Nesscliffe ROC post

What sort of little treasures do you walk past on a daily basis without ever noticing?

There are hundreds of little doors all over the UK, inconspicuously leading down into the ground. These were established in the 1950s for the Royal Observer Corps. From 1925 onwards the role of the Royal Observer Corps was to detect enemy aircraft but as tensions rose in the Cold War, they were given the additional task of reporting nuclear blasts.
1,563 subterranean posts were set up, each consisting of an entry hatch down a narrow shaft to a room aproximately 15 feet by eight feet in size, which would contain desks, cupboards, chairs and beds. A smaller room contained a toilet facility, however it was just a barrel with a seat on it, with no actual pipes or flushing mechanism. At the opposite end of the larger chamber from the entry shaft was an air shaft.

Straight away, one can see the flaw here. While the underground room was equipped to detect nuclear blasts and determine the number and strength of nuclear explosions, the air shaft would have provided an access point for radiation in the event of a nuclear strike, negating the entire purpose of being subterranean. In addition, while the bases themselves were subterranean, their communication between all the other ROC posts depended on above-ground telegraph poles, so in the event of a bombing, they would have been flattened and the people stationed in the ROC posts would have been cut off from the world.

The majority of ROC posts were shut down in 1968. The rest were closed in 1991. Some were sold to mobile phone companies, and masts erected in their foundations.
Allegedly only a few ROC posts have a different layout to the common style, and one of the more notoriously unusual designs is underneath Windsor Castle. It doesn't take a genius to figure out that the details that make its design unusual or different are probably features that enable it to serve as a more efficient bunker than the more common ROC posts. Unfortunately I can't see the one underneath Windsor Castle. But Shropshire is not lacking in its surprises.

Oswestry's ROC post is sadly filled in, while just across the border Llanrhaeadr, Llanfechain and Lake Vyrnwy ROC posts have been completely demolished, with only a few traces left hat they ever existed. The door at Cockshutt is welded shut, and the one at Much Wenlock is padlocked. The one at Whitchurch still contains beds, allegedly, but lacks a ladder.

But Nesscliffe??? I was surprised when I found it, because the door was wide open!

This meant someone had been here, or was even still here, so I approached with caution. But it soon became apparent nobody was around. Whoever had left this open was long gone.

The shaft was deep and narrow. The ladder was decades old, and hadn't received any kind of maintenance since the posts closure in 1991. Only a fool would risk climbing down it! DO I LOOK LIKE A FOOL????

 Ah... Well, now that that's been established, let's take a look!

(LEGAL DISCLAIMER: As an explorer, I do not force entry, vandalize, steal, or disclose means of entry. Trespass without forced entry is a civil offence rather than a criminal one, which isn't worth acting on unless one causes damage, steals, has ill intent, etc. I simply photograph and leave everything as I find it. I do not condone breaking and entering, and I do not condone what I do. I'm a danger to myself and a terrible role model.)

The main room was lacking in its beds but the rest of the furniture was there. This may seem surprising but look at that shaft again. Why pay a team to lug the furniture up that ladder (a health and safety nightmare) when one could just leave it as it is?

Looking at the room, it's difficult to imagine this place containing a couple of beds. These seem to have been disassembled and removed, but imagine how cramped this place would have been with them in. Imagine being stationed here, and having to get out of bed just to sit at a desk and wait for nuclear blasts that never happened.

Imagine how awful it would be if you couldn't stand the person you were stationed with.

Yeah, I don't think we give the Royal Observer Corps enough credit.

I was saddened to see that this cupboard contained nothing. However, I did have to wonder how long the pink toilet paper had been down here.

Here's the air shaft. It appears to be closeable, but when I tried to shut it, it was rusted in place.

And finally we have the unflushable toilet facilities. I didn't peek inside, but I'm guessing it was a cleaner sight than the toilets in some pubs and clubs in Shrewsbury.

Imagine working here with someone you couldn't stand and a nuclear blast did go off, cutting your communication, leaving you cut off from the world in this teeny makeshift bunker/office with the person you hate, and this toilet. We're all very lucky people.

I can't believe so many ROC posts exist out there. Of course if I went out and documented more straight away I imagine this blog would get rather repetitive and dull. So next I think I'll be out in Powys exploring something new. I know the name of the blog is shockingly inaccurate, increasingly as time progresses. But I lived in Oswestry for ages, so Powys kinda feels like home too. And I have a keen interest in exploring a few Welshier places.

