boxfrenzy
19-06-2010, 07:43 PM
Wolverhampton - West Midlands. Home of the almighty Wolverhampton Wanderers, the location of the first automatic traffic lights in England, and birthplace of one of musics finest, the majestic Slade. However, modern day Wolverhampton has changed dramatically from its engineering past. The echoes of the race riots and unrest in Heath Town, Whitmore Reans and Blakenhall still resonate from the 60's concrete buildings, and the city can be edgy and dangerous. Sandwiched between the Compton Road and Tettenhall Road is the abandoned Eye Hospital, empty and boarded and forgotten by most.
http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1279/4711501916_ca9d276eaf.jpg
This place had opened in 1888, the same year the football league started, including Wolves, just down the road from here. The place was built at a cost £13,000 and had three men's and three women's wards with thirty beds and five children's cots. Built in a simple gothic style, this place shut in 2007, and has lain empty ever since. Here, a postcard from 1900 shows one of the three buildings.
http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4019/4714269383_b7d752c475_o.jpg
Right, torch, check. Camera, check. Tripod, check. Tenalady, check. Lets have a look shall we readers?
After a lengthy recce, myself and the lovely Frogbox were in the compound. Needles were everywhere. We carried on, and after a risky, and very open manoeuvre, were in someones bedroom. We moved on quickly, stepping over clothes and a mattress and down the dark staircase. I hoped that we were alone.
http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4054/4711499606_253f0f3b4b.jpg
The reception area was stripped. The traffic noise had faded, and the hospital was silent.
http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4057/4710857957_a9ab8fbeab.jpg
The patient records that had been left behind had long gone. Cupboards, drawers and storerooms were empty.
http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4019/4710858059_d71b1a6d98.jpg
We moved on into the next room, a large hall. Light shades were smashed and conduit lay on the carpet where metal theives had been in. Later on we would find hacksaws. At the moment no one else seemed to be in the building.
http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4064/4710858179_626e4ae2fb.jpg
Many of the rooms down here were pitch black. Luckily A grade Frogbox torch skillz meant we could check out the hospital related shizz.
http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1279/4711500120_0097d2f229.jpg
We carried on.The initial collection of needles had made us edgy and tense. We'd only spotted a couple of them inside, but the prospect of meeting a skaghead in here wasn't good. Not good at all. Still, there was always time to take a picture of a small tea trolley.
http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1276/4711500236_04492e195b.jpg
The ceiling was down in here, insulation blown and broken glass everywhere. It was difficult to keep quiet. Photos were taken, and I spotted more evidence of junkies. A sound from up inside the infirmary stopped us. We paused, maybe for 5 minutes or so. I couldn't hear it again.
http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4025/4710858591_fd3f42ed86.jpg
We moved on quietly. The hospital corridors were wrecked, and dark. Consulting rooms were off to each side and I was surprised that so many toilets were still intact. No I didn't.
http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4070/4710858799_d34d26a8a0.jpg
The top floor was lighter. In a bathroom we heard it again. A noise from inside the hospital. Again we remained still. Minutes passed and no further sound. This was not the best place to be, as we were the furthest point from our access point. It would be down to good hiding if someone else were here. I thought about the bedroom we had walked through, and put it out of my mind. No further sounds. We took a couple of shots in the bath and carried on.
http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4052/4711500774_02fcfc90b3.jpg
God help us if a crazed Wolverhampton smack head were to chase us through the corridors. With that in mind, we made for the chapel.
http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4064/4710859069_349a81999d.jpg
http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1268/4710859189_a043656e7d.jpg
I loved the old wards. It was an important box to tick on the Eye Hospital eye spy exploring book I had with me.
http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4011/4710859343_9ee1980f0c.jpg
However tenuous a grip you have on your sphincter muscles, you and I both know there is always time for this sort of nonsense.
http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4035/4711501416_2d38d92c85.jpg
It had been important to make sure we knew where we were at all times in here. Should the need to find the access/entry point quickly be needed, we had ensured that we had a decent route planned. It was on this corridor that there was a tense moment when I realised that we couldn't get to where we needed to be. A staircase led us nowhere, and another was blocked by a fallen ceiling. We turned back.
http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4071/4710859671_10f4cdd481.jpg
Picture this. Two people who should know better are in an abandoned hospital. The place clearly is lived in by heroin addicts. There is a suspicion that we aren't alone in the building, the noises could have been nothing to worry about, but you don't know that right? You don't know that at all. To assume that you are ok is foolish at best, and suicidal at worst. Clearly, being as quiet as possible is the right thing to do, so as not to draw unwanted attention to your presence. Why then, in here, did I make one of the loudest sounds I have ever made in my life? For some reason to this day I can't fathom out, my hand involuntarily opened, and out tumbled my large iron tripod onto the floor. I wouldn't have been surprised if the residents of neighbouring Dudley had heard it. Frogbox was right here. We may as well of gone round with the radio on. So utterly rubbish.
