Rooftops of Shrewsbury: Pride Hill, Then and Now

(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 leave the building as I find it and only enter to take photographs for my own pleasure and to document the building.

This is just a quick rooftop blog.

It's been nine years since I started doing silly things and going to silly places, and much to everyones disapointment, I'm not dead yet. I've been neglecting the local blog though, to work on my international one. In fact I recently published my first blog post that wasn't in the UK. Best of all, I funded the trip through the blog. In fact I renewed my passport solely on funds generated by people leaving negative comments. It's my way of taking the negative and turning it into a positive. I simply decided that when someone wants to piss on my picnic, I'll just get a bigger picnic. The truth is, I do what I do for my own enjoyment, and it's never at anyones expense. Its great to be at a point where I can do it internationally.

Meanwhile back in Shrewsbury our most-traveled central street, Pride Hill, has had some cosmetic changes, and while everyone was complaining about it, I realised that with my nine years of rooftop photographs, I suddenly have a bunch of historic shots that show the town as it was. And since people are big on nostalgia, I thought I'd showcase a few rooftop views of Pride Hill as it is now alongside rooftop views of Pride Hill from 2010-2012.

The criticism that was aimed at the Pride Hill revamp was both confusing and hilarious. Some people seemed to think the world was ending. Among the many complaints were that the bins were too close to the seats, and also that the seats were too low down, and had sharp edges, so people would get injured. So I might as well start with this photo of people writhing in agony on Pride Hill-

Here's a shot from the same location, a few years prior-

You know, I actually prefer the new look, with the grey floor rather than the red brick. I understand the comparison in the pictures isn't perfect. The truth is, I very rarely go rooftopping during the day anymore. It's far too likely that I'll be spotted during the day. I'm six foot two and look like a Disney villain!

Having said that, I took this one recently. It depicts the front of the Pride Hill Shopping Centre and a bunch of people getting on with their day.

Hmm... One thing that does occur to me is that between 2010 and 2019, all of the anti-pigeon spikes have gone.

These shots are great. I pretty much got them from almost the exact same position, and look, the bottom one has Maccies in it!

If you notice on the "before" pictures, Pride Hill has a couple of circles in the brickwork that mark where these big circular brick flowerbeds used to be. I'm not sure why those were taken away. They were quite nice. Sadly they were taken away before I started taking photographs from the rooftops so I don't have any old shots of them.

As you can see, the curved benches that people said were too sharp are replacing pointy hexagonal ones.

I actually really love the seating area beneath these trees. I haven't got an old shot from this angle, but I do have one from the roof of Waitrose across the street.

I wonder what they did with that lamp...

Oh, there it is!

This shot from 2010 shows Waitrose as a big derelict Burger King, and Burton where Cotswold is.

And in this shot, from around 2011 shows the Burger King being fixed up to become Waitrose, walled up from the world and looking a bit hideous. Similarly run down is the hexagonal bench, which has had an entire chunk of it removed.

An additional little something that I had not noticed, because it's pretty insignificant, is that in my rooftop shots from 2010, Barclays actually has "Barclays" written on it in big blue lettering.

Why was that taken down?

By far my most favourite shot to get of Pride Hill has always been overlooking the entrance to the Darwin Shopping Centre, and I've been up to get that same shot numerous times over the years.

As it appears today.

As it appeared about a year or so ago, maybe.

As it appeared prior to Waitrose and Cotswold opening.

And here's how it looked in the Christmas of 2010. This was before they had a giant reindeer called Shrewdolf, and instead stuck a statue of a creepy snowman there to smile menacing at everyone to faciliate a fast digestion of their Christmas dinner.

To conclude, I think the changes to Pride Hill aren't that bad. I think a lot of people are change resistant, and ultimately this leads only to making oneself miserable because we live in a world of impermanence. Pride Hills flooring aside, these pictures show the changes of businesses occupying these buildings, the completely missed removal of the Barclays sign, and much else that the keen of eye will see. That's not to say that it isn't fun to look back with nostalgia. There are future generations who won't know it as it was, in much the same way I have no memory of it before it was pedestrianised. I'm pretty fortunate to have been doing this over a period of time, and to live in the era where such things can be documented.

