The cut-out section in the louvers of the ventilation shaft was so small that almost all of my outer clothing had to be removed to squeeze through. Throwing mountains of garbage with our feet, we squeezed into a narrow pipe. Having overcome it, we went into one of the rooms of the bomb shelter, where the club was once located.
Partially flooded, but nevertheless atmospheric, we explored for a long time. It took the most time to take pictures from different premises, which are presented below: It was the front door. Now its doors are welded along the seam and it has been impossible to get inside through it for several years.