, and it used to rejoin the river roughly in the same place as this tunnel is.

The truth is, it's a drain, albeit an old one. But I wanted to know, how far underneath Shrewsbury did it go, and would the centuries of changes to various structures open this up to other historic tidbits? Did it emerge anywhere? Would I lift a manhole cover only have my face smashed in by the front of a moving bus? There was only one way to find out!

Well actually there's two ways... I could just get in touch with Severn Trent Water and ask for a drain map. But my way is more fun!

It's also hugely important that I stress the dangers of this kind of exploring. Shrewsbury is prone to flooding, and the UK in general is prone to awful weather. This tunnel entrance is roughly twenty feet below ground level, where I would have no phone signal, and no idea what was happening outside. If it was to suddenly start raining heavily, I could be left with a very short space of time to make it back to the exit. As far as the dangers of urban exploring go, rooftopping and derelict houses look mild in comparison. Drain exploring is the most dangerous activity an explorer can partake in, and it has taken lives before. 

So don't try to emulate this, or at the very least, delete your browser history first. I know my shit, and I take responsibility for it, and I'm doing it with two other guys who also know their shit, arguably better than I do.

Todays accomplices are Stuart who has a boat, and Jim, who I misheard the name of during our introductions and referred to as George for about 45 minutes before realising why he wasn't responding. Both are pretty knowledgeable about this sort of thing, so I was in mostly good hands.

And I got to ride on a boat!

And because I have a flare for the dramatic, I didn't ride in the boat. No, Stuart drove, Jim sat beside him, and I sat perched on the nose like a mermaid figurehead on ships of old, except I don't have a fishtail, and even more tragically, I don't even have a seashell bikini. But I will next time, dammit! I will have my Little Mermaid moment!

Seeing Shrewsbury from the river sure was a treat!

 I totally never noticed the fish statues on the English Bridge before!
Now allegedly these statues served a purpose. In the old days, due to Shrewsbury being prone to flooding, the fish were used as a warning marker. If the water level was at their mouths then the people living in lower areas prone to flooding were warned that their homes might get a little wet.

 And here's a nice river view of the theatre, which I climbed centuries ago. In fact this tunnel entrance is visible in the pictures from the roof.

And here is the nearby Welsh Bridge, which on a quick sidenote contains an engraving that nobody notices unless they know that it's there, containing the message "Commit No Nuisance."

This is on the left as one approaches Welsh Bridge from the town centre, and apparently relates directly to public urinating. I didn't notice it for years, but once seen, one wonders how they ever missed it.

After a brief tour of the river, waving at people who delighted in seeing me perched on the edge of a boat, breathing sighs of relief that I wasn't wearing a seashell bikini, we dropped anchor at the tunnel entrance. Jim opted to stay outside as backup, and we decided for safety purposes that he would periodically call up the tunnel for us, and if he didn't get a response, wait for ten minutes, and if he still didn't hear anything, call the emergency services. 

 A few feet into the tunnel, the water stops, as the tunnel tilts slightly upwards. It's worth noting before we go any further that this is a storm drain, and never functioned as a sewer.
Storm drains don't carry human waste, they simply faciliate the removal of water from the town into the river. So in terms of hygiene, we're not wading through any excrement or anything. That's not to say this thing is clean. No, it's far from it. But it's not the contents of peoples bowels that's down here, thankfully.
 This drain is pretty ancient, although I'm not an expert on advancements in storm drain construction. However I'm fairly certain that this is well over a century old.

This door is interesting. It's designed to open from water pressure from the inside, allowing water to escape into the river, but if the river were to flood, the water on the outside would actually hold the door in place, preventing the tunnel from flooding. As you can probably guess, it was going to be quite a squeeze to get past this.
I took a few moments to appreciate standing up straight, because it could be a long time before I was able to do so again, and then I crawled in.

 This tunnel is cramped and seems to go on for quite some time, although it's difficult to tell quite how far we were going, given that we were essentially traversing Shrewsbury town centre on our hands and knees in a confined space in the dark. Stuart did try to use Google maps to see where we were under, but with the ground roughly twenty feet above us, there wasn't a phone signal.
I do admire the ancient brickwork in this drain though. Despite being a location that the public shouldn't see, I find the tunnel aesthetically pleasing.

 It's interjected in places by other pipes passing through, presumably of more modern design. These did make it challenging, because in already cramped conditions I now had to get on my belly and squeeze myself under these obstacles.

 I'm not sure what this is. It looks like a more recent structure was built on top, cutting into the old drain tunnel.

 Various, much smaller pipes also join onto the tunnel, no doubt connecting to the surface.

 This particular drain grate is positively ancient and probably long out of use.

But once again, consider the danger involved here. If it started raining heavily, it's a long way to crawl in the dark, while this confined space fills with water. It just carried on going, too! I could hear the clanging of vehicles far above me driving over manhole covers that didn't even lead to this tunnel, and I crawled until the sound was behind me. Later I went into town on ground level to see if I could find any manhole covers that clang from regular traffic, but I couldn't figure out where it was. I have no idea where we were under.

Things started to get a bit dodgy towards the end as the floor of the tunnel became increasingly boggy.

Finally the tunnel begins splitting into multiple smaller pipes, of which I was not small enough to traverse.

But as you can see, the continuance of these tunnels was also restricted by the build-up of rubble. Physically, we could go no further.

Stuart and I turned back, which in itself was no easy feat, given the cramped conditions, and returned to the boat, emerging filthy from all of the dirt thats down here. My ride back on the nose of the boat was understandably less glamourous, what with me being caked in dirt, but we had a few drinks at the Crown, the only pub in Shrewsbury which you can visit by boat, and then thankfully Jim decided to give me a lift home, to save me walking among the humans in my cave-dweller attire.

Nevertheless, no regrets. This was an amazing little adventure, different from much of what I've done before, but totally worth it. I'm a naturally curious person, and every time I've ever walked over Welsh Bridge, this huge tunnel has just been there, mocking me in gaping watery silence, impossible to access by foot. So yes, this was an itch that needed scratching, and as such I enjoyed this adventure. Yes, it was just a drain, but I just enjoy exploring any nook and cranny of my town that is off the general publics radar, and arguably this adventure sums up the blog title 100%.

Having said that, it was also a relief to stand up straight again, having spent the day cramped up in this tunnel.

Thats all I got. Next time, I'm off to another abandoned house in Shropshire, and then, unless something amazing happens to sidetrack me, I'm blogging about one of the coolest places I've ever found, out in Wales. In the meantime, share this blog, follow my Instagram, like my Facebook, subscribe to my Youtube and follow my Twitter.

Thanks for reading!