The Belvidere

(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.

Updates on this "local" blog have been infrequent, largely due to me working more on achieving my dream of being a serial pest worldwide. On my international blog, you'll find tales of abandoned nursing homes, underground wartime railway depots, a Soviet tank barracks and the occasional abandoned Nazi base. But this time I'm focusing on whats right on my doorstep.

Hidden away in Shrewsbury is this little gem, although I'm not sure for how much longer. The Belvidere is alleged to be facing somewhat imminent demolition. It's a little out of my way, so I hadn't actually heard of it until news came out that it was going to be flattened. I've never come here in its glory days, so I can't really comment on what it was like, but people do have fond memories, and I do believe that places like this should be documented before they're gone forever. This blog isn't just for you or me. It's for people years from now looking back. Our content on the internet will outlast us, so it's important to think big picture.

To address what may be an elephant in the room, I visited this place prior to the present lockdown. Covid-19 is something that I do take seriously. I'm quite lucky because for me, lockdown is an absolute doddle. I still have my hobbies, including writing this blog, and I still have my job, and my income. And since I was a social recluse before, nothings really changed for me. The biggest difference is that social media is more of a cesspit than usual. It's all just neighbourhood witch hunts and raking in the virtue points on there. I think a lot of people are frightened, and you can't yell at a virus to make it go away, so they try to feel in control of the situation by taking out their frustration on dog walkers, cyclists, and happy people.

I'm quite the optimist. Yes the death toll is scary, but imagine if the people in the 1300s suffering from  bubonic plague were told to just sit in the house for three weeks with electricity, clean running water, sanitary products, and clean food, while doctors who actually know their shit worked around the clock on vaccinations and counter measures. We're pretty lucky.

But I digress.

I'm not sure if it was always the case, but the Belvidere was also partially an Indian restaurant, with the signs outside still advertizing the fact, showing up on streetview as far back as 2009. The phone number has since been defaced, likely by the former occupants when the service stopped. From what I've read, the Indian restaurant "experiment" was discontinued in 2015, although I am skeptical of my sources there. It's a bit weird to keep the sign up in spite of no longer serving indian food. Although the pubs closure was in 2016 so maybe they just didn't get around to changing it.

Also parked outside was this van, which has certainly seen better days. How this got here, and why, I don't know.

As for the Belvidere pub, I was initially intrigued by its name. A belvidere is basically part of a structure that allows for a scenic view. In this case it refers more to the name of the area than to a literal belvidere, and looking at old maps I discovered that back when all this was fields, Belvidere Road actually led up to a massive country house called Belvidere, so I assume it had something to do with that.

The name is also reflected by the Belvidere School that happens to be right next door to the pub. I've actually managed to find an amusing photo of the schools frontage from back in the day, amusing because the newly erected pub sign being in such close proximity implied that the school serves alcohol, something which greatly displeased the headteacher.   

(Photo not mine, obviously)

I'd make a joke about a bitter head, but let's face it, it's probably already been done.

Now it's quite a peaceful neighbourhood. So much so that I wasn't expecting the pub to be accessible. This really doesn't feel like the sort of place where youths smash windows. I've been to derelict pubs in very Jeremy-Kyle-like areas, where I expect to be stabbed upon entry by drug addicts or something, but the Belvidere is in a quiet little area, so I was quite shocked to discover that I could just walk right in. The local kids were scurrying around it too, happy that they'd smashed a glass door and now had their cute little den to play with. They didn't give me any trouble. Why would they? I look like a serial killer.

For a pub on the verge of demolition, there's a lot left! I was expecting it all to be cleared out. Certainly with the kids scurrying around I assumed it would be a little more vandalised at least. It's almost like a time capsule, with only a few signs of decay. With a little TLC this could be ready to go. It seems a shame that it's going to be flattened.

The pub itself was apparently built in the 1960s as one of two pubs built by Banks Brewery to serve the new houses that were popping up as Shrewsbury expanded. The Belvidere's sister pub is The Charles Darwin, named as such to remind us all once again that Charlie D was born in Shrewsbury.

Go ahead and take a shot. Personally I don't play the Charles Darwin Drinking Game anymore. I want to survive!

My friend Alice, who came with me on that adventure to the abandoned castle mansion, and that derelict student accomodation block, claims quite hilariously that she attended the Belvidere School, and would come here after hours and be served alcohol in spite of being in her school uniform.
And apparently other students did too!

