| At first I go downwards, into the spacious, but  dark, damp entrance hall. Across at the other side there is a twin of the staircase  I just came down. I take it. In the gloom I keep  close to the wall feeling the decoratively modulated  surface under my hands and a squashy mix of masonry, dirt and what proves to be  the remains of a red material that used to cover the underside of the open-plan  stairs underfoot. I suddenly become aware I’m no longer contained in a passageway  but am ascending into the equivalent of a cathedral of a departed culture. Some  of the roof panels have fallen to earth and lie underfoot now, exposing the  skeletal substructure. Some remain half attached, swaying and clanking in the  wind. The exterior shell of the roof is also pierced in places, allowing a  little light in from the grey and rapidly darkening sky. At the apex of the  dome the emblematic hammer and sickle in red and gold appears to have been  spared, a passing whim of history. I am overwhelmed by the size and get something  of the feeling of what it might have been like to enter a pharaonic grave, even  if grave robbers had removed everything but the wall paintings. However this  monument, this amphitheatre I’m walking around, was opened, closed and  discarded in the space of a single decade. All around there are mosaics relating  to national and international communism. Some of the faces are defaced almost  completely and live on only as ghostly outlines. Others are merely crumbling.  Along the walls there are mosaic stones in copper or gold-backed glass. After  two failures at trying to photograph the hammer and sickle, I stand immediately  under it, extend my arms upwards and press the button. The resulting flash actually succeeds in  illuminating the emblem a little. |  |  All at once I become aware of time again, my  watch says we have only twenty minutes until the bar comes down across the  road, assuming it is still manned. Outside again, the wind is still blowing and  the rain beats down even more. I run down the six-foot wide steps. We make it  back to the barrier before the announced closing time. The pictures I show the  others make for a unanimous decision to return when the weather is better and  we have more time.  
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