The Hermitage from Middle Earth

(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.)

There once was a sheep farmer who wanted to build a barn. Once he'd finished it, he decided to add to it, so that he could live there during lambing season, or if he, relatably, just wanted to get away from the human race occasionally. And so the barn became a hermitage. He then added to it, and then added to it again, and again, and again until finally he admitted, in his own words, that he got a bit carried away.

On todays adventure, my handler friend Jess and I, joined by her friend Katie, trekked to this bizarre place, not quite sure to what extent of eccentricity we would end up finding. The nearby quarry was quite active, and this meant that traffic was quite frequent. I'd heard stories that the quarry owner was quite hostile to intruders, so I had to be stealthy. Jess and Katie followed in all their gravity-challenged glory. By the time we made it to the hermitage, I was the only one who hadn't tripped over. Nevertheless, we musn't mock my clumsy friends too much. Teaming up with other explorers has benefitted the blog immensely.

Given the size of the location, I struggled to get the entirety of the hermitage in one shot, settling in the end for a panorama, which you can see below.

This delightfully absurd building took about eleven years to build. It all started in the 1980s when the man in question had an accident and decided to put his compensation money to purchasing some land. He began collecting stones that he happened to find lying around and in 1989 he set out to make something completely unique. The building isn't ancient, but it sure looks like something out of a medieval fairy tale. Some call it the Hobbit House, but I want to refrain from such a thing. Firstly because the man who built it says he dislikes that nickname, and secondly because everyone knows that hobbits live underground, therefore to call this place a hobbit house is like calling a birds nest a dog kennel. It sounds stupid. However I do keep the reference to Middle Earth in the blog title, because I imagine this sort of dwelling wouldn't look too out of place there.

In 2000 the man packed up and moved to Scotland, abandoning his bizarre project. Rumours tell that there was a dispute over planning permission, but he has been quick to deny these. According to him, he abandoned the land because of the nearby quarry. As soon as the quarry opened, he realised that his quiet eccentric getaway would get a stream of loud lorries and machinery every single day, and he could really do without all that. He does admit that parting with the hermitage was hard to do, and I totally get that working on a creative project for over a decade and then having to just leave it in a field to deteriorate with time would be a real dampener on the day. But to his credit, the hermitage still stands, nearly two decades later. It looks like it shouldn't. It looks like a good gust of wind will reduce this building to a pile of rubble. But it's surprisingly stable, and shows no signs of falling apart. It's also miraculously free of vandalism. There's a broken window but that's it.

Check out the floor tiles in the main entrance! It makes the bizarre building seem surprisingly homely, and gives it a Victorian-era vibe.

There's a log bench facing a window where the owner would have maybe sat with a coffee and enjoyed the view.

There's a sink lying on the floor. I don't know if the owner was originally going to have running water installed but that would have been impressive.

Looking around, the building is covered in little shelves and places where one might put candles and ornaments. This place would look quite magical if it was cleaned and decorated, both inside and outside. Just imagine what this place would look like at night if it was lit up with candles! With a little TLC this place could be bloody spectacular.

Presumably this was the barn portion, given that it has a wooden gate and hay. However when it comes to architecture, even the livestock didn't miss out on the eccentricity.

There's a memorial plaque for Mrs Bethia Barleycorn, "Goose of this parish," who lived from March to December in 1989 and is buried here.
I googled the lifespan of a goose, and it's considerably larger than this. In fact, Geese normally live for around 10-15 years, but it's not unheard of for them to make it to forty.
So I wonder if there's a story to Bethia Barleycorn. Perhaps she was born with some form of illness or deformity, and the owner took care of her and attempted to nurse her back to health. Who knows? Short of digging up her remains, the questions will go unanswered.
It's nice that she got married though. It's somewhat uplifting that in her ten months in the mortal realm she found love. I'm happy for you, Bethia Barleycorn.

There are two ways upstairs, one being a rather boring, but sturdy ladder, and the other being a more artistic stairway.

There's a lamp hanging from a hook which would have once lit the upper floor by candle light. It would have been quite atmospheric at night time back when it was still in use.

Light came down from this domed ceiling and up above, high above my head, were even more shelves.

