Tiff Oben & Helene Roberts used the Situationist strategy of navigating Swansea town centre using a map of the city's Polish twin town Bydgoszcz. The artists stopped passersby to ask directions to well known landmarks, offering the map of Bydgoszcz to those willing to direct the way. By using the wrong map the urban landscape was made strange, the artists became lost but also discovered new ways to navigate around Swansea town. Referring back to cold war surveillance strategies of Soviet Poland Oben & Roberts documented their journey using covert spy equipment concealed upon their persons.

With spy camera handbag and a suitcase of photographs we leave the train.

The wind greets us as we leave central station, wrapping us in its cold embrace. We huddle into our coats and enter the city hotel. We pick up a map of Swansea and place our acetate map of Bydgoszcz over the top. We plant a photograph of Bydgoszcz in the hotel:

"The choice was our to make…"

Matching central station to central station we walk for 1 mile in a southerly direction. We divert neither left nor right but keep to the map and keep to the street. 

Hungry we refer to our map and find a bar. Bohemian in style, we take a table in front of the burning fires and place a photograph of Bydgoszcz on the mantle:

"Memories are a second chance at happiness."

Our first direct and positive disruption with a barman from Hull - what is he doing so far from home? We direct him to Bydgoszcz and leave a photograph in a broken picture frame with the details of a Polish lunch we once ate.

We head westwards through a salubrious passage, furtively posting a photograph in a brass letterbox as we go:

"Meet me at 3 at Wiseman's Bridge Inn."

We follow a woman in brown velour tracksuit who leads us to the Catholic church. We leave a photograph as mass is said: 

"And all the bats and owls from the church bells started calling."

We continue onwards following the map towards the tourist information office, passed a Byzantine icon of Mary, leaving a photograph on a notice board:

"We'd drawn a blank and my mood was darkening…"

In the tourist office they had not seen or heard our twin…

Out onto the street and into the arms of a Polish street vendor, drunk on vodka, smoking into his wares, correcting our pronunciation in a way we could not emulate. We gave him a photograph:

"In search of a cheap hotel I suddenly saw her." 

He gave us a pitying smile, we shook hand and headed onwards now in a northwesterly direction and through the main shopping area crowded with people and clowns and musicians. We plant a picture on a pink moped:

"You are obliged to identify yourself. 

And hurry on.

Northwards now and away. Past the gallery and the old now deserted hotel:

"Factories and warehouses sprung up like a rash of blackened toadstools."

 

Into the Polish café - no coffee, only a broken-down machine and strange foodstuffs. The woman in the shop helped us into the Polish language, laughing and correcting us as we copied her exactly to our own ears, but not to hers. We leave without coffee or understanding, handing her a photograph:

"It's not long back and it's certainly worth it."

Double backing, east, south, south, south past:

"Buildings so long derelict and cobwebbed."

Across busy roads directing cars outwards and away. Past a statue of the city's one true hero and into his hand a photograph:

"If only I could establish the balance…"

To a tower block with dubious lift we are uncertain will ever release us. From the sky top panorama we survey our path, map our root., we drink wine, we leave a photograph:

"I belong down here underground beyond reproach."

Feet blistered - we have walked six hours in heels. One final burst we ask directions back of a man steadying himself against the pub we find him outside - without so much as a blink at our map he directs us away to the station.

Film spent, photographs exhausted, words trailing behind, we can walk no more.

We know Bydgoszcz like the back of our hands.

We are thoroughly lost in Swansea.