Abandoned student accommodation block

(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. Under UK law, trespass without force is a civil offence. I never break into a place, I never photograph a place that is currently occupied, as this would be morally wrong and intrusive, 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 location.  I leave the building as I find it and only enter to take photographs for my own pleasure and to document the building.

 Most people go to the beach to sunbathe, swim, make sandcastles, consume icecream and if it's dark, fornicate. I go for big abandoned tower blocks.

I'd known this place existed for a while. In fact I very much almost came here when I went to that hotel that was pretty much a gust of wind away from being a pile of rubble. But I explored that hotel at night after a long day of adventuring, and short on time as I was, I decided to put this tower back on my to-do list, ready for another day.

I returned sometime later with my buddy, Alice, which turned out to be a smart choice of accomplice because the means of entry was somewhat unconventional and required a degree of badassery. This wasn't a mission for wusses. Check it out!

What we have here is a classic example of brutalist architecture, a style loathed by many, but loved by me for being so awful. This tower is actually historically significant as the first tower block to be built in a national park. Apparently back in 1968 somebody wondered "How can I improve this wonderful natural landscape? I know, I'll add a giant concrete rectangle."
Brutalism is the Tommy Wiseau of architecture. It makes us question precisely what was going on in their minds when they made it, but in the end we have some appreciation for the result because it's so weirdly gharish.

The building was affectionately referred to as "The Block" by the students who lived here. It's twelve floors tall, and built alongside a cliff face, with the main entrance being halfway up, accessed by a footbridge. It was built in 1968 to serve as accommodation for a nearby residential college for mature students. Specifically it was a second-chance college for adults who missed out on higher education earlier on in life, for whatever reason.

The college itself  predates the block by several decades, dating back to 1908, although it wasn't to become a college until 1927. It also had a "great hall" which was built in 1910, but completely obliterated by a fire in 1968  and replaced by a brutalist theatre in 1973. A library had also been added in 1939. So basically the entire complex was a mishmash of different architectural styles from different eras, boasting some of the quirkiest examples of Brutalism out there. It looked like Tracy Island! If there was a pool, I'd expect a rocket to come out of it!

Unlike the Tracys, however, the students here didnt fly rockets. At least, not without the help of hallucinogenics.

Alice and I entered into this old dining hall, where the students once had breakfast cooked for them, as well as their evening meal. Their individual accommodations also had their own mini kitchens but from what I've been told, since the college kept them well fed, the students only really used their personal kitchens for snacks and probably alcohol.

Someone has written "we're all mad here," on the wall, to which someone else has responded with "Nah, you're just fucking weird mate."

Straight away, I can tell this is going to be a fun-graffiti day. Sure we'll see the occasional penis, but we're also going to get stuff that's interesting to read instead of the classically moronic "Idiot A loves Idiot B."

Heres the dining areas trusty dumbwaiter. Interestingly the term "dumbwaiter" came into use due to the contraptions means to deliver the food while isolating the guests from the noise of the kitchen. The use of "dumb" is to imply soundlessness rather than stupidity.

Also, the inventor of the dumbwaiter created it for his daughter, Susan, who is similarly believed to be the namesake of the Lazy Susan, another device used to replace the waiting staff.

The college founder, Mr Jones, was a non-conformist from a small mining village in South Wales.  He was very passionate about education, saying "education is my religion. It is the way to the kingdom of Heaven. The object of adult education is to break down the barriers that hinder the masses from enjoying these riches."

In other words, "being uneducated sucks. Look at folks who believe the Daily Mail and ask yourself: Are they happy? No. Now get back to school."

Jones was already quite successful before the college came about. He had been a professor of economics in Belfast in 1909, only to return to Wales to take part in an anti-tuberculosis campaign, and then go on to become cabinet secretary, offering his skills to multiple prime ministers (not at the same time).

Written across the floor is "What's the number for the Chinese?"
Because the kitchen staff arent here anymore. Hilarious.

While Brutalism isn't exactly the most visually appealing of architectural style, this tower block makes up for it with a rather phenomenal view. I've said it before in some of my Shrewsbury blogs- Brutalist architectures best purpose to society is as a vantage point. You can't see the ugly building cluttering up the view if you're looking out from it.

Over in the distance is the sea, separated from us by a railway line and a golf course.