Next blog post is a cold war facility in Germany, and then after that it will be a nuclear bunker. In the meantime, share the blog, like my Facebook page, Follow my Instagram, and Follow my Twitter.
Thanks for reading!

St Johns Hole

(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 leave the building as I find it and only enter to take photographs for my own pleasure and to document the building.

Recently I was made aware, via a journalist on Twitter, of a subterranean chamber in Shrewsbury that had been hidden for centuries, but was accidentally uncovered by some road works.
As you can imagine, I was suddenly twice my size. Nothing gets me excited quite like news of a secret underground structure that I can have a nose around in, providing nobody catches me.
News that the council, in their infinite wisdom, wanted to fill it in with concrete gave me a sense of urgency like no other, and even though we live in a town notorious for flooding, even though our summer has consisted of ten minute blips before a day or two of rainfall, I made it my priority to take a look.

I've named it St Johns Hole, because it's on a street named St John's Hill,

Its wordplay but watch as it offends religious bigots, as I come inside St Johns Hole!

The exterior photo was taken during the day, but it was under the cover of darkness that I sought to access St Johns Hole. It was actually pouring down with rain when I got here, which is hardly ideal, but I wasn't sure I'd get the chance again. I had to do this while the opportunity was there. It just meant that slipping into St Johns Hole was going to be a pretty sloppy experience.

It was dark, and I couldn't even see into the hole, nevermind determine whether it was something I could climb back out of. I had to just run on blind faith, and drop in. Some might say that's brave, that would be largely inaccurate. I'm not brave, I'm just stupid and lucky.

Here's the interior of the hole, looking out.

It's a bit of an architectural mishmash down here, the ceiling clearly made out of Georgian bricks, but the walls obviously medieval. This isn't so surprising. By the Georgian era the medieval ruins of the town walls had outlived their purpose and would have been plundered for building supplies. However, according to Victorian maps, these medieval blocks are right on the site of one of the old town gates. My source speculated that this was the remains of Wheeler Gate or Quarry Gate. However, a quick peek at the old Victorian maps of Shrewsbury shows this area as the Site of Shoplatch Gate. This makes sense, given that the street beyond it does lead onto Shoplatch.

I'm not entirely sure why one side is painted black, but that is the side that faces the nearest house, which was built in 1766. The towns archives allegedly have a painting of this house from that era which depict it next to Wall Lane, which was a little path that used to run along the inside of the old town walls.

Its generally speculated that this is the remains of Wall Lane, built over in Georgian times. Allegedly beneath the muddy ground, one can find the original cobbled floor.

 The second chamber is a lot narrower, but it also dispenses with the medieval blocks. It is further away from the site of the Shoplatch gate though.

 At the far end, black paint has drawn a smiley face with eerie crosses for eyes on what appears to be a bricked up doorway. Right next to that is a set of stairs leading upwards. Presumably once they would have led to street level, but now there's a pavement in the way.

But what are these chambers, and what were they for? I want to say that they are the cellar of a building that is no longer extant, but Victorian maps don't make any mention of these chambers, or any building that might have stood above them. Whatever this was, it was forgotten about by the 1800s.

Should this be filled in? It's worth noting that it's underneath the pavement, not the road, and my source journalist had an interesting idea of covering it with glass so that tourists could see it. I personally would like to see it preserved.  But whatever its ultimate fate, I think what's important is that it gets documented while it is open. It's tedious to access, and the scramble out was hilariously lacking in grace, but I couldn't just let it go.

To conclude, it's amazing that some mundane road works have uncovered such a secret. Yes, it's small, and it's true purpose might have been something perfectly ordinary and uninteresting like an ice house or a wine cellar, but the fact remains that it was underground and nobody knew about it. Doesn't it just tease the imagination? What else is beneath our feet, waiting to be discovered?

Thats it for this blog post. My next one will be a derelict school on my international blog. It might even be two schools. However, I'm also playing with the idea of doing then/now rooftop views of Shrewsbury seeing as it's almost been ten years since I started doing this, and I want to celebrate the fact that I haven't died. In the meantime, Like my Facebook page, Follow my Instagram and Follow my Twitter.

Thanks for reading!

Rooftops of Shrewsbury: The Bingo Hall again

(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.)

