The unknown
In the middle of the mess in my drawer, where i keep notes about places to visit, found on articles on the net, or thanks to indications given by friends, i had one that said “Farmitalia, via Bezzi, near De Angeli”. All i had to do was to go there and see why i have written such note. The street is part of a beltway, but the stretch with this name is veri short. So i shouldn’t have a hard time finding the abandoned area. Instead i have: there in not one single building with a clear aura of desolation. But there is an open wide gate, and inside i can’t see a breathing soul; junk on the ground shows little care; dirty windows, althought not broken, present an unpopulated scenary. On the wall there are security cameras, but i can’t tell if they are working. Apparently there are no obstacles and timidly i advance few steps inside the property, with the fear of who senses that the security cameras are actually machine guns, ready to blow against me the whole load of bullets. Now they are behind me and i have no intention to turn around, pretending i don’t really care: the gate is open, nobody comes towards me, it could be i’m just lost and looking for informations... i think while i go on. On the top of the building there’s a graffiti, that i learnt to know by now: Noce. How many times i’ve seen it! Mr Noce is very busy going around the city! This makes me think that it could be an abandoned area, cause a graffiti inside a private active property can’t be justified. I get closer to the building, searching for a peek between cracks, but all the windows are to high and i can’t reach them. So i stop to listen. If my eyes deceive me, hearing will help. In a warehouse i should hear workers sing or curse, i should hear machineries in function, or at least the air conditioner vibrate. None of this. A 100 meters in front of au there’s an indication sign, rusty and old, but our sharp sight helps us get some letters. We both read the same thing: the mortuary. Shiver long our backs... where the hell are we? From our position it doesn’t look like a hospital. The imagination starts flying and hypothesis take place. By the time we are still convinced we are in Farmitalia we imagine experiments on humans, which sometimes can also have a bad end... a chemycal industry with no scruples, ready to kidnap the unfortunates who went beyond the gate left open on purpose. I don’t know it’s because he’s tired or afraid, but Alessandro keeps telling me that this place is not so interesting inviting me to go away. I insist i want to find out something more, at least untill i don’t see strange people coming toward me with white suits, like the ones used in microelectronics companies, where all there’s left free are bloody eyes. I can just see them with anaesthetic harpoons in their hands, ready to sedate and kidnap us. All of this thanks to a closed warehouse and the sign for the mortuary. There are some hoistes, or at least this is what a sign says on them: they are rusty and old, and the sign, recent and well kept in a plastic cover, invites not to use them, because not safe. We get closer to the sign for the mortuary to check if that building is still working, hoping it isn’t, feraring to see zombies come out from every corner. We find another sign: the mortuary chapel. I can just see a far relative, carefully laying on purple velvet, with nice clothes, with candles all around him and old ladies praying. It’s only my imagination, cause i’ve never had the courage to look someone’s dead face. The shivers along my back get thicker. Alessandro shows me a carpark not to far from where we are, full of cars, and he keeps insisting this area isn’t abandoned. I start convincing myself, but i wnat to go on anyway, and find out what it is. Other buildings are being restored. It’s a good occasion to infiltrate and document a living building, at least untill somebody stops me. This is urban exploration too.