http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1286/4710859801_b759915e08.jpg
It was time to leave, as quickly and silently as possible. After a potential femoral artery severing issue, we were out, across, down, down, up, over and out. An entry that had taken about 15 minutes was completed in about 2 minutes. It felt good to be alive and safe on the streets of Wolverhampton, a phrase that I can imagine has never, ever been typed before.
http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1279/4711501916_ca9d276eaf.jpg
This place had opened in 1888, the same year the football league started, including Wolves, just down the road from here. The place was built at a cost £13,000 and had three men's and three women's wards with thirty beds and five children's cots. Built in a simple gothic style, this place shut in 2007, and has lain empty ever since. Here, a postcard from 1900 shows one of the three buildings.
http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4019/4714269383_b7d752c475_o.jpg
Right, torch, check. Camera, check. Tripod, check. Tenalady, check. Lets have a look shall we readers?
After a lengthy recce, myself and the lovely Frogbox were in the compound. Needles were everywhere. We carried on, and after a risky, and very open manoeuvre, were in someones bedroom. We moved on quickly, stepping over clothes and a mattress and down the dark staircase. I hoped that we were alone.
http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4054/4711499606_253f0f3b4b.jpg
The reception area was stripped. The traffic noise had faded, and the hospital was silent.
http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4057/4710857957_a9ab8fbeab.jpg
The patient records that had been left behind had long gone. Cupboards, drawers and storerooms were empty.
http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4019/4710858059_d71b1a6d98.jpg
We moved on into the next room, a large hall. Light shades were smashed and conduit lay on the carpet where metal theives had been in. Later on we would find hacksaws. At the moment no one else seemed to be in the building.
http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4064/4710858179_626e4ae2fb.jpg
Many of the rooms down here were pitch black. Luckily A grade Frogbox torch skillz meant we could check out the hospital related shizz.
http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1279/4711500120_0097d2f229.jpg
We carried on.The initial collection of needles had made us edgy and tense. We'd only spotted a couple of them inside, but the prospect of meeting a skaghead in here wasn't good. Not good at all. Still, there was always time to take a picture of a small tea trolley.
http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1276/4711500236_04492e195b.jpg
The ceiling was down in here, insulation blown and broken glass everywhere. It was difficult to keep quiet. Photos were taken, and I spotted more evidence of junkies. A sound from up inside the infirmary stopped us. We paused, maybe for 5 minutes or so. I couldn't hear it again.
http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4025/4710858591_fd3f42ed86.jpg
We moved on quietly. The hospital corridors were wrecked, and dark. Consulting rooms were off to each side and I was surprised that so many toilets were still intact. No I didn't.
http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4070/4710858799_d34d26a8a0.jpg
The top floor was lighter. In a bathroom we heard it again. A noise from inside the hospital. Again we remained still. Minutes passed and no further sound. This was not the best place to be, as we were the furthest point from our access point. It would be down to good hiding if someone else were here. I thought about the bedroom we had walked through, and put it out of my mind. No further sounds. We took a couple of shots in the bath and carried on.
http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4052/4711500774_02fcfc90b3.jpg
God help us if a crazed Wolverhampton smack head were to chase us through the corridors. With that in mind, we made for the chapel.
http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4064/4710859069_349a81999d.jpg
http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1268/4710859189_a043656e7d.jpg
I loved the old wards. It was an important box to tick on the Eye Hospital eye spy exploring book I had with me.
http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4011/4710859343_9ee1980f0c.jpg
However tenuous a grip you have on your sphincter muscles, you and I both know there is always time for this sort of nonsense.
http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4035/4711501416_2d38d92c85.jpg
It had been important to make sure we knew where we were at all times in here. Should the need to find the access/entry point quickly be needed, we had ensured that we had a decent route planned. It was on this corridor that there was a tense moment when I realised that we couldn't get to where we needed to be. A staircase led us nowhere, and another was blocked by a fallen ceiling. We turned back.
http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4071/4710859671_10f4cdd481.jpg
Picture this. Two people who should know better are in an abandoned hospital. The place clearly is lived in by heroin addicts. There is a suspicion that we aren't alone in the building, the noises could have been nothing to worry about, but you don't know that right? You don't know that at all. To assume that you are ok is foolish at best, and suicidal at worst. Clearly, being as quiet as possible is the right thing to do, so as not to draw unwanted attention to your presence. Why then, in here, did I make one of the loudest sounds I have ever made in my life? For some reason to this day I can't fathom out, my hand involuntarily opened, and out tumbled my large iron tripod onto the floor. I wouldn't have been surprised if the residents of neighbouring Dudley had heard it. Frogbox was right here. We may as well of gone round with the radio on. So utterly rubbish.
http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1286/4710859801_b759915e08.jpg
It was time to leave, as quickly and silently as possible. After a potential femoral artery severing issue, we were out, across, down, down, up, over and out. An entry that had taken about 15 minutes was completed in about 2 minutes. It felt good to be alive and safe on the streets of Wolverhampton, a phrase that I can imagine has never, ever been typed before.