Yeah, every time I walk those tunnels I feel like I’m in a secret city. I’ve found old ventilation shafts that turn into tiny, damp rooms—perfect for mushrooms or weird insects that have their own little world. I once saw a whole network of abandoned pipes that actually keep the tunnels cooler, like a hidden air conditioning system. Then there’s the walls themselves, covered in layers of graffiti from decades past; each layer tells a story of a different era. And the underground rail crossings where the metal rail meets concrete can get a weird, almost metallic scent that’s oddly comforting if the surface gets too noisy. The city’s underbelly is like a living archive—just waiting for someone to map it out and give it a name.