A quick heads up- In Shrewsbury, my chums at Adorn, the body art place on Mardol, are accepting donations on behalf of Cuan Wildlife Rescue, who take in injured creatures and nurse them back to health. Donations are accepted in the form of cat food, dry dog food, kitten biscuits, stuff like that, and if this is something that you want to help with, then contact them on 01743 343330.

Meanwhile, today we're celebrating. It's my 200th blog post, and it's the rooftop of the Bingo Hall again. I've been up there before, but given that I've grown and changed since then, and also given that I wasn't too happy with the blog post last time, I decided that it needed covering again.

The bingo hall is important, because in Shrewsbury I've climbed pretty much everywhere- St Chads, the Market Tower, St Julians, the parade shopping centre. But for some reason, we never could figure out how to climb that damn Bingo Hall, and to me that's hilarious. Was this my unconquerable foe? Not a church spire, but a bingo hall. Needless to say, getting up there scratched a major itch, and it was kinda fitting that when we did finally do it, it fell coincidentally on my 100th blog post, and it's almost a complete coincidence that my return visit would mark my 200th. But by almost I mean, I did cheat a bit. It was a complete coincidence that this one was going to be my 199th blog post, but for the sake of synchronicity, and to round things off, I bumped my McDonalds shoot with Katie up a bit on the schedule.

Having once more scaled the bingo hall, it's time to celebrate another hundred adventures on the blogs. Check out the view!

For any who don't know, those streaks of light are traffic. The pictures are taken on a long exposure, and anything thats in motion will come across as a blur. The individual cars tend to be in and out of shot before the shot has finished being taken, but the photons emitted by the headlamps have already made their way into the camera, such is the speed of light.

Up there's the castle.

For me the whole rooftopping thing came about as a coping mechanism, although my studies into PTSD suggest that it might in fact be an adrenaline addiction. But whatever the subconscious machinations of my brain, I very much know that this particular means of escapism was due to disassociation. I'm completely lacking in a feeling of belongingness. It's not so bad. The truth is, to "fix me" would rob me of my quirks and eccentricities. And that for me is an unacceptable nightmare scenario. I'd never have climbed anything cool, I'd just be sat at home reading about other people doing similar things and, heaven forbid, watching Love Island.
It's very convenient, being eccentric. It allows me to be who I want to be. I'm quite happy to admit that I'm bonkers, and so when I'm climbing a building, or painting my arse blue for some reason, the world simply says "Oh that's just what he does."
When you accept your weirdness, the world conforms to you.

My mind works very unconventionally. It's well documented by medical professionals, but so far my refusal to go for the full pharynxal rope burn has kept them from offering any form of insight beyond putting emotions into a chemical restraint, which isn't for me. When I allowed that to happen, I became a shadow of myself. I like my emotions. The enjoyable ones, and the others. I don't want to call them good or bad. They're valid, even when they are unpleasant to experience, and I think self acceptance is really something one needs first and foremost. It's the foundation of self love. If you can't love yourself, at least accept yourself. Self acceptance promotes contentment, and makes you invulnerable to those who seek to pull others down to feel powerful. It levels the playing field somewhat when you realise that you are just one example of a species of primate, and that every other example is insecure, foolish, flawed and gassy, just like you.

The Bingo Hall does have one very intriguing secret, and I've touched on it before, but it would be wrong to climb up here and do a blog without writing on it again.

 The Bingo Hall opened its doors in 1934 as The Granada Theatre, and it lasted as such until 1973. If you face it from street level and look right at the top, the old "Granada" lettering can still faintly be seen on the brickwork above their decorative pillars.
In the buildings time as a theatre, the Rolling Stones and the Beatles performed here. In fact, the Beatles wrote their song "From me to you" while on their way to Shrewsbury for that performance in 1963.

But what few people know is that only about 30% of the building was converted into a bingo hall, and the upper levels, accessible only through rooftopping, are still that of a theatre frozen in time. 

Isn't this insane? Each seat has a layer of dust completely untouched for years. Because smoking indoors was still acceptable when this place was open, each chair has an ashtray built into the back, and look at this!

Vintage ash! On the last night of the place being open, it must have just been left. But that is not all.

Further back, the old lighting equipment is still up here.

