I'm finally on vacation, in Valencia, and can finish the story. The previous one left off with us reaching the fence at the steam train graveyard. The fence wasn't very stable; it rattled and wobbled at the top. Nevertheless, Zvarg A and I climbed over it just like that. Zvarg B wanted to be original, found a nearby tree, and climbed up that. Makes sense, we did descend from monkeys after all.
Thick bushes grew behind the fence, which calmed the nerves on the one hand. On the other hand, it was a pity to scratch my beautiful packable down jacket from Uniqlo against the bushes. To the left, a light was on in the factory building, so we sneaked across the asphalt path like bad guys in a cartoon. We successfully made a dash to the first train, where we wandered around for about ten minutes. The train was pretty thoroughly gutted: seats, doors, and sometimes even windows were ripped out, and anything of value had been hauled away. It was clear we weren't the first ones here — wrappers, empty beer cans, and other garbage typical of homo sapiens.
While walking around, we heard voices: one female and two male. We froze like startled deer and spaced out for a couple of minutes. Then we crept over to the wall of a huge hangar, trying to find an entrance. We walked along it, pushing our way through the bushes, until we found a convenient little window where some kind souls had already stacked up bricks. We climbed into a sketchy room packed with construction debris, right in the center of which grew a massive plant sprout, about chest-high. The ceiling in the room was in a sad state, with some of its parts and boards hanging down, and I, naturally, slightly banged my head. But there is no rest for the crazy, and we push on. We step out of the tiny rooms, and above us stretches the massive grid of the hangar roof with jagged glass and rafters sticking out. It looks very imposing, especially against the dark night sky. It's a little scary that all this beauty might crash down on our heads, but what can you do.
Inside there's another train, and we check that one out too. The stairs in the cars wobble, the steps have rotted through. It's a dangerous gig, poking around a place like this at night without a hard hat or a medical kit. Nevertheless, we make it to the far end of the hangar and realize we definitely shouldn't go outside — there's some company transport parked there, perfectly functional and modern. But right behind us is finally that famous steam locomotive with a red star on its nose.
Impressive!