Someone has written "Dont turn around. They're watching," and someone else has sucked out any ominous vibe by making it say that they're watching Cat in the Hat.

Here it says "my dead nan wants to rape you," to which someone else has added "Nice."

This graffiti refers to a chap called Josh. I spoke about Josh in the hotel blog, but I think it deserves mentioning again. He was a local boy who tragically hung himself in 2016 at the age of eighteen.
By all accounts, he was popular and outwardly happy, so it blew everyone's mind. His funeral was attended by about 300 people, and his family have since created a charity for raising awareness for mental health, the Treehouse Project, which offers counselling sessions, bereavement sessions, and educational suicide prevention talks. His father even walked along the Welsh coast for 24 hours to raise awareness.

I think the fact that the family have made a conscious effort to endure such a tragedy and use it to help others is incredibly commendable.

Stories like this genuinely get to me. People rake in the virtue points on Facebook by sharing posts that say "check up on your friends," but I think sometimes rather than "checking up" on people, it's far better to let them know how much they mean to you. Not everyone is going to respond to "Are you okay," with "Actually I feel disposable as fuck and lonely," whereas if you just tell people that they're valued then it might help them not feel like that to begin with.

Here's the blocks kitchen. This wasn't open 24/7. Past a certain point, if the students wanted any food then their own mini kitchens would have to suffice. However over the decades this kitchen apparently endured many munchie-induced break-ins, as the students plundered the food stock during their many parties.

To continue the story of the colleges founding, Mr Jones the lover of education and sympathiser for the working class ended up meeting an eccentric billionaire by the name of Davison in 1909. Davison, who stuck to a strict diet of nuts and berries, owned the building that would later become the college but so far had only really used it for his other eccentric hobbies, which included hosting musical events with naked ballerinas, and in hilarious contrast, accommodating homeless orphans from London. He was rich, but he cared about the poor.

Davison was a bit of a philosophical anarchist, and he was getting involved a lot in the working class politics of south Wales. He also purchased an old vicarage, and renovated it, just for a local socialist group to use. This raised a few eyebrows and even got his buddy Mr Jones under police surveillance just in case something fishy was going on.
I admit, I know nothing about socialism, except that its hated by all the same grumpy old people on the internet who think that the world is ending when a boy wears a dress, to which I usually just respond with "Stop obsessing over children's genitalia you dumb cunts."

But I digress!

Davison eventually moved out, with his orphans and naked ballerinas, and in 1923 he wrote to Jones asking for his opinion on what he could do with the old house. Jones admitted he hated the thought of such a building falling into the hands of those who couldn't appreciate it and becoming something bland like a hotel. He always thought it could be put to the good of the community.

Jones approached another rich friend who was apparently the biggest wagon owner in the world. He had absolutely no sympathy or interest in helping others but Jones somehow managed to convince him to purchase Davisons property for the sake of adult education. The property was estimated to be worth about £60,000 but Davison, kind as he was, allowed it to go for just £7,500.
Wagon Man wasnt happy with being persuaded to make the purchase but all he asked was that the national anthem be sang at the opening ceremony, to give it some dignity, and that was that.

This huge industrial fridge was the source of a particularly foul odour. I personally couldn't stomach it. I've got quite a sensitive sense of smell, and entering the fridge almost caused me to decorate its interior with my breakfast. Alice could handle it though. Her photo of the fridge interior is below.

Across from the fridge was this storage area. Its all similarly grimey.

Here are the old kitchen staff lockers.

And there's this pretty nifty spiral staircase up to a little store room, too.

What an unusual feature for a kitchen. I love it.

But moving on to the lounge area...

The lounge is actually quite huge, and sounds like it was a pretty cool place back in its day. As well as having considerably more seats, it also had ping pong and pool tables.  Now it's been torn apart by vandals.

I've actually seen this exact corner of the lounge in a documentary about the college. I'll include a screenshot down below, but I've concealed the persons identity, using MS Paint because I'm lazy.

Check it out. The seats are still there, the floor is clean, the wall is okay, and there's curtains on the window. That's a tiny snippet into what this place used to look like.

I really like this eye!

This is interesting. There's some generic graffiti prattling on about the sesh in typical unimaginative drudgeonry, and someone has crosssed it all out.

And then above, they've written "Don't live for the sesh. This is Moan Tower. Leave it that way."

