This week: Urban ExplorationEdited by: Jeff
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"Somewhere, something incredible is waiting to be known."
-- Carl Sagan
Mystery Trivia of the Week: Leighton Gage is a crime writer whose signature character is Chief Inspector Mario Silva, an investigator in Brazil. The inspiration for this character came from living in Brazil for more than twenty years, and the subjects of his novels center around real-world issues for Brazil, which he hopes to bring to the attention of the rest of the world. Gage is actually an American, but has lived for extended periods in Germany, the UK, the Netherlands, Australia, Argentina, and Brazil. He speaks fluent English, Dutch, German, French, Spanish, and Portuguese... and prior to becoming a novelist, won over 120 awards for his work in the field of international advertising.
Urban exploration is, in its broadest sense, an exploration of man-made structures and environments. While the term can be applied to exploring living cities like New York and Chicago and Los Angeles, it can also refer to the exploration of ruins and other past cities, such as Chichen Itza or Pompeii. Some cities even have older sections that are idea for urban explorers, like the Mines of Paris (sometimes generally referred to as the Catacombs) which include a series of underground tunnels and galleries upon which the modern city is built.
People undertake urban exploration for a variety of reasons. Sometimes it's to learn about the history of a place, or to discover something new, or - in the case of exploring functional and in-use areas - to gain access to something that's otherwise difficult to reach or for which access is restricted. Common sites for urban exploration include:
Sewers and Storm Drains
Urban exploration is becoming an increasingly popular pastime, and there are untold mysteries out there in those abandoned tunnels and mines and buildings that most people have all but forgotten about. The next time you're writing a story (or even exploring a city yourself) consider looking into urban exploration opportunities in the area... you never know what you might uncover.
Until next time,
I encourage you to check out the following mystery items:
“I killed a guy once” she said, as I was just getting into my e-book, oblivious at the time that a twenty-something with over-sprayed helmet hair had taken the seat beside me, smacking her gum. At the time, my mind was buried in the newest Ken Follett book. Ordinarily, I’m the Chatty Cathy of the family but I had looked forward to the long trip to get through the two enormous books of the latest saga.
The young girl woke from a deep sleep. Not knowing why, she slowly opened her eyes only to find herself alone in a dark room lit only by the moonlight. She arose and went to her bedroom door and gently turned the knob to open it. Suddenly the house was filled with light as though the late afternoon sun was beginning to descend for the day and a thick heavy mist filled the hallway. Filled with mystification, she began to venture in the direction of the living room. Walking slowly, her short-sleeved long nightgown flowed back and forth against her slender body as her long blond hair gently whisked about her face. Upon reaching the fireplace which separated the living room from the dining room, the mist had dissipated. The quiet night was broken by a noise. She began hear the faint sound of a woman sobbing.
In the haze of all the confusion, the only thing I could make out was parts of a conversation going on between a couple of strangers. Eyes closed shut, body paralyzed, heart beating as slow as a heart can without stopping completely, and yet I could make out all these sounds going on around me.
“But we can’t just leave her here! She has a pulse so she’s obviously still alive!” a voice protested, and by the sound of it, it belonged to a male close to my age. Then came a different voice that sounded like it belonged to another male, slightly older than the first.
“Ren, we can’t just pick up every stray that we find.”
The story dated back then, when I started living in my old ancestors’ old-school building, surrendering to all of my debts. It was a place far away from the town I used to live, far away from all those cacophony of the concrete. Some call it haunted; some call it castle in the mist. But to me it’s just ‘home sweet home’.
As soon as we got to this wonderful hotel in upstate New York, my husband Nick and I had checked ourselves into our room, climbed into bed and went right to sleep.
On the next day, I opened my eyes and saw the sunlight coming in from the window which made me look at the date on my watch and smile because I knew that what they were saying about what the Maya calendar had said would happen on the Twenty-First day of December of this year was nothing more than total nonsense.
"Come on, Nick. It's time to get up.", I said while I was reaching over to his side of the bed, only to feel an empty space right next to me.
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