History
Arla is a company which dates back to 1881, when the first dairies in Sweden and Denmark were founded. Originally, Arla began as a small dairy cooperative between a number of small dairy farms. Working cooperatively with other farmers meant that milk was produced more efficiently and higher quality products could be manufactured, with the profits being shared equally between all partners. Over the years, the cooperative initiative proved successful and small local cooperatives continued to merge to create regional and, finally, national cooperatives. In 2000 the largest dairy cooperative in Denmark merged with its Swedish counterpart and Arla Foods, creating the first cross-border dairy cooperative. At present, Arla Foods, which is now owned by 12,700 farmers from Denmark, Sweden, Germany, Belgium, Luxemburg, the Netherlands and the UK, is one of the largest manufacturers in the international dairy industry. Many well-known products belong to Arla Foods, such as Lurpak, Cravendale, Anchor and Castello.
Unfortunately, Arla announced the closure of its plant at Hatfield Peverel, in Essex, at the beginning of 2016. While the plant had the capacity to process 356,000 litres of milk per day, the company’s new site in Aylesbury is capable of processing approximately 2,700,000 litres of milk per day. The Aylesbury site, which was constructed back in 2014 at a cost of £120 million, will take on the majority of Hatfield Peverel’s processing, and smaller volumes of milk will still be delivered to smaller dairies which are dependent on customer requirements. Despite the closure, Arla claims that their long-term strategy is to increase the volume of milk processed in the UK. However, there are still over 500 job losses as a result of the expansion plan; although many of the workers are represented by the union Unite, which demanded to know why the plant had to be closed, it is reported that Arla did not provide a full explanation. Yet, on a much more positive note, Arla has ensure that some employees will be transferred into new roles at their primary site, or to a logistics company. Arla has also offered to support the remaining colleagues in their search for alternative employment within Arla or elsewhere.
Our Version of Events
Once again we faced the usual dilemma before a late night explore – what to eat for tea. Even with the temptation of precisely twelve McDonalds restaurants we passed as we hunted for food, we decided to play it safe and pop to Sainsbury’s, where we purchased a loaf of bread, several tins of tuna, two cucumbers and a pot of low fat butter (not spread). There are benefits to shopping at Sainsbury’s, because you can use your nectar card, and if you shop there for three hundred years or so you’ll eventually save enough points to buy a discounted cinema ticket, a selection pack of hoover nozzles or a tin of unicorn meat. After making our purchase, we parked up outside the Arla Hatfield Peverel dairy and spent the next fifteen minutesmaking and eatingtuna and cucumber sandwiches, with their crusts neatly cut off, alongside other assorted snacks and beverages. As we’d been munching, we’d also been watching for security from the car – checking to see if anyone was doing a round.
Half an hour later, fuelled on our high protein sandwiches, we were ready to rock and roll. We’d spotted far too many security guards, so we decided to subdue them. We had no other choice. It was easy though, since we found them in the security hut gathered around a steamy pornhub video. So, using the spare cucumber we had left over, we knocked them unconscious and bound their hands and legs with cable ties which we conveniently found in a desk draw. However, just as we were about to leave to explore the rest of the factory, one of the guards yelled at us. “Aaahh, HELP!” He cried. Jesus! It suddenly occurred to us that we’d forgotten to gag them all too. Quickly fixing the problem we raced around and gagged them using some sticky tissues we found on a nearby desk, but, just as we were gagging the last guard he screamed, “don’t trust a person who pours the milk in the bowl before the cereal!” We stopped, stunned into silence at this incredible piece of advice, taking a moment to let it sink it. Then, we thanked him and gagged him anyway.
Once inside the actual complex, the sheer vastness of it perplexed us.It was much larger than we’d anticipated and there were spotlights everywhere; old 50,000 lumen ones, manned by armed guards wearing suspiciously familiar smart, grey uniforms. Doing our best to stick to the shadows, we slowly crept through the compound, being careful not to alert the guards. We had to be careful of larger marching patrols in here too, as they frogmarched back and forth across the yard. Occasionally they would yell, “Schnell! Schnell!”, but for the life of us we couldn’t fathom what it was they were smelling. With no other choice available to us, we were forced to leg it across the open ground in front of us, towards a tourist information booth on the other side. Completely and utterly lost, we were after one of those handy maps they provide.
Jean, the lady inside the booth, was extremely helpful and she provided us with the map we were looking for; she even circled the key locations we should visit. With the map in hand, and free milkman suits provided, we were ready to crack on. After thanking Jean, we made our way onto the rooftop, as the map suggested, following the little milk cartons marking out the route. It was up there that we found a stash of spades. The map had given us an important clue as to how we were supposed to infiltrate the factory. We would dig our way inside!
