A Place in the Country

 Woodsy recent asked our opinion on urban exploration and the ethics of sneaking around abandoned property. Back around 1997, I had the opportunity to check out an abandoned farm in Lancashire, while I was looking after a horse for a friend. I had to collect bales of haylage every couple of days and muck out and feed the horse, who had a large field with a stable nearby. Walking through the village to the field, I noticed a doorway tucked away in the trees at the edge of a small wood. After a little research, I found out that it led onto an old country estate with a large lake nearby and it was apparently completely run down.

 Round about this time, digital cameras were becoming affordable and I had managed to convince my boss at the time, that as a graphic designer, a nice digital camera was an absolute necessity for my work. So, without being too greedy, I suggested a new Sony model might be ideal, a version which saved the images to floppy disk! The Sony Digital Mavica was about the size of half a housebrick and probably weighed as much. It was pretty low resolution too, the images were saved as 640x480 at 72 dpi. But the big draw for me was it was portable and could be loaded onto a pc without any trouble. 

I borrowed the camera, and next day after tending to my equine charge, I set off to explore the hidden doorway. Nearby were the remains of a iron railing and some substantial gateposts across a bridge, leading to a drive. The gates were locked up, but the fence and railings were so dilapidated, it was simple enough to climb over. A few yards in, there was evidence of some maintenance work having been carried out on the grounds, but no sign of occupation, so I pressed on. Just beyond the treeline was the remains of a farmhouse and yard, with stables attached. 

 Pretty much everything was collapsed or falling down and nature had reclaimed most of the brickwork, nettles were chest height and brambles ran through everything.

 The majority of the building had collapsed, but parts of the stables were still recognisable and the stalls with their feed racks still stood.

 Set onto the stable wall was a simple ladder affair, allowing access to a loft, I managed to climb up high enough to get a look into the loft space, but the rafters had collapsed and the slates filled the space.

 It was an eerie place to visit, almost like a museum atmosphere, given the old architecture and rusting metalwork.

 Nothing remained of any fixtures and fittings and almost all the buildings were collapsed beyond recognition, but it was clear that it must have been quite a substantial estate.

 I managed to have a good look around the place, but the sensation of intrusion and being a tresspasser was quite overwhelming. I did hear a land rover go by at one point and had to duck out of site as it passed the edge of the estate, but it was clear the groundsman or gamekeeper was not looking for intruders.

 It was a lovely summer day and the only sound was that of the wind in the woodwork and birdsong, so I took nothing but photographs and and Kevin suggested left nothing but footprints and left after a couple of hours.

 I passed the area recently and it looks like the land has been re-developed and the building sadly demolished, but I have the photographs and the memory of that balmy summer afternoon.