“It’s not that obvious or anything, but I look at a lot of street art.” Sebastian was quick to disarm the situation. Street artists often have themes, and one of the guys owned up to several Disney characters we’d seen painted in exaggerated poses.Īnother spectator, who seemed to do most of the talking, said he’d been doing street art for over 20 years. We struck up a conversation, and asked about the other illegal art around the park. We stumbled across two guys watching a third spraypaint a wall. We didn’t go anywhere we shouldn’t, but we checked out a few of the back alleys and off-the-track areas of Aalborg. Photo: Jamie SmallĪ few days later, Sebastian took me daytime exploring. Here an anthroporphised viking longboat swims the depths. So we re-ascended to enjoy one last city view before retiring for the night.Ī lot of the street art is legitimate, commissioned work. “Does the security guard call the police, or does he just yell at people?” I asked. When we descended, he said he didn’t have a problem with us, but sometimes a security guard came by. A man walking his dog in the wee hours yelled at us in Danish when we were halfway up the stairs. It was all very 007.Īfter we’d explored most of the unlocked areas, our nerves got the better of us and we went back outside to climb the tower. The tunnels stretched out for hundreds of metres and we found several large concrete rooms to explore. In the underground facility, the lights were on and the machines were operating, but we didn’t find anyone. The fences were easily circumvented and the doors were left unlocked. for some reason, security seems lackadaisical in Ålborg. We then went to some kind of factory, most of which was underground. We left our empty cans (which in Denmark can be exchanged for credit at any supermarket) for them. We wandered into a park, where we found a small storage shed in the bushes that someone had turned into a home, coming and going via the window. We literally jumped up and down, talking over one another trying to decide whether we should tell anyone about it, or go to the police. Then we exploded with excitement, letting the adrenaline take hold. Sebastian wouldn’t let me say anything about Nazis until we were about two blocks away.
A giant turbine was sitting out the front of the local Rolls-Royce factory, so we climbed in, just to experience what it’s like to drink a beer inside a giant turbine.Īfter, we powerwalked up the road in what we hoped was an innocent fashion.
Sebastian’s friends bailed, so we went in search of our next adventure. We were just far enough away from central Ålborg that the sounds were muted. A cool breeze blew out onto the fjord, and the city lights from the opposing Nørresundby reflected on the water. The fire ladder was crushed and twisted, making it an acrobatic exercise to climb to the roof carrying beer.
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Pub drinks proved too expensive to maintain, so we met a few of his friends, bought a case of beer and headed to a waterfront warehouse.Ī lot of the windows were broken, the football field-sized floor was empty save for some discarded steel, rubbish and tufts of grass. Sebastian had promised to take me out later but we wanted to lube up a bit first. That night started watching sport at a downtown pub.
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