A strong earthy scent filled our nostrils as we dug. Mayhem and Slayaaaa were at the front, digging as fast as they could, while the rest of the group set about building supports for the tunnel. Occasionally, loose pieces of earth would fall from the ceiling and it seemed as though the entire thing was about to come down on top of us. Sweat trickled down our brows and into our eyes. It was tough going, and an ambitious plan to say the least, but in the end it seemed to work well enough. Eventually, the diggers stopped and assured us that we were beneath the main factory floor. So, we began to dig upwards, and after several minutes of hard effort we suddenly burst through the floor of the factory. One by one we climbed out of the hole, each covered in mud, and took in our surroundings. We were looking at various pipes and other bits of machinery. The smell was noticeably very stale in here, despite the fact that it looked immaculately clean.
Wasting no time, we decided to get moving and as a group found access to the next room. In there we found ourselves in a large processing plant, which looked much more like a bomb assembly unit than anything else. The entire place had an ‘only-just-been-shut’, and a ‘we’ll-be-back-tomorrow' atmosphere. There were various sealed walkways, conveyor belts, control rooms and emergency showers; presumably in case you managed to get yourself covered in milk while working. All of the doors in the place were also like fridge doors which seemed really unique at the time; no doubt the whole place was temperature controlled when the processing line was operating though, so in hindsight they fit the environment perfectly. Enthralled by the scene that surrounded us, the next few hours were spent exploring all the factories nooks and crannies and gathering as many snaps as possible.
As the early hours of the morning began to rise, we all gathered in the cafeteria area of the site, making good use of the free cookies and coffee we discovered. The milk was perhaps the best find of course. And so we sat for the next few minutes, plotting how we would escape from this incredibly well guarded factory, until we were interrupted by one of the anonymous individuals. All of a sudden something important had occurred to him: “Hold up boys, if my milk expires on April fool’s day, has it really expired?” As with the cereal incident, our minds were blown, so we sat for a while and contemplated this interesting idea.
Explored with Ford Mayhem, Slayaaaa and two anonymous individuals.
*Please note: this tale of events contains a couple of historical inaccuracies.
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Arla is a company which dates back to 1881, when the first dairies in Sweden and Denmark were founded. Originally, Arla began as a small dairy cooperative between a number of small dairy farms. Working cooperatively with other farmers meant that milk was produced more efficiently and higher quality products could be manufactured, with the profits being shared equally between all partners. Over the years, the cooperative initiative proved successful and small local cooperatives continued to merge to create regional and, finally, national cooperatives. In 2000 the largest dairy cooperative in Denmark merged with its Swedish counterpart and Arla Foods, creating the first cross-border dairy cooperative. At present, Arla Foods, which is now owned by 12,700 farmers from Denmark, Sweden, Germany, Belgium, Luxemburg, the Netherlands and the UK, is one of the largest manufacturers in the international dairy industry. Many well-known products belong to Arla Foods, such as Lurpak, Cravendale, Anchor and Castello.
Unfortunately, Arla announced the closure of its plant at Hatfield Peverel, in Essex, at the beginning of 2016. While the plant had the capacity to process 356,000 litres of milk per day, the company’s new site in Aylesbury is capable of processing approximately 2,700,000 litres of milk per day. The Aylesbury site, which was constructed back in 2014 at a cost of £120 million, will take on the majority of Hatfield Peverel’s processing, and smaller volumes of milk will still be delivered to smaller dairies which are dependent on customer requirements. Despite the closure, Arla claims that their long-term strategy is to increase the volume of milk processed in the UK. However, there are still over 500 job losses as a result of the expansion plan; although many of the workers are represented by the union Unite, which demanded to know why the plant had to be closed, it is reported that Arla did not provide a full explanation. Yet, on a much more positive note, Arla has ensure that some employees will be transferred into new roles at their primary site, or to a logistics company. Arla has also offered to support the remaining colleagues in their search for alternative employment within Arla or elsewhere.
Our Version of Events
Once again we faced the usual dilemma before a late night explore – what to eat for tea. Even with the temptation of precisely twelve McDonalds restaurants we passed as we hunted for food, we decided to play it safe and pop to Sainsbury’s, where we purchased a loaf of bread, several tins of tuna, two cucumbers and a pot of low fat butter (not spread). There are benefits to shopping at Sainsbury’s, because you can use your nectar card, and if you shop there for three hundred years or so you’ll eventually save enough points to buy a discounted cinema ticket, a selection pack of hoover nozzles or a tin of unicorn meat. After making our purchase, we parked up outside the Arla Hatfield Peverel dairy and spent the next fifteen minutesmaking and eatingtuna and cucumber sandwiches, with their crusts neatly cut off, alongside other assorted snacks and beverages. As we’d been munching, we’d also been watching for security from the car – checking to see if anyone was doing a round.
