Just a heads up before we get to the juice- my friend Eve is running for cancer research later this month, and trying to raise some money. It's a great cause that is personal to so many of us. We all know someone who has had it or has lost someone to it, and it's definitely something I support. And it's a 5k run too, which is impressive by my standards. I can't run that! I'm spectacularly unfit! I run like mascara- Just sloppy and all over the place, often requiring a trip to the toilets to get my shit together. But I digress. If you'd like to support Eve's charity run, click here.
Now today's location I discovered when I came across an article called "Holiday Shak." My first thought was "Oh, there must be a rapper called Shak, who is releasing a Christmas album."
But I was wrong! It turned out that some guy just didn't know how to spell "Shack."
We contemplated carrying the tradition forward with similar spelling errors. I was thinking going with "Holiday Schack" on the blog title to give it that essence of angry German, while Jess could go with "Holiday Shaque" on her video to bring about some eloquent French. However, my second language is Russian for some reason, and they made it challenging to spell Shack incorrectly, because they actually have two letters for the "sh" sound, so no matter which I went with, I was doomed to a 50% success rate. Luckily, they have "ж" which makes the sound that "S" makes in words like "Pleasure." To the unknowing, it could be used in the word "Shack" but wouldn't be right because it's more commionly used instead of the letter J. That works for me!
"So, how was your holiday, Jack?"
"It was terrible. I typed the wrong location into the Sat Nav because I can't bloody spell."
The Holiday Jack has allegedly abandoned after a fire. However, the original article is quick to insist that it wasn't arson.
Some might say a little too quick...
Look at it this way- If you go into a shop to buy nail varnish remover and you just randomly say to the person behind the counter "I'm not going to drink it! It's for my nails! Seriously!" That person is at least going to raise an eyebrow.
In the past when I've found places that have been set on fire, I usually just say "There's some fire damage here," unless I know what caused the fire, then I'll specify that. I don't go into a building and point out what didn't cause a fire.
And let's be honest, I'm not expecting the most skillful cover up from someone who sets fire to things. Something tells me his day job probably doesn't involve calculating launch trajectories or removing temporal lobe tumours. But in his defence, me neither!
But no, the "official" story is that a spark from some nearby railway tracks caused the holiday schack to go up in flames. I did some research and while sparks from this particular railway line did cause a fire in some grass a few years ago, the news article didn't mention property damage.
Entry is obvious- the holiday shaque was accessed through the fire damaged roof, bringing me into what looks like a bedroom, but is probably really an old bathroom, going by the cabinet and contents. One wonders who brought a bed in here...
There appears to be a picture of a steam train on the wall. That's ironic if the trains did cause the fire.
The bathrooms stock of toilet paper survived the fire.
Entering into the lounge, the ceiling has completely collapsed and nature has taken over, making this once homely lounge look somewhat more outdoors. Presumably there once would have been a sofa in here, but that has gone, which isn't that much of a surprise- they are awfully flammable.
Sitting in a little pot on the shelf is some leftover jewelry.
Quite peculiarly the lounge leads into the rest of the holiday shlac through a sliding door, which leads into an oddly immaculate vintage kitchen, perfectly preserved...
I was cautious. With such a small gap exposed to the elements, it was possible I'd end up trapped in a kitchen with a horde of angry pigeons. I much prefer them on rooftops where they can just fly away. Luckily the local wildlife havent moved in though, beyond the lounge anyway.
It sure was nice of that chaotic, accidental fire to stay so localised...
The kitchen was a time capsule. There's something eerily vintage about it. It has a minimum of decay but what decay is here seems to be natural.
Although it kinda looks like someone was preparing to come back and make a fire in the kitchen sink.
Honestly, I was not expecting something so quaint in comparisson to the lounge. But one thing I love about doing this blog, and living my excellent life, is that I could be exploring an ugly 1960s building one day, and then just down the street there's a cellar which dates back to the 1200s. And sometimes I'm just chilling on a roof. And now here I am in some kind of domestic time warp. I never really know what to expect.