In the meantime, if you have any information regarding this place or any other place I've explored, do get in touch via the blog comments or via social media. I have Instagram, Twitter, and Facebook. Find me, add me, we'll be buddies.

Thanks for reading. Stay awesome.

Harlescott Railway Signal Box (or why I shouldn't write at 4am)

The following is clearly a work of fiction. You can tell it's a work of fiction, because the subject of the adventure no longer exists. If you recall, I mentioned two posts ago that I had failed to get in there on the day before it was demolished. So how else other than time travel is an explorer meant to get there???

Well it turns out, since this is a fictional story, that time travel was indeed the answer. And don't seem so surprised! Loads of stories featured here are fictional. What, you thought someone could be this good looking in real life? No, beyond The Explorer, at the real heart of "Shrewsbury from where you are not" is a mostly faceless lady we here in the fictional universe know as The Artist. We tried referring to her as God once, but Charles Darwin got angry. And so did Westboro Baptist Church, but they're always angry so it's okay.

 As you can see from the early concept art, That Explorer Person has laser eyes gained by radiation exposure when exploring Chernobyl, yet another fictional adventure. The Artist, with her brilliant talent, actually sits and paints all the images you see here at Shrewsbury From Where You Are Not. What, you don't believe me??? Here's what Shrewsbury looks like before she colours it in.

But I digress magnificently, for I am a fictional character without a plot. But to retrace my steps, I did indeed find a time machine, nestled deep in the cavernous cellar of the last articles subject, Stoke Grange! There I sought the ultimate adventure. I would set my sights on... TELETUBBY LAND!!!

*cue dramatic music*

This image does not belong to me or The Artist. No, unlike me and my photos, it's real! Teletubby Land was a real, derelict and abandoned historical location up until 2013 when it gained a Gremlin infestation and the land owners decided to demolish the entire thing and fill it with water.

I don't think they saw the movie. That's so going to backfire on them. But the point is, since I didn't get a chance to explore it when it was there, I decided to utilize time travel. However, since the Artist didn't write trans-chrono physics into my skill set (I know right, laser eyes and knockout breasts, but no idea how to program a time machine) I ended up not at Teletubby Land, but back in Shrewsbury, just prior to the railway signal boxes demolition.
So why waste the adventure?

  (LEGAL DISCLAIMER: As an explorer, I do not force entry, vandalize, steal, or disclose means of entry. Trespass without forced entry is a civil offence rather than a criminal one, which isn't worth acting on unless one causes damage, steals, has ill intent, etc. I simply photograph and leave everything as I find it. I do not condone breaking and entering, and I do not condone what I do. I'm a danger to myself and a terrible role model. I'm also a fictional character retelling a fictional adventure, so none of this really applies)


The derelict Harlescott Signal Box was, to my initial disapointment, baricaded by a measely piece of wood nailed over the top of the door, preventing my access. However, the ground floor door was open...

 Those verticle metal bits along the side are the mechanisms for the signal levers. Naturally, I didn't touch them just in case any were still connected. But as you can see, some of them are lying on the floor already, since the place was derelict.

Here's an old telephone exchange.

 And look guys, railway signal boxes were apparently affected by window tax back in the day too!

 Here's a closer look at those lever mechanisms.

Anyway, in spite of the upstairs door being locked, the fact that numerous levers had been removed made it completely possible to access the top floor via the hole in the floor where the lever used to be. Thus proving my fictionality. No way would I be so inventive with getting somewhere if I was a real human being!

Here's a sign with some interesting communication information on it.

In the corner was a small handwashing area, which still had paper towels in the dispenser, but no sink.

Where was the toilet? Outside, in a little room at the exact opposite end of the building to the actual door. So if one worked here, and needed to trot off the the loo, one then would have to come all the way back upstairs to the work area to wash their hands, which is kinda weird.

Hmm... It's still cleaner than some toilets in some of Shrewsburys pubs and clubs.

And that about sums up the Harlescott Railway Box. It was demolished less than 24 hours later, which means that if this wasn't a work of fiction, I would very likely be the last person to set foot in this place and appreciate it prior to its demolition.

