Hello everyone! I said last blog post that this one would be in the magical land of Birmingham. But I had to delay that one a bit, because I wanted to get this little place in Shropshire out of the way first, and because I'm in no rush to admit that I actually willingly went to Birmingham. On the surface todays location looks like nothing more than a rather worn down, forgotten petrol station, with a tiny abandoned bungalow next to it, and "Open" incorrectly stated in the window in friendly graffiti. But it has a story. A little while ago Neil and I went to go check it out.
According to maps from the 1800s, there used to be a cottage here, but I think it's fair to say, it's either long gone or adapted sufficiently enough into the modern building to make it indistinguishable. The current bungalow on this site doesn't look like it dates back to the Victorian era, although the cottage in question was still there in 1937. At some point it was all built on, and this lovely petrol station took its place.
There are cameras all over this place, but none of them are functioning anymore.
Google streetview shows this as a thriving business as far back as 2009 but of course, living memory from the locals take it back decades further. However by 2016, the petrol pumps were removed, the neighbouring bungalows garden was overgrown, the paint was peeling, it was incredibly run down, but a nice sign was up reassuring people that this place was still open even though it looked like the place your Tinder date would arrange to meet if they planned on chloroforming you, throwing you in the back of a van and selling you to Eastern Europe.
So what happened?
In the petrol stations glory days it sold lots of things, such as flowers, veg, and amazing pork pies. In the 1970s, they were also said to fit tyres.
The filling station was ran by a couple called Robert (sometimes Bob) and Pam, and allegedly they had been there since 1966. They were quite a popular place to stop at because their fuel prices were less than other local filling stations, and lorry drivers loved them because they wrote hand-written receipts, which meant the drivers could get food and cigarettes and claim the cost back as fuel.
It's also said to be one of the few filling stations in Shropshire that supplied Red Diesel, commonly used for construction vehicles, tractors, cranes, etc. It's not really legal to use on the roads, due to being tax exempt, and so the usage of it is considered tax evasion.
Right behind the petrol station are these railway tracks, which makes me bring up an interesting point. On one side of the neighbouring derelict bungalow is a really busy road notorious for accidents, and on the other side is a fairly active railway. I imagine the noisy location probably effects the value of the property. I've heard conflicting accounts on whether Bob actually lived here. Some say he lived in Craven Arms. Of course it's possible that he lived in both places at different times.
This door was locked, annoyingly so. It was the only part of the place that I could not get into, with the main shop and nearby bungalow being fully explorable. I also found that the out-buildings were full of old posessions.
I'm not sure why anyone moving out would leave their toaster behind.
There's a customer toilet, which curiously has a window looking into the interior of the building.
The interior of the shop is a bit of a dump. There's a bed in here for some reason, and a lot of stuff seems to have just been dropped here, but the overall layout of the shop remains the same.
It's quite surprising to see this here- It's an old price tag sticker contraption. While finding the signs, the counter, and the larger furniture here isn't at all unusual, the fact that little things like this weren't cleared out sure is curious.
Once these shelves would have been filled with snacks.
Presumably all of the cameras outside were displaying their footage on this little TV.
So what became of this place?
Well, sadly Bob passed away, and many think that this was why the business closed down. However closer research indicates that their small independent fuel outlet became bankrupt in 2011. This could be why people report him living in the bungalow and also in Craven Arms- It seems that he moved there after becoming bankrupt but prior to his passing. To add to his widows troubles, their house in Craven Arms was allegedly broken into on the day of his funeral, which is pretty vile.
I did a bit more digging and found that the bungalow and filling station were then purchased in 2012 by a couple of multi-millionaires who had used their fortune to create a Fish & Chip shop empire.
But this is Shropshire we're talking about. We can't just have a story about having the site of a former business fall into the owners of a fish & chip shop empire. No, that's too mundane. Something crazy has to happen, and it did. My research revealed that the fish & chip shop empire was built on the back of human trafficking.