Of course, this wasn't the more recent landlord. From what I can tell, there was at least one change of hands since my chums were in secondary school.

And before we get all witch-hunty, let's face it, we all remember a time when pubs everywhere were a little more relaxed about the whole age thing. In fact I remember the time when my local pubs really started clamping down on it. I'd just turned seventeen and suddenly I couldn't get served anymore! We were all pretty miffed! Not as miffed as a boomer who has just been told that gay marriage is okay. I mean, we weren't firing off our AK-Qwertys in badly written English. But we were miffed nonetheless!

Theres a games machine here.

It looks like the Belvidere Golf Society had a display board here, but all their memories have since been taken down.

I don't know for sure but given that this is quite a spacious area with minimal seating, I assume there was a pool table here or something. I might be wrong.

If there was then it's strange that it's been taken away while so much has been left. I guess someone somewhere had a place for it.

Even now this pub still felt very homely. It still smelled of alcohol and it's easy to imagine what the place was like when it was open to the public.

And look- live porn!

Exiting from the bar, I found the main entrance, barricaded to prevent entry quite efficiently. The toilet doors were also locked so gaining access to them was impossible. Someone had smashed the glass of the ladies though, allowing a glimpse.

The cleanliness is probably owed to the fact that vandals can't actually get in.

So this lounge is where the Indian restaurant area would have been, although after February 2015 it was converted back to bar use.
Interestingly I've been told that in the 1970s and 1980s, the ladies largely kept to this lounge area while the gents frequented the bar area around the front, and that back then it was impossible to get a seat because the pub was so frequently packed. How times have changed. 

Built into the walls are these old fish tanks. They go straight through the wall so that they're visible in the next room too. I imagine it would have been quite a pretty feature back in the day. My friend Casi, who has also explored this pub with her husband Joe, told me that she'd heard an awful rumour that upon closure the owners of the Belvidere had simply left the fish to starve to death. So as I entered, I did wonder what I would find here. It reminded me a little of that story a year or so ago about those urban explorers in Australia who found a dead shark in an abandoned aquarium, albeit my version of the tale would have less impressive fish.

Fortunately it was just a rumour. There are no dead fish here, and the fish tanks are completely drained.

The restaurant area led around to this little back area, and thanks to Trip Advisor, I've been able to get photos of what this place used to look like.

Photo credit: Trip Advisor

Yup. Pretty much as you'd imagine. Just the same, but clean.

Trip Advisor is also good for reviews. Of the Belvidere, there were only two bad reviews from 2013, one claiming rude staff and the other claiming that the food made them ill. However the majority of reviews were great, often referring to the Belvidere as the best place to get Indian food in Shrewsbury.

Photo credit: Trip Advisor

As you can probably guess, from the fact that my picture shows a distinct absence of glass in the door to the garden, this was the way in.

Behind the bar was this cupboard, mostly full of clutter but one notable feature is the sign advertising live music.

Pinned to the wall of the staff area was this note from the enigmatic "H" which threatened cut pay if the cleaning wasn't completed by the end of the shift.

Don't fuck with H.

The kitchen area has several years of clutter gathering dust.

This bottle in the fridge is a little disturbing. Stupid mistake on my part. Never, ever look in the fridge.

Yum!

Someones made an attempt at barricading this door too, but rather poorly.

There was a single stairway, which I was rather reluctant to climb at first. The pub is one thing, but the rooms above tend to be former homes. I wasn't sure what to expect up here, but I kept it quick.

All personal belongings have gone. Only the furniture remains now.

Apart from these photos of military aircraft that have somehow been left unvandalsed. These were found and laid out by some of the kids who were scurrying around. It's a shame that these are still here.

In the kitchen there's a flower on the cupboard. It's a lasting remnant of the former homeliness.

The doors in from the roof have also been barricaded, but I'm pretty sure behind all the boards, the windows were smashed.

Here's the lounge. The cushions have gone, but the sofas and armchairs remain.

And here's the office.

And lastly, the bathroom.

That's all I've got for the Belvidere. As predicted by just how over-accessed it was by the local kids, and the fact that it's in a residential area, the fact that it was open at all was about as subtle as the holocaust, and it didn't take long for it to be sealed up. A Shropshire Star article from 2019 has made it official that the pub will be torn down and replaced with seven new houses, and that's kinda sad. This wasn't my pub of choice but it was someones. Everything mattered to someone once, and that's why documenting them before they're gone is important. It's great that people are going to have somewhere to live, but what about all the amenities, and all the other attractions that give a community some character? I think that stuffs important too.

