Coffin House

(Disclaimer: Joking aside, I fully understand the risks/dangers involved in these adventures and do so in the full knowledge of what could happen. I don't encourage or condone and I accept no responsibility for anyone else following in my footsteps. Under UK law, trespass without force is a civil offence. I never break into a place, I never photograph a place that is currently occupied, as this would be morally wrong and intrusive, I never take any items and I never cause any damage, as such no criminal offences have been committed in the making of this blog. I will not disclose location or means of entry.  I leave the building as I find it and only enter to take photographs for my own pleasure and to document the building.

It's been a while since I've done an abandoned house, largely due to them having mostly similar layouts, and not much that really sets them apart from each other. There is an eerie appeal in the houses that are, or at least were, time capsules. However once they're "discovered" and get media attention they don't tend to last long. These days "Red Dress Manor" is red dressless, and there are more tragic stories, such as "Flowerpatch", which I nicknamed Christmas Cottage. The only reason I can disclose the real name now is because it's been demolished after a guy faked finding human bones and called the police for Youtube hits. We lost a gem with that place. It was cute and creepy, a little like Maggie Thatchers grand daughter.

But the thing is, abandoned houses were peoples homes once, and often the former resident has passed away with nobody to take care of their belongings, which is sad. An abandoned house is essentially a grave site, or a memorial. This is their life summed up and immortalised as nature slowly takes it back. They're deserving of respect. So often now I tend to give them a miss, in favour instead of less intrusive things, like abandoned theme parks and Nazi bases. What drew me here were the coffins. Lots and lots of coffins. The dark tourist in me is postively giddy.

And put down your pitchforks! We visited this place before the current lockdown. Not that anyone cares about lockdown anymore anyway. It's like as soon as we found out we had the highest death count in Europe, the British population collectively said "Fuck it."

Before we get to the coffins, let's check out the house itself. It's pretty trashed! The windows are all broken and the upper floor threatens to come crashing down if I so much as sneeze. But the majority of it is natural decay rather than vandalism.

It's believed to have been occupied by a coffin maker, but as is often the case with abandoned homes, there's no concrete facts and no known reason why the house has ended up abandoned. All we can do is speculate based on what's left behind.

 There's a single mattress over there.

This is quite a nice little sofa. 

 The cellar is always the forbiden fruit of any abandoned house, second only to the fridge. Obviously it's dangerous to check it out, especially in a house that's about as stable as Carole Baskins second marriage, but I know that if I don't check it out it'll bug me afterwards.

It's delightfully creepy down here. The single hanging lightbulb and the barred up coal shutes make it look like a small dungeon. 

Heading back upstairs...

In this room, the real structural instability of the house was made apparent. Hanging down around me were bits of garments, dropping through the floorboards in the bedrooms above.

Oddly there's a bed in the front room.

And look! Here's some porn! Some might find this shocking but I don't see the big deal.
Sex is a big part of being human. You do get those judgemental types who will be like "This is disgusting" like they've never played Downstairs DJ themselves, but I'm more open minded. People are people.

There do seem to be a lot of beds on the ground floor. It's almost like they were in the process of moving things out and then just stopped.

There's a cute little TV sitting at the window.

Moving on upstairs, the stairs had even more porn crumpled up on it, but also a teddy.

See, now this suggests that the occupant either had kids or was quite sentimental. If they did have children then presumably that means there's still family out there, which only makes this house that much more mysterious. Why is it like this? Why weren't any of the posessions secured or taken away?

The upstairs is pretty dilapidated, and I had no doubt at all that one wrong step could bring me down to ground level faster than I'd like. Nevertheless I managed to peek inside some of the rooms.

Moving away from the house, it was the outbuildings and the garden that caught my attention more. It was out here that we found all of the coffin-related paraphernalia.

But much to my delight, there was a privy! A privy is basically an old outdoor toilet. Nowadays toilets can flush, so they're welcome in the house now. The privy... well, see for yourself.

Still in better condition than the toilets in some pubs and clubs.

These are pretty cool. They're coffin handles!

This is a coffin roller, also used to transfer a coffin from one place to another.

This, I assume, is the company vehicle. Now it also needs a coffin.

Here's a vintage telephone.

And here's more adult content!

Moving on to the out-buildings...

Here's a top hat and some boots.

This is pretty cool. These are cremation application forms!

There was also a fridge in the barn and because I just can't help but punish myself occasionally, I took a peek inside...

Stupid of me. Never, ever look in the fridge.

Hmm... Yum!

In this case, disgusting as it may be, I don't regret looking in the fridge so much, because there's a wasp nest in it! How cool is that? It's like a little hive of Boris Johnsons!

It appeared to be inactive, so it was likely made the previous summer.

There's a very vintage-looking bassinet on top of the drawers.

But right at the back of the garden, next to the remains of a collapsed shed, we found the titular coffins.

 

They aren't exactly in tip-top condition. I'd feel sorry for the pallbearers at my funeral if I got carried in one of these, because I'd probably come crashing through the bottom of it.

At least it would be a memorable event! You should totally come to my funeral. It'll be a great party!

Anyway, naturally my accomplice for this adventure, Tamsin, who you might remember from my Dudley Tunnel blog, couldn't help but get into one of these. I tried too, but I wouldn't fit. All of the coffins are woman-sized, and I'm over six feet tall.

But don't worry, this isn't disrespecting any dead. Evidently the coffins themselves were never actually used. In fact, there are plenty of pictures online of other dark tourists getting their photos in these exact same coffins... although Tamsin is almost definitely the only one to choose the upside-down one. My friends are pretty eccentric. They pretty much have to be to keep me company without blowing their brains out.

Anyway, that's all I've got for today. Coffin House continues to rot away in the countryside, and the coffins rot along with it. I'm sure they'll host a few more photos before they degrade beyond recognition, but the future for this house is pretty bleak.

Next time I'm checking out another quirky abandoned house and then I'm checking out a cinema. In the meantime, follow my Instagram, Like my Facebook and follow my Twitter.
Thanks for reading!