And these customer toilets, long since out of use but still in better shape than the toilets in some pubs and clubs, have bottles of alcohol resting on the windows, likely purchased at the bar on the last night, and left here, never to be cleaned up.

Down these stairs, which still look very Theatre-like, I'll no doubt either find a fire exit or find myself in the still occupied part of the bingo hall. And that simply doesn't interest me. It's the history that I love.

I kept my poke around the theatre to a minimal but would honestly love to have another look. I'm sure there's more to see, but I would ideally prefer to seek permission for it, given that the lower part of the building is still very much active.

Anyway, that's all I got. Share this blog where you want. It'll be the last one for a while, as my next two are on my international blog- first a derelict retail unit, and then a derelict church. Until then, follow my Instagram, Like my Facebook page and follow my Twitter so that you never miss an update. Thanks for reading!

Rooftops of Shrewsbury- The roof of Maplin

(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. I never break into a place, 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 a 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 was recently world mental health day, and everyone was posting about their experiences on social media, which is great! Show me someone who isn't a little messed up and I'll show you a good liar. But every time a suicide gets reported, everyones up in arms saying "If only someone was there for them." Well there's still a few billion humans to be there for. Honestly, talking about this sort of thing is a step in the right direction. Bravo, humanity.

And for once it was a social media bandwagon that I was tempted to jump on, but I just had an unusual case of writers block, uncommon in me. I can find my words fluidly when writing about a dilapidated shed or something, but I really struggle with untangling the really deep stuff, and conveying it in words, which is hypocritical seeing as I just congratulated everyone for their own transparency but fuck it. I would be wrong to say that my unconventional adventures didn't develop as a coping mechanism to the shitstorm in my brain. I took to the rooftops eight years ago, as a form of escapism, purely due to my inability to achieve a sense of belonging.

Don't get me wrong- I'm not anti-human. I think most of you are great. Tree Surgeon and his wife are great. Isla and Jess are great. My publicist, Old Man Russ, is great. And I probably think that you're great too.  But where does one start in explaining that I find humans unrelatable? Instead of moping, I make jokes about my own reclusive nature, and the fact that aside from being a total recluse, the only other sign of my abusive childhood is a phobia of dairy products. Laughter is natures anaesthetic after all, and humour is my way of coping with the fact that in almost every human interaction my inner monologue is screaming.

But it must be said, so that the narrative is not misunderstood, I'm very happy in life. I love being me. I'm having the time of my life being me. And if I couldn't do what I do, I'd probably end up doing a Robin Williams. That's right, I'd paint myself blue, hide in a bottle, and help poor people get laid.

So today I'm returning for the first time in years to the rooftop of Maplin, and like my blog about Shrewsbury Library, I get to use an exterior shot of the building I'm climbing on thats been taken from another roof that I've been on. I love it when that happens.

It's not Maplin anymore, but that's what happens when  just about all of your stock can be found on the internet for a fraction of the price. The former staff have my condolences. However it's the view that has any actual value to me. Naturally, I went up during the night, purely in the interests of stealth.
Check it out-

As far as rooftopping goes, Maplin gets severely overlooked, mainly because it's just a singular roof with nowhere to move onto, whereas other rooftops like Pride Hill allow for rooftop access down entire streets. There is a reason for my sudden renewed interest in the Maplin roof though, and that is that expansion further down the street is temporarily possible.

There's a good view of the Market Hall clocktower from here, too. When I was up there I distinctly remember looking down at Maplin, and also what was once Argos on the other side, thinking "Those other rooftops seem so small from up here." It truly put a lot of things into perspective. One gets a sense of accomplishment for traversing the side of the building and arriving on its roof, in a whole new landscape completely unseen to the general public, but still existing in the same world. It becomes apparent through this sport just how much of our world we're actually seeing. And then to climb the tower and look down once again on the rooftop landscape that I'm generally more accustomed to from an even higher vantage point, it's quite surreal.

The market hall gets called ugly a lot, due to it being a very prominent example of 1960s Brutalist architecture in a town fond of its history. Other buildings in Shrewsbury get the same negative reaction, but the market tower seems to get it the most, because it's the most noticable.
For the sake of comparison, I'll include an old photo of the building that used to stand where it does now.