Anyway, that's it for today. Next time I'm blogging on the other blog, about an abandoned garden centre, which is something new, and then there's a good old abandoned house in the countryside. It's going to be fun. In the meantime, share the blog, follow my Instagram, Like my Facebook and Follow my Twitter.

Thanks for reading!

Shropshires war ruins

(Disclaimer: This project is purely for the victimless documentation of history. We fully understand the risks/dangers involved in these adventures and do so in the full knowledge of what could happen. We don't encourage or accept responsibility for anyone else following in our footsteps. No location is ever forcefully broken into. We utilise existing openings only. No criminal offence is committed in the making of this blog.No location is ever occupied. No location is ever vandalised. Nothing from any location is ever taken or destroyed.

No location is ever disclosed. If it's obvious where it is, means of entry is not disclosed. We accept no responsibility if you dislike the blog. Nothing is stopping you from just clicking away. 

Hello everyone! Given that on my international blog, I've been focusing a lot on war-related stuff, like a first world war German airfield, a second world war Nazi base and a Cold war Soviet tank barracks, I wanted to do one back in England! Here in England, it occasionally stops raining, and I decided to use one of those ten minute intervals to dash out to some old airfield ruins. Shropshire actually had over thirty airfields back in the day, and I've only been to a few. And while some would say that it's rather depressing to think that the world is littered with in the remnants of two successive world wars, I do think that they deserve documenting while they're still here.

Lets get stuck in! Adventure awaits! Starting with my personal favourite of the bunch, a World War 2 Battle Headquarters quietly tucked away in the Shropshire hills!

For those who don't know, a Battle Headquarters was a mostly subterranean structure, with an external room on the surface, which is in the above picture. That was the "Observation Room" which is why it has a horizontal slit to peep out of.

The rest of this structure is visible, sticking out through the dirt, but back in the 1940s it would have been completely subterranean. It was from this little facility that an airfields Defence Officer could co-ordinate his team and defend the airfield in the event of an attack. They were thought up in 1941, initially above ground but later underground as the war escalated.
These can actually be found all over the country, and their design mostly carries a sort of uniformity. In that sense, I see them in the same way that I see the ROC bunkers of the 1960s. However the Battle HQs have had a couple more decades left to rot.

This here would have been a stairway leading down into the facility, and serving as its primary entrance. It's been filled in, which is a little disappointing, unless you're a plant that's always aspired to have a staircase-shaped pot to grow in. Fortunately, we're in luck! There's always an escape hatch!

In spite of being considerably older and even more neglected than ROC posts, the escape hatch of a Battle HQ is slightly less intimidating, because it's smaller. It leads to the observation room, the floor of which is only a few feet deep. One can stand up straight in an observation room, even though it doesn't look it on the outside, and so anyone with good upper body strength can pull themselves out of the escape hatch if the ladder happens to not be there. To the right of the ladder, you'll notice that stairs continue to descend into the rest of the facility.

The observation room is surprisingly spacious, but I couldn't go in straight away because of a fucking bat flapping around that I'd somehow disturbed on my entry. I decided to photograph this room last, and continue on with the rest of the facility. I like bats. I don't like disturbing them.

Here's the stairway leading down. It doesn't look like a stairway because there's loads of dirt over it, and I'm fairly certain that the slab there likely once covered the hatch to stop people getting in.

The stairs lead down to the defence officers office, and quite frankly it felt wonderful to be here. Unlike ROC bunkers, I've only been to a grand total of three Battle HQs prior to this, and they've all been flooded! Sometimes I can at least access the observation room, but sometimes I can't even get down the hatch. Somehow this one is still dry.

So the airfields defence officer worked here. Every decision regarding the defence of the airfield would have been made right here in this room, and relayed to the Messengers room and the PBX room via the hatches in the far corner.

Here's the exit out into the Battle HQs main hallway.

Here's the filled in "main entrance" at the end of the hallway. To the right are the two doors, the closest being the defence officers room and the furthest being the messenger and runners room. Behind me would have been the toilet. It's not there now, but the vacant, underground, neglected-for-70 years space is still in better condition than the toilets in some pubs and clubs.

In some design variations, another doorway on the left would lead to a small bedroom for the defence officers men. 

