I’m on Teignmouth Pier, but it’s inland, surrounded by a river and a low floodplain. I cycle across its grassy surface, and around the massive roots of trees that anchor it to the land.
To get off the pier, we have to squeeze through a tiny grate in the floor. I won’t fit, so I go in search of stairs or a lift. I wander dark abandoned rooms. There’s no other way down. I realise I’ll have to climb down the outside of the pier.