On our way to another location, we stumbled across this small derelict building protruding from a great big bush. As it was raining, so we didn't get any external shots, and since we weren't planning on finding this place, we didn't know what it was either. We simply saw a building that was clearly derelict, and decided to check it out, and find out what it was based on what we found inside.
And of course, we have the internet to help. Can my precious internet help provide a backstory to a generic derelict building at the side of a road? Of course it can! It's the entirety of recorded human knowledge at our fingertips. Just because some people use it to call everyone racist on Twitter, doesn't make it evil! Or to quote Professor X, it's like a pen. You might use it to draw a pretty picture or you might use it to jab someone in the eye, but it's still just a pen. Granted he was talking about psychic powers, not the internet, but who cares? They're almost the same thing. I can tell what everyones doing with both, whether I want to or not.
The photo is taken from streetview. The time rewind on Streetview actually goes back as far as 2009, and nothing has changed, except the jungle in the yard retreats back and looks like a timber yard again. The building, however, is unaltered. It looked like this even back then. Of interest to me is that little chunk of wall there that was clearly added at a later date, indicative that there were perhaps steps leading up to the yard, or maybe someone crashed a bus into the wall and it had to be replaced. I don't know. I'm not the mainstream media. I'm not going to just look at an imperfect chunk of wall and say "The gays/muslims/straight white men did it." No, we deal in facts here, and when facts aren't apparent, speculation will do, so long as we make sure to call it such.
Old maps show this building as far back as 1900, but unlabeled. While derelict by 2009, the interior indicates that its last usage was as a Travis Perkins. For those who don't know, this is a builders merchants, specialising in building materials, timber, bathrooms, kitchens, power tools, landscaping materials, and painting / decorating materials. The company actually dates back to 1797 but wasn't known as Travis Perkins until 1988, the name constantly amalgamating based on constant merging.
Entering into the building was pretty easy. The path had been made by others who had come before us. This isn't at all unusual.
Nevertheless, we were still surprised by what we found in here. Wooden boards had been propped up on various desks in what looks like an attempt to make a skatepark.
That's pretty cool and creative. Some might see this ingenuity and think that the kids are hoodlums who need stopping, but not me. Clearly the kids were bored and they decided to create an area where they could have some harmless fun. Good for them.
But water damage had rotted the wooden boards, putting them beyond use now, as the weight of a skateboard or bike would probably snap it like soggy cardboard. If this had been the place to be for local kids, it was a long time ago.
Given that Travis Perkins moved from here at some point prior to 2009, it's kinda surprising to see various signs and stuff still here. The company still exists. In fact the town of this location still has a branch active! I don't understand why they didn't move everything out when they left the premises.
Loads of ornamental mugs on a shelf behind the desk.
Here's an electric rat!
Here's a trophy from Quiz Night 1995.
In the stock room is an old computer monitor.
And here's a really creepy rabbit.
This building was in the vicinity of a toll house. In fact it may have actually have been the toll house, but I'm not sure. They tend to be right on the road, so that people passing through can hand over the dosh without leaving their steeds back. It's plausible that the pavement is new, or that the building is on the site of a previously existing toll house. All I know is that some records show that it once had a stone slab fixed to the exterior wall with a list of various tolls, differing depending on what people were taking through the town, listing different prices for number of wagons and type of livestock. The last toll was apparently collected in 1885 to mark the end of toll collection.
The staff kitchen is pretty grimy, having seemingly just been left on the last day of work.
The Travis Perkins mission statement still hangs on the wall.
And now onto the best part of any derelict building- the toilets.
They're still cleaner than the toilets in some pubs and clubs. And look, there's still a little bit of toilet paper.
It seems that Travis Perkins is particularly big on long-winded mission statement posters, because rather than just have a sign that says "Wash your hands, bud," we get this masterpiece entitled "Simple rules for a hygienic branch"
What amuses me about signs like this is that they usually come into being because someone has gotten fed up with all the things listed being done. So from this, we can assume that someone who worked here was a massive slob.
The actual staff office is pretty tiny.
Here's a blazer hanging up.
A printer still in its box.
Here's a nice little poem written on a certificate to be awarded to the office moaner. In my experience, the office moaner is often either the office slob, fed up of being asked to flush the toilet after themself, or the person who is often telling the office slob to flush the toilet after themself.
However this moaners degree is awarded to "Dad" so presumably whoever worked here recieved this from his children and hung it up in his office.
Fortunately for the office moaner, there's also a poster offering tips on thinking positive, which I actually can't mock, because it's cheesy but true.
Oh, here we have a mug shot of a shoplifter. Give this guy a round of applause for stealing from a timber yard. That shit's heavy!
There is an upstairs area, labeled "Staff Only." Presumably this was a stock room but also a possible break room given that the downstairs staff area consists of a tiny office.
There's a beano annual from 1997.
And there's a bath up here, which presumably was stock.
An old cash register.
Illuminati graffiti, which makes a nice change from badly drawn penises. The door next to it leads to a drop. Upstairs doors are actually a common sight in a lot of old buildings, because there would have been a rope and pulley system to lift coal and other stock into the building.
Check out these vintage troll dolls! Somewhere out there a collector is screaming at the poor condition that these are in, and I understand. I'd feel the same if this was a vintage Transformer.
And lastly there's a typwriter.
And that's all I've got. This was a quick detour of a larger road trip, and while it was unplanned, that sort of adds to the charm. It's not as if we went online and said "Oh, there's a derelict Travis Perkins. Let's swing by." No, it was an accidental discovery, and that brings its own appeal.
As for what the future holds, it has been proposed that a Tesco be built here, which is a nice alternative to the standard pattern of progress, demolishing old original buildings to throw up a copycat housing estate.
Next time, I'm checking out a derelict church, which I love, and then continuing on to a nuclear bunker in the blog after that. In the meantime, share the blog, like my Facebook, follow my Instagram, and follow my Twitter.
Thanks for reading!
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