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Workers stay on until the bitter end
A FAINT but distinctive aroma of yeast, hops and malt seems to linger over the deserted shell of Fountain Brewery, seeping through the concrete jungle of buildings and miles of metal pipework that once flowed with a dark brown ale which would fill millions of barrels.
Along the empty corridors, up and down the precarious metal staircases, through the underground tunnels connecting brewhouse with fermentation hall, the familiar odour is now almost all that remains of a once thriving industry.
Today an eerie stillness has descended on a sprawling site, once the beating heart of an industry which at one time boasted at least 30 breweries within a few miles of each other. Now the only sounds are the low drone of the air conditioning and the occasional swish as cleaning fluids swill around redundant pipework.
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