(Photo not mine, obviously)

In my opinion, Shrewsburys old market tower is bloody gorgeous, especially compared to the one that was built in its place, and I lament that I wasn't around to ever see it in person. However, those who were around do point out in defence of its demolition that by the time they tore it down, it was already falling apart all by itself. Nevertheless, it's a loss.

But while we can complain about the 1960s brutalist architecture all we want, I've provided a solution to the problem in this blog multiple times before- Open up the flat rooftops to the public so that the ugly architecture can provide a vantage point for tourists and locals to appreciate the good architecture that surrounds it. It would totally work! Buildings like the Market Hall and Princess House are practically begging for that kind of treatment!

 Maplin exists on a street called Shoplatch, a name that derives from "Shutts Place," in reference to the Shutt family, who used to live on it centuries ago in the pub called The Hole In The Wall. Interestingly, the Shutts were originally known as the Schitts, until they changed the pronounciation and spelling of their unfortunate surname. So if you want to get really pedantic, Shoplatch means "Shit Place." The ghost that allegedly haunts the Hole in the Wall is also allegedly that of the long-deceased Sarah Schitt.
One wonders what her unfinished business might be...

Recently, circumstances have allowed me to get from the roof of Maplin, right down to the larger, white building at the end of Shoplatch. This big white building is considerably taller than Maplin, and has a rather remarkable history that is overlooked today. It was originally a theatre, constructed in 1834 on the site of an earlier theatre that dates back to 1791. And there are plenty of older photos that show it as such!

As you can probably guess from the clues in the photo, namely a fire engine parked outside and a ladder reaching up to a big smoky window, a fire broke out in the 1940s. There's another photo too, which depicts the fire from a little further down Shoplatch, where the smoke is far more obvious.

Needless to say, all the black & white photos from the 1940s are not mine.

Following the fire, the theatre never reopened, but instead had extensive renovations to become shops and offices, which it remains as to this day. So unlike the Bingo Hall, there's sadly no chance of finding remains of the theatre, and projection equipment, since it was all removed or outright destroyed in the 1940s.

However the view from the top is pretty spectacular.

 Over in the distance are the three churches, with the flat one on the end being another that I've had the good fortune to climb, St Julians. 

And of course, St Chads church looms over the trees.

Like I said, when one climbs a building, there's a sense of accomplishment. That sense of accomplishment is increased when I realise that I can't climb a building without pointing out all the other places that I have climbed. In regards to Shrewsbury, I've done some great things as an adventurer. In addition to the places visible from the rooftops covered today, I've climbed every major landmark, including the Abbey and the library. I've explored places like Radbrook College, Parveen Balti, and that brothel near Wakeman. I've discovered a remarkable supply of adventure, which the casual urban explorer might not suspect a small town like Shrewsbury as having. However, recently my circles have widened, and I am sorry to say that the majority of my recent adventures have taken place mainly in the surrounding areas, Wales, Cheshire, Staffordshire and Herefordshire. And while I've blogged about places before that aren't in Shropshire, like Camelot Theme Park, Long Marston Airfield, the House from Tots TV and Utopia the Swingers Club, I don't think I see the logic in posting a series of adventures in a blog whose title indicates Shrewsbury and the surrounding area.

This isn't bad news. I'm happy to say that I'm going to set up a third blog, where I will post my adventures that are further afield. And I'll be blogging there a lot in the future. I do have a few more Shropshire blogs coming up, but they won't be as frequent. Some might say, why not post all locations, including Shropshire ones, onto the new blog? But you see in the past, I've noticed that my Shropshire-related blogs reach a completely different audience to the people who read the blogs about derelict theme parks and whatnot. For me this is a community blog, supported by the people of Shropshire because they relate to it, whereas the new one will be a travel blog. So if you want to stay in the loop, then it's probably best that I do something self-gratifying and arrogant, like plug my social media! You'll still get regular blog updates if you like my Facebook page, follow my Instagram, and my Twitter, and I might someday post something on my Youtube eventually.
But I have big plans, and of course if anything comes up in the Shropshire area then it will be posted here at Shrewsbury From Where You Are Not.

My next blog post will be on the other blog, and it is a derelict museum, complete with leftover mannequins.

And then I'll be back here with one of Shropshires forgotten nuclear bunkers.
This will be awesome.

Thanks for reading!