People travel to the Chernobyl Exclusion Zone for all sorts of reasons. Just as in the game, there are invisible dangers here the radiation levels can vary by tenfold or more over the space of less than a metre (it's one of the reasons I'm mapping this place).
A recognisable urban space made unfamiliar by the blurring of the boundaries of forest and city. The real Pripyat is a weird place uncanny in the proper sense of being unhomely. I had been subconsciously recalling those moments and half expected something to leap out at me from the trees or, simply by moving to the wrong position, to trigger some invisible threat. More similar still are the second and third Stalker games in which invisible anomalies require the use of an anomaly detector, which draws all your attention to the corner of the screen where the small device helps determine if what otherwise looks benign might actually pose a threat. There too I slowly made my way across this space, spare bolt in hand, watching and listening for hidden dangers.
Only the last time was whilst playing S.T.A.L.K.E.R. It's not that I'm alone, it's that I've been alone here before. I try to rationalise my way out of this fear – I tell myself the worst thing that's likely to happen is the embarrassment of trying to cobble together an explanation in Russian for what I'm doing if Pripyat's police guard wanders by.īut there's more to my unease than this. Occasionally I anxiously look up and scan the thick line of trees and shrubs that border this area and break line of sight with the nearby ruined buildings. I should be used to this space now, but I feel uneasy. This is my last research trip to the Chernobyl Exclusion Zone, the end of six months spent tagging along with tour groups and later helping as a tour guide. Looking down at the Geiger counter in my hand I slowly make my way back and forth across the area, taking readings at regular intervals. No one else is in sight, as I've been left here alone to get on with some measurements. Now an expanse of cracked concrete, the iconic rusting ferris wheel stands behind me. I am standing in the middle of Pripyat in what was intended to be the site of the 1986 May Day festivities.
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