Forty benches. One wall. Two hundred and twelve tools on it.A maker hall, not an office. You rent a bench, not a desk. Everything on the wall is shared, labelled, and back on its hook by the time you leave, or you hear about it.
Book a benchbenches, two metres each, plywood, replaced when they're wrecked.
hours. Your fob works at four in the morning. So does the wall.
tools, shared. Counted every Monday. Missing ones get a note on the board.
wall. Not a cage, not a cupboard. If you can reach it, you can use it.
You can clamp to it, drill into it, spill on it, and sand it back. It's plywood on steel. When it's finished, we cut it up for jigs and bolt on a new top.
Same wall, same hall, same fob. The difference is how much of the bench is yours.
Leave the project out. Come back to it at midnight. Forty of these exist and thirty-six are taken.
Clear it when you leave. Cheaper, and you meet more people, which some of us call a downside.
For the job that won't fit in your kitchen. Book two days ahead. Bring ear defenders.
Written on it, in paint, at eye height. They haven't changed since the first hook went in.
Say which kind, and what you're making. We'll tell you which benches are near the extraction, which are near the window, and which one has the vice that actually holds.
Book a bench