Hello! This is the first post on this new blog. For anyone who came here that doesn't know, assuming you exist, I did a blog called "Shrewsbury from where you are not," which started out rooftopping in my hometown which, if the title isn't obvious, is Shrewsbury. But gradually it became an adventure blog showing various obscure locations in the Shropshire region. The locals seem to enjoy it, too. But over the years I started blogging things that were more further affield, which made the blog title somewhat inaccurate. Nobody complained except me, just so you know. I'm my own biggest critic. On the plus side, using that logic if I say that I'm awesome, then I must be really really awesome. And guess what? I'm pretty awesome! But I digress!
A lot of my upcoming adventures aren't in Shropshire, and while I've not held back from posting non-local adventures in a local blog before, they were always uncommon one-offs, whereas I now have quite a lot coming up, and given that the majority of support for the other blog comes from locals who can relate to the locations in question, I decided that it was time to put my other adventures elsewhere. This is a travel blog. This is the expansion of my bubble. However this won't be detrimental to the Shropshire blog. I'll be posting in that right after this one. But first, I have to get this one off my chest like a spontaneous musical number in a pie shop.
The facts were these-
Niall and I were heading to another location, far away, when we spotted this big building nestled away in the foggy countryside. It was clearly derelict, and had been for some time. It was also clear from the kicked in rear entrance that we weren't the first to notice. But we didn't know what it was until we snuck inside, and we were mindblown. It was a wool mill that had been converted into a museum.
A few months after, Niall returned to check on the mill and it was trashed and looted.
Needless to say we were pretty annoyed, but it is what it is, and what you see here is the wool mill museum, in a much better state than it sadly ended up.
While the building itself was jawdroppingly immaculate, there were little clues dotted around that indicated that the place had not been open for a while. Would a step-ladder really be in the main hall, with all this clutter, if there was a tour due?
And given that it was open to the public as a museum, it's still full of various bits, like this map. Curiously, this map is labeled pre-1987, meaning that this is what the mill used to look like, but might now be completely different.
It's a gorgeous building, dating back to 1820. Originally it opened as a corn mill, but in 1852 it converted into a wool mill. It carded, dyed, spun, and wove wool obtained from the local sheep, who in turn lamented that they were now bred in captivity, when their prehistoric ancestor, Andrewsarchus (Andy for short) was a vicious carnivore as big as a car. The mill was completely powered by water until 1860, and once had a water wheel that has since been removed, but replicated elsewhere in the building.
It's got a remarkable layout, stripped of much of its content but still retaining much of its character.
Thanks to the map I was able to ascertain that prior to 1987, this was the first aid office.
I learned while researching this that the building was reduced to an empty shell by a huge fire in 1889 but was actually rebuilt in 1902, meaning that I'm completely uncertain about how much of this buildings layout has any resemblance to what stood here prior to the fire. Presumably it would have been rebuilt much the same way as it had once been, but it would have given the new owners an opportunity to change things here and there.
I'm not sure why there's a bedroom here, but it's clearly not being lived in.
The mill is proud of its history, and has collected vast quantities of old photographs and newspaper articles relating to it, and displayed them here, for nobody to ever see now that it's closed.
There's also this really awesome old wooden car, big enough for a child to sit in, with pedals and steering. They dont make them like this anymore!
Up on the next floor was evidence of a cafe, with the counter and till still present as well as various drinks that had passed their expiry date. According to the map on the ground floor, this would have been the floor where the blending, carding and spinning took place, prior to 1987. It was very cluttered up here, as if all of the furniture had been moved to this floor from all over the mill, but that makes sense given that the nearby fire exit was also the delivery point where the goods came in, and therefore a logical place to unload all this stuff away in a truck. All this stuff was brought here, but then never loaded up and taken away.
The mill closed in February 2017, due to financial issues. Allegedly one of the left-behind posessions at the mill was a ten-foot grizzly bear statue that used to be situated at the side of the road leading up to the entrance, but this caused some drama after the mill closed, as a motorist thought that it was a real grizzly bear, and swerved off the road. According to the article where I read this, the deadline for the previous owners to remove all posessions from the site had expired, and the offending grizzly bear was taken into police custody.
It wasn't there when Niall and I got here, so presumably, going by that article, all of the objects present in the site were similarly past their expired deadline for removal. The previous owners seemingly didn't want them, and moved on to newer things.
The locals sure were upset about the removal of the bear though, seeing as it had sat in that spot for fifteen years and only caused one roadside accident in all that time, and they even held a protest to keep it, which I think is great! In the rest of the world people are protesting brexit, female genital mutilation, or more serious issues like manspreading and the name of Mothercares man-sized tissues, but this town came together in unity for the sake of a ten-foot grizzly bear statue that was causing roadside accidents. That's beautiful!
Now here's an antique! And I bet it still works, too!
Here's a record, still in its original casing, of Richard Wagners "The Valkyrie" which is part of a larger collection called "The ring of the Nibelung." Thank you, Wikipedia.
Wagner apparently wrote this music over the course of many years, from 1848 to 1874, so I'm pretty sure this is reasonably valuable.
This sign advertises the cafe that used to be here, promising tea, coffee and food.
The money has gone, but I find it hilariously ironic given that the contents of this room are probably worth more than whatever was in this cash tray anyway.
There's a Christmas tree, all bound up and ready to go.
It seems that while the mill did offer tours around, it still retained its function as a mill on the top floor, and access wasn't always allowed.
This letter offers some insight into the closure of the mill, with the occupant owing £863.45 for gas and electric, with an additional charge of £60 being added just for the guy coming to disconnect their power supply but finding the place unoccupied. The thing is, someone has to have opened this letter and taken it up to the top floor, so it definitely wasn't entirely unoccupied at the time... It does reveal that there were issues before closure though.