Half an hour later, fuelled on our high protein sandwiches, we were ready to rock and roll. We’d spotted far too many security guards, so we decided to subdue them. We had no other choice. It was easy though, since we found them in the security hut gathered around a steamy pornhub video. So, using the spare cucumber we had left over, we knocked them unconscious and bound their hands and legs with cable ties which we conveniently found in a desk draw. However, just as we were about to leave to explore the rest of the factory, one of the guards yelled at us. “Aaahh, HELP!” He cried. Jesus! It suddenly occurred to us that we’d forgotten to gag them all too. Quickly fixing the problem we raced around and gagged them using some sticky tissues we found on a nearby desk, but, just as we were gagging the last guard he screamed, “don’t trust a person who pours the milk in the bowl before the cereal!” We stopped, stunned into silence at this incredible piece of advice, taking a moment to let it sink it. Then, we thanked him and gagged him anyway.
Once inside the actual complex, the sheer vastness of it perplexed us.It was much larger than we’d anticipated and there were spotlights everywhere; old 50,000 lumen ones, manned by armed guards wearing suspiciously familiar smart, grey uniforms. Doing our best to stick to the shadows, we slowly crept through the compound, being careful not to alert the guards. We had to be careful of larger marching patrols in here too, as they frogmarched back and forth across the yard. Occasionally they would yell, “Schnell! Schnell!”, but for the life of us we couldn’t fathom what it was they were smelling. With no other choice available to us, we were forced to leg it across the open ground in front of us, towards a tourist information booth on the other side. Completely and utterly lost, we were after one of those handy maps they provide.
Jean, the lady inside the booth, was extremely helpful and she provided us with the map we were looking for; she even circled the key locations we should visit. With the map in hand, and free milkman suits provided, we were ready to crack on. After thanking Jean, we made our way onto the rooftop, as the map suggested, following the little milk cartons marking out the route. It was up there that we found a stash of spades. The map had given us an important clue as to how we were supposed to infiltrate the factory. We would dig our way inside!
A strong earthy scent filled our nostrils as we dug. Mayhem and Slayaaaa were at the front, digging as fast as they could, while the rest of the group set about building supports for the tunnel. Occasionally, loose pieces of earth would fall from the ceiling and it seemed as though the entire thing was about to come down on top of us. Sweat trickled down our brows and into our eyes. It was tough going, and an ambitious plan to say the least, but in the end it seemed to work well enough. Eventually, the diggers stopped and assured us that we were beneath the main factory floor. So, we began to dig upwards, and after several minutes of hard effort we suddenly burst through the floor of the factory. One by one we climbed out of the hole, each covered in mud, and took in our surroundings. We were looking at various pipes and other bits of machinery. The smell was noticeably very stale in here, despite the fact that it looked immaculately clean.
Wasting no time, we decided to get moving and as a group found access to the next room. In there we found ourselves in a large processing plant, which looked much more like a bomb assembly unit than anything else. The entire place had an ‘only-just-been-shut’, and a ‘we’ll-be-back-tomorrow' atmosphere. There were various sealed walkways, conveyor belts, control rooms and emergency showers; presumably in case you managed to get yourself covered in milk while working. All of the doors in the place were also like fridge doors which seemed really unique at the time; no doubt the whole place was temperature controlled when the processing line was operating though, so in hindsight they fit the environment perfectly. Enthralled by the scene that surrounded us, the next few hours were spent exploring all the factories nooks and crannies and gathering as many snaps as possible.
As the early hours of the morning began to rise, we all gathered in the cafeteria area of the site, making good use of the free cookies and coffee we discovered. The milk was perhaps the best find of course. And so we sat for the next few minutes, plotting how we would escape from this incredibly well guarded factory, until we were interrupted by one of the anonymous individuals. All of a sudden something important had occurred to him: “Hold up boys, if my milk expires on April fool’s day, has it really expired?” As with the cereal incident, our minds were blown, so we sat for a while and contemplated this interesting idea.
Explored with Ford Mayhem, Slayaaaa and two anonymous individuals.
*Please note: this tale of events contains a couple of historical inaccuracies.
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It's normally the memory card that gets left behind 