And here's the bedroom, still with the bed in there, although not looking as cozy as it perhaps once did. Next to it is a stained glass window, which the owner made himself.

Moving back outside, the next portion of the bizarre house was accessible via another external door.

There's a decorative stone above the door, but if this is symbolic of anything in particular, I don't know. The inside, however, is amazing.

This is perhaps the most homely part of the entire place, certainly appearing liveable.

There are stairs here too, but curiously, they don't go anywhere, except to a tiny circular room, from which one can peek out at the room downstairs.

The circular room is covered with these little shelves, likely for putting candles on.

And there's a window overlooking the courtyard.

However, the most intriguing part of this particular part of the building is the stained glass windows.
The owner and creator incorporated into them the themes of the four seasons and the four elements. Although which windows correlate with which elements and seasons seems to be open to interpretation. I'm sure going to share my thoughts though!

The window on the right has a bird flying over the hermitage at dusk, and the one next to it, the smashed portion, once depicted a badger hiding away. Perhaps evocative of Autumn, with the early nights and hibernation. The fact that it depicted a badger burrowing away made me think of the element, Earth.

Here we have a reflective lake on one side, no doubt symbolic of water, and a gloomier depiction of the sky above the hermitage, possibly symbolic of winter.
Look very closely and you'll see a tiny yellow diamond next to the gloomy image, containing the initials of the man who built the place, with the date 1989.

The snowdrops are likely symbolic of spring. Perhaps the warm colours on the left are symbolic of fire? Air and fire are the only elements left, assuming I was right about placing the water and earth elements. Honestly, I'm finding it a challenge to match the elements to the seasons. The lake is quite obviously symbolic of water, but perhaps the autumn depiction of a bird flying is meant to be symbolic of air, and the spring depiction of flowers growing after winter is Earth, leaving the warm colours of summer to be fire? I guess its open to interpretation.

In the Spring window, a spider is painted onto the glass. Initially I thought it was a genuine spider, which is probably how the artist intended it.

This window is symbolic of summer, although it seems my camera had a bit of a fart during the taking of this shot.

Lastly there is this little barn.

This is some kind of livestock scale, for weighing animals.

There's also this really odd yellow room, with symetrical shelves but no discernable purpose. It's decorated more so than other areas, so it was clearly important. Perhaps he had plans to make it into a toilet room.

Among the external quirks was this obvious stairway, appearing as though it was intended to go somewhere at some point. Perhaps it was for mounting a horse, or perhaps he was still adding to this place when he felt compelled to abandon it.

The house also includes dovecotes. Allegedly many birds made this place their home, including one owl.
Personally birds have given me the willies ever since I got trapped in a derelict brothel in the dark with eight terrified pigeons, but on rooftop adventures they're somewhat more tolerable. They just fly away.

There's another, unfinished portion being reclaimed by nature nearby.

Looking at the building, with the unfinished turrets and the external stairs to nowhere, it seems obvious that he was still creating at the time that he gave it all up. Which raises two questions- What would this look like if he'd continued, and has he made anything since?
He returned to visit once in 2007, evidently still attached to the place, but otherwise he seems to have moved on.

To conclude, while I'm ridiculously happy that places like this exist, I feel that the fact one needs to trespass to see them is a crime greater than the trespass itself. Places like this should be protected and enjoyed. I personally would love to live here if it was weatherproof and within reasonable distance of civilisation. Just me and the ghost of Bethia Barleycorn. I bet she's lovelier than the last thing I conversed with on a ouija board, anyway. Bethia, come and save me from this invisible thing that keeps coming into my room and strangles me when I'm trying to sleep. I always get an erection and it's super awkward.

Anyway, I've fallen in love with this house, and it was a shame to leave it behind. As sturdy as it is, it'll probably get overtaken by nature eventually and left for future generations to discover. One thing I think we can agree on- it's a shame that it's going to waste.

Anyway share this blog wherever you want, at least until Facebook bans it. Next time, I get chased by llamas. And then, I make my long overdue return to Shropshire, and the Motherblog, Shrewsbury From Where You Are Not. I haven't posted anything there since last year! In the meantime, Subscribe to Jess's Youtube, Follow my Instagram, Like my Facebook page and Follow my Twitter.

Thanks for reading!