Up at the top of the stairs were noticeboards that explained the process of the factory work, along with everyones favourite part of any explore... the toilets.
Oh God...
Well that's still in better condition than the toilets in some pubs and nightclubs.
Moving on!
I couldn't help but chuckle at the sight of this toilet though. I guess the staff felt the same way about them that I do.
Aaaand I presume the one behind this door is pretty gruesome too.
Signs indicate that the tour continued through the factory floor.
And this noticeboard perfectly explains the mills history in a little more depth. It tells of how the Roberts family obtained the mill at the start of the 20th Century and procured a contract to make wool goods for British forces.
It doesn't mention the fire of 1889, but given that it was essentially derelict until 1902, it ties in nicely. The Roberts family clearly purchased it, fixed it up, and began a wool empire.
But there's so much more to it than that. In 1917, the mill began training disabled men to work in the mill. Although it's not mentioned on this board, I wouldn't be at all surprised if this was so that they could serve the war effort during wartime, given that they couldn't fight on the frontlines, and especially given that in 1927 the British Legion acquired the factory and used it to provide jobs for ex-servicemen who had been disabled in the first world war.
Over the next few years it continued this pattern, extending the mill in 1937 and again in 1944, recruiting men who had been disabled during World War 2.
To me, that's great. It must be a massive blow to the self esteem to fight for the country against Nazis and come home with only one leg, kissing normal life goodbye because of an angry dwarf. For this mill to then provide work for them is something special.
The noticeboard then gets somewhat less exciting, explaining how the mill was acquired by the council in 1981, and then sold in 1992. Following the re-opening under new ownership, it seems that it enjoyed functioning as a mill and a museum right up until its unfortunate closure in 2017. The owners then seemingly left all this behind, and their grizzly bear got arrested.
The board also has pictures of what the mill used to look like back when it had a water wheel.
Once these shelves would have been filled. The stock, it seems, has been cleared out.
The actual factory machinery, however, is still here, ready for someone to come along and start up the entire thing again.
There are a few dolls up here. In fact it's the cast of Super Ted. For those who don't know, this was an old cartoon about an unwanted teddy bear that was first given life by that spotty alien on the left, and then given super powers to fight crime with by a woman who lives in a cloud.
This entire premise raises a load of questions. If an extraterrestrial has the power to bring inanimate objects to life and wants to fight crime, I'm sure it can find something more suitable than a teddybear.
I seem to remember Super Ted, while a simple constumeless teddybear at the start of the show, didn't put his superhero costume on, but instead took his fur off, revealing the costume underneath his skin... As kids we didn't question it, but looking back, it seems a little problematic to fight crime with no skin. If anyone wants to stop Super Ted, just throw salt at him!
There's a chef statue up here, missing his hand. Presumably he would have been outside back when the cafe was open.
There's still wool up here.
And here's Super Ted himself. Perhaps he came to the wool mill to buy some new skin.
Ah, that's better! A bit dusty, but it's been a year since anyone came up here.
Now this machine is pretty awesome. The wool is still in it!
Beyond this door were the staff offices and kitchen.
The fridge has been emptied and left open.
Evidently proud of their history and achievements, the office had a little noticeboard with some old articles, pictures and some weaving.
Nearby was also a tool room.
Beyond the main mill building, we came to the main museum area, which was pitch black. It was basically a maze, with no windows, and with the lights off. Ordinarily, this isn't a problem. I've explored places in the dark before. However, this did make me jump- I wasn't expecting there to be mannequins... Needless to say, I was thrilled!
This is bloody amazing! I've never explored anything like this before!
Here's a replica of the old wooden water mill that was once situated outside.
Given that the place had closed down, we did have to scramble through some clutter in this maze, and all around us were mannequins lurking in the corners.
Apparently twerking was all the rage in the Victorian wool industry!
The notice on the wheelchair talks about how the mill recruited disabled soldiers.
The museum ended in this room, which is designed in a way reminiscent of a chapel, with pews and whatnot. But it seems that this was more of a presentation room.
There's one last mannequin lurking in the corner.
Just off from the museum are a few more store rooms, mostly filled with more furniture. But in one of the rooms was this fancy stairway leading up to some kind of attic.
Honestly I've never seen a means of accessing an attic as pretty as this.
There's a bit of damp congregating here. Oh dear!
The attic is empty, except for...
Well, so were some of the staff here back in the 1940s, and they weren't kept in the attic. Bring the poor guy down!
Stairs led down to a cafe, and this was where the building was starting to show just how worn it was. The cafe kitchen was flooded, and we found ourselves paddling in about an inch of water. Luckily it wasn't too widespread.
I'm not sure when J20 expires, but I probably wouldn't drink this.
Oddly, the cafe area seems the most telling that the place is no longer in use. While the factory floor and the museum are pretty much left as they were, the kitchen area is incredibly messy.
The counter still has all of its signs around it, but the clutter indicates that it won't be opening any time soon.
The chairs are all still around the tables though.
Beyond here is the gift shop! And at the time that these pictures were taken, it was still fully stocked.
Obviously there's no money in the till, and the CCTV cameras aren't on, so the security monitor is blank.
It sure is eerie seeing the shelves so tidy though.
There are loads of mannequins in here, none of them wearing clothes.
Obviously, being a wool mill, there's a big emphasis on sheep.
That's all I have for today. Remember, this is a new blog, and if you want to help it get off the ground, share this page wherever you want. My next blog post is actually on my Shropshire blog... it's a nuclear bunker! In the meantime Like my Facebook page, Follow my Instagram, Subscribe to my Youtube and Follow me on Twitter!
Thanks for reading!
