What's up, chums? A while ago I said that I wanted to power through some small blogs before writing about something big and industrial on my travel blog. Over on my travel blog I just did an abandoned spaceship so I dare say things are a tad more interesting over there. I actually photographed this house on the same day I photographed this other house, so really this blog should have been done back then. I don't know why I didn't. I guess I'm just shit.
This house probably doesn't look like much to other urbexers (unless some youtuber on a slow revenue week decides that it's haunted) but to us it was pretty nostalgic. This house is very close to where I grew up, and my brother and I used to come here when we were children.
It should surprise nobody really that I had a rather unpleasant upbringing. You don't get a sense of humour as sexy as mine when your parents love you and your home life is healthy. So my siblings and I ended up rather scattered as we navigated complicated situations with undeveloped frontal cortexes, and after I left the family home I didn't see my brother again for about fifteen years. Whereupon we decided to visit the village where we had grown up, and check out some of the old haunts.
The house is quite cute, but empty. There's one room downstairs dominated by this huge fireplace. Just think how many home invaders you could dispose of in this bad boy.
There's also this very cute little nook next to the fireplace, with a cupboard at the back of it.
But rather annoyingly I cannot find any history on this house at all. It's not just annoying. It's embarrassing at this point. I love to go dive down a rabbit hole of research. I love to uncover the names of former occupants and tell their story as far back as I can go, and I've been pretty good at it. I've made grown men cry by digging up census data that debunks their clickbait, something I truly believe in, since the dead aren't here to defend themselves against the brain-rot content of the modern iNfLuEnCeR.
But in this case, there's nothing to be found. It probably doesn't help that the name is Welsh and translates to "Big Farm." Hardly the most unique name, but I guess nobody ever thought an eccentric researcher might want to differentiate this Big Farm from the ten billion other big farms between here and Bala.
Given its small size, I'm guessing it was once accommodation for a farms employee rather than the actual farm house itself, and that it was left empty when it was no longer needed.
It's time to head upstairs.
When I was a child, there was a huge set of deer antlers up here, which we thought was pretty awesome back in the day.
Alas, the antlers are long gone.
But despite that, I still think this little house is kinda cool. It only has two rooms, but it would have been quite cosy back in the day, with the fire going and everything. With an added modern-but-tasteful extension for the kitchen and bathroom, it would be quite nice to stay in.
And that's about it.
I don't have any history on it, but sometimes we just have to swallow our pride and appreciate something for what it is. This was someone's home once. They woke up here every day, went to work on the farm, came back and ate dinner, and lived out a relatively peaceful existence here in the countryside, free of the distractions of modern society. And now they're gone and this house is all that's left.
I've got nothing much else to say, but this was only going to be a small blog anyway, so I'm content.
My next one will be a pretty huge industrial bonanza on the other blog, and I'm really looking forward to it. That place has been demolished since my photos were taken, so in many ways it's paying tribute to an awesome urbex spot that isn't with us anymore.
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