In the days following the demolition, numerous groups online were sharing old memories of this place, and it was obvious that this signal box had quite a lot of sentimental value to the right social circles. And of course, it wasn't exactly in the way, so its demolition seems rather pointless. Doubly so given how much people love their old buildings.

But regardless, if you have any information or stories about this place or any other place mentioned on "Shrewsbury From Where You Are Not" please get in touch. I can be reached via various social media, including Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram. In the meantime, if there's any part of Shropshire thats secret, forgotten, or abandoned that I have no desire to see, it's only because I already have.

Thanks for reading!

Stoke Grange Farm

A lot of my readers have suddenly started asking me if I've noticed this particular derelict property, or if I'm ever going to explore it. In addition to this, someone completely unrelated posted on a Facebook group asking about it. I'm not sure why this place has been a focal point of Shropshire interest lately- it's been derelict for an undetermined number of decades, allegedly due to a fire, and any information on it has been scarce. But look at it! How could I not check this out?

I learned that the building is best known as Stoke Grange Farm, and that it was originally named Chesthill Grange, and that it dates back to the 13th Century when it was built by monks of Combermere Abbey. As a useful bit of trivia, "grange" is a word for a farm owned by a monastery, so while it's commonly referred to as Stoke Grange Farm today, a more accurate title would simply be Stoke Grange, but then the UK is full of names like this. I think Llanrhaeadr Waterfall may have something like that going on too, due to being on the Welsh/English border, but don't take my word on that.

Chesthill Grange was used centuries ago for rabbit farming. I have no idea when it made the transition to Stoke Grange or when it became derelict. It's not a listed building, and people seem to be under the impression that a fire obliterated the place in the 1960s. Plans to fix the place up were hindered by its proximity to a military base. This might not sound like a big deal. However, the cellar of the then-derelict Stoke Grange was used as a temporary lair by the IRA in 1989, when they bombed the nearby barracks.

Wow! Up until then the history of this place was all flowery and whimsical, with rabbit farming and monks, and then it just decided to slap the 20th Century in the face.

It was time for Shropshires miscreant adventurer to take a look.

 (LEGAL DISCLAIMER: As an explorer, I do not force entry, vandalize, steal, or disclose means of entry. Trespass without forced entry is a civil offence rather than a criminal one, which isn't worth acting on unless one causes damage, steals, has ill intent, etc. I simply photograph and leave everything as I find it. I do not condone breaking and entering, and I do not condone what I do. I'm a danger to myself and a terrible role model. )

I initially went straight to the cellar down this lovely precarious stairway to darkness, but before I show those photographs, I want to show off the ground floor.

Already, there's a blocked up doorway, which indicates numerous modifications done to the place in the past, as anyone can expect from places several hundred years old.

I just love how photogenic this place is. I honestly did not want to leave!

And I'm loving all the retro appliances, the floor pattern, the eccentric fireplace design. It's such an awesome place!

 As you can see, the stairs up to the upper floors were almost completely gone.

 I did find one staircase that still had the stairs intact, but just look at the angle of those steps. This thing is just one fourteen-stone explorer away from being rubble on the floor.

But what did it matter? The upper floor was partly wreckage around my feet anyway and through the ceiling I could see the off-limits upper floor, as well as a ruined stairway to an even more off-limits upperer (?) floor.

So what's up there? I love the mystery, and in spite of the fact that downstairs is pretty bare, if a fire did destroy this house, it's quite possible a lot of the old belongings simply couldn't be retrieved from the higher floors. Who knows, maybe someday a grand piano will come crashing through the rotting floorboards.

But while I felt deprived of an adventure upwards, except maybe to Heaven should I attempt such a thing, the cellar was cavernous and fun. Check out the stairs though! It's pratically a slope.

Damn those IRA vandals, scribbling naughty words on the walls!

In all honesty, it is surreal to think that this place was once a lair for some IRA bombers two years before I was born. It is a shame that the upper floors were unreachable, but what I could find was still photogenic. Stoke Grange is a magnificent building and it would have been impressive to see it in its glory days. If anyone does have any information or memories from this place, or anywhere else I've writen about, feel free to get in touch, either in the comments or on social media. I'm on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, and Tumblr too. Find me, add me, we'll be buddies. 

In the meantime, if there's any part of Shropshire thats secret, forgotten, or abandoned that I have no desire to see, it's only because I already have.
Thanks for reading.