pyestock | recce

This is when we had our adventures with the door. The metal door we found partly open, part way up the building, and accessed via a walkway high above the pipe-work which had protected us from view so well. We were now completely exposed, and so wanted to get inside this building fast. But the door hasnít been oiled for years, and squeaked and groaned whenever we tried to edge it forward by another inch. Every small motion of the door made another ear splitting grinding noise, pinpointing us perfectly as we squatted on this metal platform half way up the building, desperately trying to look invisible. In the end, after several small movements, each of which reduced us to cringing wrecks, we simply lugged the recalcitrant door open, and pulled it shut behind us; damn the noise!