The Pedestrian Tunnel – Newcastle Upon Tyne

Posted by Jimmy on Jan 27, 2012 in England | 3 comments

It isn’t that I believe in ghosts, or anything supernatural, there’s just something about the pedestrian tunnel that doesn’t seem right. Footsteps 500 meters away pound against your eardrums. The acoustics in the tunnel add a fantastical dimension to an already misshapen scene.

Only one of the wooden escalators work. A constant creaking sound emanates from the distance, echoing over and over again. The tunnel was built in 1951. I’m almost certain those escalators were the original ones. Looking at the grim, yellow stained walls, I wonder if anything has been replaced in its 62 year existence.

The flashing lights in the dimly lit walkway force the pedestrian into a scene from nightmare on elm street. This isn’t a place where someone should be taking pictures – especially not at this late hour. I can’t help myself, though. My eye seeks out the old and crooked, the grim and gritty, the things that we try to ignore. These places scream character to me.

Many years ago I used to cycle through this tunnel as quickly as I could coming home from work. There was no other way for me to cross the river Tyne with my bike at that time. Like anyone else, the thought of some crazed, drug fuelled madman attacking me was clinging onto my frontal lobe, dominating my consciousness throughout the short visits I had to make to the tunnel.

Now, with my camera and tripod, the odd passerby sees me as the madman. I’m lurking in a shady spot waiting for my camera to take the shot. A hooded figure nears me. I’m on alert, of course. I’ve never seen a security guard here. As he gets close to me I glance at him. No sooner had our eyes met, he looked away, seemingly terrified.

I couldn’t get cocky, mind you. This tunnel may not be as crime-ridden as our imaginations tell us, but flashing an expensive camera anywhere at night is asking for it to get stolen.

I’m in there for 20 minutes – 15 minutes longer than I’d hoped. There are just too many interesting scenes. In the end, I tear myself away and cycle to Rachel’s dad’s house.

My fascination with the old, dark and dreary is getting stronger. I seek these places more and more. I’ll have to take extra precautions in other countries. But, I’m excited about what other Tim Burton-esque scenes I’ll discover over the next few years.

I hope you enjoy the shots (click to enlarge)