The owners would regularly smuggle humans into the UK, and charge them a measely £5000 per person for doing so. And this couple of nefarious masterminds both lived in the tiny unassuming blink-and-you-miss-it village of Dorrington. That's hilariously absurd! For those of you who have never seen it, Dorrington looks like the village from Postman Pat. It's not somewhere you'd expect to be the HQ of a human trafficking operation.
Can we also just take a moment to consider the ambition of these guys? Put yourself in their position: Imagine you're smuggling humans into another country for £5000 per head, to the extent that you become a millionaire. What do you do once you're rich? Set up a chip shop empire, of course!
Most multi-millionaires get a mansion or maybe a private island. These guys, they just want to feed people.
Here's the bungalow next to the filling station, all overgrown and a shadow of its former self.
Now before we go in, I want to touch on the most recent incarnation of this place, as a hand car wash. Rumour has it the people running this car wash didn't establish their business through conventional channels. They simply set up shop in a derelict petrol station and said "Come pay us and we'll wash your car."
Rumour also has it that they were squatting in the bungalow.
Of course this is rumour and quite frankly, I'm not judging. If you can live off the grid and make money, good for you.
But the fact that they were foreign coupled with the fact that the property owner was a massive human trafficker, and then in addition to the rumour that their tenancy occupations weren't obtained through what we would consider legal channels makes me wonder if they were some of the people that the owners smuggled into the country.
Of course, this theory relies on the rumours being true. Without that, their race and the owners criminal activities remain just a coincidence, so I'm willing to say that the theory could be completely untrue, as the evidence is rumour and not necessarily factual.
But to be honest I have no opinion either way. It doesn't effect me or anyone else in a negative way. My friend, Ouija LeMay, taught me that the key to happiness is acceptance. It is what it is.
Whereas the adventurer in me says of law, in the face of any rule one must ask themselves in whose interests does the rule exist? For example, it's illegal to stab someone and steal their money, and that law exists in the interests of the victim. Whereas laws against victimless stuff like gay marriage, or cannabis, aren't really in anyones interests. One could argue that laws against cannabis are in the interests of pharmaceutical companies but thats another conversation. Urban exploring is the same in that it's entirely victimless but legally dubious. Ultimately if a bunch of people want to live in a derelict bungalow and wash cars for money, they're harming nobody. Ultimately they're just living organisms trying to survive, just like everyone else.
The house was a nice two-bedroom bungalow, with very little remaining.
There's a fancy key decoration on the door.
The house, in spite of being largely empty, still retains the cooker and a broom.
Curiously there's a fireplace in the kitchen, which is unusual.
We didn't stop in the bathroom for long, because it smelled exactly how you'd expect a bathroom to smell when people have been squatting here and not flushing. Nevertheless, it's in better condition than the toilets in some pubs and clubs.
The bedroom still had a bed frame in it, and an ironing board.
Out in the garden were a number of buildings and sheds indicative of a variety of pets.
This lamp made us think that maybe some kind of exotic animal was kept here, like a snake or something, but I'm not really an expert in reptiles.
This shed was full of mattresses. It was as if they were dumped out here when the squatters moved out, for some reason.
So what does the future have for this place? Allegedly it's not allowed to function as a filling station ever again, due to road traffic laws, or something, due to being sandwiched between a crossroads and a corner, on a busy main road notorious for accidents.
The carwash guys seem to have moved on, the human traffickers went to jail, and the poor widow of the previous owner Bob still lives in South Shropshire.
Being stuck between a busy main road and a busy railway line means the house probably doesn't have much going for it. Nevertheless, work seems to be underway at the old filling station. It seems that someone somewhere has plans.
That's all I have for today. Next time, I'm back in Shrewsbury for a rooftopping blog, and then I'll be getting on with the Birmingham blog post. In the meantime, share this blog where you want, and follow my Instagram, like my Facebook, subscribe to my Youtube and follow me on Twitter.
Thanks for reading x
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