In this drawer are two points of interest- a really light-damaged photograph and a metal first aid kit.
Now the first aid case is definitely old, but I wasn't expecting it to be as old as it is. A quick bit of research into vintage first aid boxes revealed that this little thing is from the 1960s.
And look! It's still got a bunch of stuff still inside! Even mundane stuff from the 1960s has a cool vibe to it, and this also helps paint a picture of who last occupied this place. Anyone who had a holiday shaak in the 1960s is probably old now, or maybe even deceased. In which case, was this place just sitting here empty all these years until it was made accessible by a fire?
I sure hope this isn't the future of urban exploring. Can't get in? Just set the lounge on fire and climb in after the roof collapses.
Yeah, that's not what urban exploring should be about.
This is all so eerie and immaculate though.
Check this out-
Vintage tea bags and sugar. Yum!
Oh look, a fire extinguisher. What an ironic addition to the household.
The first bedroom seems to be used mainly for storage, given that it's been cluttered with furniture making the actual bed inaccessible.
Hanging on the door is all the different kinds of pigs.
This is one of those useless information books. Open it on any page and you'll find some random trivia like what happens to the baby kangaroos piss and poop if it sits in the mothers pouch all the day. Sadly nowhere in the book does it say how to spell "Shack."
Another vintage fire extinguisher.
Here's a weird, 3D plastic poster of a dog.
And here's Jess's hand, with some cologne.
The room was decorated with plates on the walls.
And here are some collectable model vehicles.
The last bedroom was somewhat more eerie. It had the same clutter and dirt that indicated that this wasn't being used anymore, but the bed was made and placed on it, clearly staged, was a cuddly dog.
Somehow the amount of, and age of, a lot of the stuff left behind is indicative that this house was being used by an older person, prior to its abandonment and the fire, whichever came first.
Here's a "chromonica" which I understand is a harmonica with a button on the side which, when pressed, creates a different range of notes than when it isn't, allowing a musician access to a wider range of
I've got a funny feeling that whoever lived here liked dogs.
Ships and trains too, and I must admit, this ornamental ship made out of shells is quite cool.
All these treasures are left behind along with kitchen appliances. I presume if there was a TV it died in the fire, but one thing that is missing is a computer, again possibly telling the age of the former occupants. Even an old box-shaped monitor would be expected. I've come across plenty of those on my travels, in places far older than this. But it seems that whoever lived here was still experiencing linear space-time rather than the passing of continuance in the form of a vertical or horizontal scroll-bar. Good for them. The generations of the future who use the internet to research the 21st Century probably won't be laughing at their mundane Twitter and Facebook posts. The rest of us are fucked.
Curiously, and adding to the suspicion that whoever lived here was elderly, there are bathroom facilities in the bedroom, which I guess are a common occurence when onesnot so good at holding it in anymore.
The toilets of a similar design to the kind you get in nuclear monitoring bunkers, albeit more dignified, as it's not just a bucket with a seat. The link above actually goes to one of my most comically controversial bunker blogs ever, due to what I thought was a throwaway line which mocked the media.
Either way, it's still better than the toilets in some pubs and clubs.
But that's all I've got. To conclude, it's pretty eerie. It's a mysterious time capsule in the middle of nowhere, accessible only because a chunk of the roof is missing, but bizarrely preserved in other areas. Is the previous occupant gone forever? Was the fire really accidental? We don't know. But it's bloody mysterious and I love it!
My next post will be over on the other blog, as it's out of Shropshire. But it's a derelict college and those are always creepy. After that, I'm back on this blog for some rooftop shots. It'll also be my 200th blog post. Happy times. In the meantime, like my Facebook page, follow my Instagram, and follow my Twitter too if you like looking at unupdated space for vast quantities of time.
Thanks for reading!
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