This is the PBX room, which is situated at the back of the Messengers and Runners room. The Runner was responsible for relaying messages to the defence units stationed around the airfield that couldn't be reached by telephone. Those that could be reached by the telephone were contacted via the telephone equipment in the PBX room.

This is all that remains of the communications equipment.

From what I understand, Battle HQs never really made it out of the just-in-case phase of the early war when there was still fear of the Germans actually invading and setting foot on British soil. That never actually happened, and many Battle HQs actually fell out of use while the war was still on. While I'm sure it was good practice to run drills, just in case, many Battle HQs are found without fixtures or decor because they simply were never actually used.

 The thing about Battle HQs is that to the unknowing, this just looks like rubble. Someone might walk their dog past here and think "A building once stood here." Little do they realise, the building does still stand here!

Just down from this Battle HQ is something else that I love...

This is a seagull trench! They're a defence facility, pretty similar to Pillboxes. But unlike pillboxes, these are pretty much a reinforced trench, set low down, giving the folks inside an ankle-level view of the landscape and any approaching enemy. This meant that they could open fire on any enemy with relative safety, although the Germans never put them to the test. The roof would likely have been camouflaged with grass too.

They're called Seagull trenches because from the sky they look like a bird with its wings spread. Why the Larus Marinus was chosen to be the namesake, I have no idea. They're possibly the most irritating avian on the planet. What sort of message does that send? "Guess what, Hitler? Not only are we going to gun down your men, but we're also going to poo on your head and steal your chips!"

There are definitely more fearsome birds out there. Owls send a nice message "Strike at night, shoot some Nazis." Buzzards, too. Even the noble Robin would make Hitler stop and think "Scheisse, now Father Christmas knows I'm a naughty boy."

Why Seagulls???

The metal squares are where machine guns would have been mounted to fire through. In some rare cases, seagull trenches actually still have more of the frame left over, but I've only ever come across that once.

I'll throw a photo in just to show what the contraption looked like, but it's not from this particular Seagull Trench.

Seagull trenches also have a degree of uniformity to them, but rather depressingly there are allegedly now only 21 of these left in the entire country. This is my fourth.

Onto something else entirely, we have this curious contraption rusting away in a Shropshire field...

Now I've never seen one of these before, but allegedly it's a decoy airfield control bunker.

There would have been a generator in this room that would have allegedly powered some lights that were strung along the field to look like an airfield. The Nazis would often bomb the UK at night, which is what led to the blackouts. The dummy airfields were an attempt at tricking the Nazis into wasting their bombs on the wrong place. But while the preservation of the actual airfield was the priority, this facility was apparently manned too, which must have been a pretty intense job. 

It's only small, but after nipping here I swung by a couple of pillboxes.

Pillboxes are basically little structures with openings in them for the folks inside to fire through at advancing enemies. They tend to be found in fields around old airfields, and some that are still active, although given that you're more likely to see a nun wearing a strap-on than a hostile military invasion on UK soil, all remaining pillboxes are either derelict or converted into sheds and other uses by the landowners. This is one that watches a bridge over a river, and on the other side of the road is a second identical one.

They're rather simplistic in design, but I like them anyway. Years ago, I actually found a decapitated sex doll in a Pillbox. It was in the night, too, so I literally just saw it illuminated by torch light. Its head was right next to my foot, staring up at me! It sure made me jump! Has Ouija LeMay been hiding bodies of the Welsh Mafia again? She'll get no Christmas card from me if my blog is used for such nefarious purposes. But I digress. The point is, Pillboxes are samey but it's always worth taking a look. I think it's pretty cool of the landowner to preserve them, too.

Here's the second pillbox. It's pretty much identical.

Check it out! I might as well have used the exact same two interior shots!

So that's it for now, but I'll almost certainly cover military ruins again at some point. The thing is, a single pillbox doesn't, in my opinion, inspire a blog post. It's pointless going out to one of these and then writing about it here. So when they do pop up, it'll be in an accumulation of other military stuff, like today. I really like Pillboxes, and Seagull Trenches too. The real treasure for me was the Battle HQ.

Anyway, my next couple of posts are going to be on my international blog. I need to dot the I's and cross the T's in Berlin, tieing off some loose ends, and then I'll be writing about a derelict mansion in Wales, two articles which don't really have a place on a blog about hidden places in Shropshire.
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Thanks for reading!