The 200 km/h find.

There’s something about driving too fast on the Autobahn, then taking an exit you didn’t plan, just to see what lies behind the guardrails. I managed to catch a glimpse of something, but at 200 Km/h, seeing anything becomes a blur.

So you take the plunge, circle back and come upon a graffiti sanctuary of sorts. Hot, humid and still very alive. The suspicion becomes a reality. We pulled up to an old structure, half-forgotten. Rust creeping on metal. Cracked windows. Scraps of concrete and weeds colonising the edges. And suddenly it’s not just a building — it’s a cathedral of chaos, full of colour and tags and faces.

The building isn’t huge. Looks like it was once industrial, and now it’s both violent and gentle in the way decay is eating at it.

The roof sags in places. The floor is littered with broken glass, old cables, and ceramic pellets, which made us believe it once was a brick factory. Rusted machinery sitting like ghosts. Some doors ajar. In one room, daylight only filters in through busted windows; in another, a gaping hole in the wall frames the Autobahn in the far distance — traffic racing by, oblivious.

We explored and took pictures. Time flew, and we were back to being just kids in an uncommon playground. We took thousands of pictures, laughed, and enjoyed the abandoned factory.

Maybe nobody should hide these places. Maybe the decay, the textures, the wild creativity are more honest than slick murals or curated galleries. Next time you’re driving fast, glance off the offramp. Maybe there’s a building waiting to be found.