Moan Tower? Why is it called Moan Tower? An old nickname perhaps

The view from the lounge is only a floor lower than the view from the dining hall, so visually similar but I'm going to show it anyway!

From here, the floors below the lounge and the floors above the dining area are purely the students residence, so there's a lot of samey rooms with a lot of samey features. Alice and I did make sure to see the whole thing though, starting right at the bottom and working our way up.

Here's the cellar. It's pretty flooded, so we didn't go in.

Here's a wonderful notice by the barricaded ground floor entrance, clearly put up after the tower closed, to keep out trespassers. Alice and I didn't experience any of these regular patrols or see any cameras. In fact the main college building was actually occupied when we came here, although since it was closed we have no idea who they were. They almost certainly saw us though, and did absolutely nothing as we strolled on by and approached the tower.

The mattresses, stacked and soggy, also had a bit of an odour to them, but it was tolerable, unlike the fridge upstairs.

Also miraculously still pinned to a wall in someones room is an old timetable from 2011.

The stuff that's left behind is actually pretty curious. The pool tables are long gone, but the students mattresses are still here. And look, here's a TV!

When the college first opened its doors in 1927 it had just three students. The aim was to provide a second chance of higher education to adults who, for social or economic reasons, had been unable to get it beforehand. It was a great idea and it saw instant success, its student numbers quickly rising from six to thirty. They entered as miners, railway workers, steel workers and quarry men, but many went on to become lawyers and teachers. One individual who was self-described as "drifting through life" went on to become an economist with the Welsh government. For all the parties and drug use that this place became famous for, the success the college had in reshaping lives and bringing out untapped potential can not be understated.

As you can expect, throwing mud in the face of class segregation back in 1927 caused the college to face immediate media backlash, brought on even harder by the socialist ties of the founder and the beneficiary. Newspapers wrote articles about how the college was a breeding ground of socialist propaganda and consequently the early days required Jones to do a lot of damage control, reassuring the media that whatever his personal political views, his mission here was purely to educate.

Here's a copy of The Times from 2011.

In the 1930s the college opened its doors to the unemployed too, in an attempt to, as Jones put it, battle the spirit of defeatism. Courses for the unemployed were less academic and more practical, such as carpentry and handicrafts.
 This sparked further controversy, this time with those who were opposed to the government putting the unemployed on mandatory courses.

During World war 2, the residential elements of the college closed but the educational facilities remained open. Liverpool University had moved out here to use the campus, at least while bombs were dropping, but in 1942 the army dropped by and took over. They wanted the college to operate as a training facility, and so it remained until the war was over.
By the 1960s there were seventy students, which neccessitated the construction of this accomodation block. The students typically stayed for one academic year but had the option to stay on for another if they wanted.

As well as being a successful institution, the place also seems like a lot of fun. The stories I have heard about the goings-on of this accommodation block are many and varied, often chaotic. To hear some of them, you'd never believe any success came from this place. But it did.
From what I can tell, the courses weren't just designed to be academic, but character building. People got more confident in their abilities. People became disciplined. People went from wasting their lives to reaching a sense of fulfilment. And these people were often disenfranchised. Many had poor experiences with mainstream education. Many had baggage. A painfully large number were simply dyslexic.

And interestingly nobody seems to have any regrets. Many  former students consider their years here as the best of their life. Many look back fondly and lament that the building is the way it is now.

Of the college staff, a few notable names reaccure in the former students narratives. Jeffrey is one. He was the warden in the 1960s. Accounts of him seem fond enough but he wasn't above phoning around the local pubs and asking that they kick the students out if they were late for class.
The college was responsible for many of the wardens grey hairs, and it wasn't just the educational part that caused it, but having to deal with what the students got up to when they weren't in class. It seems that he was very by-the-book and ruled under the impression that the word "mature" in "mature student" could be taken literally. How wrong he was.

He struggled in vain to keep one mature student having secret liasons with the blocks kitchen staff, a food strike when some students felt that the menus were a little unimaginative and should be boycotted, and their "we won't be bribed" attitude that they had when his wife made them tea when he invited them home to discuss matters. But many say that it was the human faeces found outside the college gym that hurt him the most.

The warden also dealt with staff drama. Mr Shaw only wanted to be popular. He was a damn good psychology teacher but on a personal level he was quite lonely and to win people over he would cram his lessons with puns and jokes. He sounds amazing.
But one group of students hatched a dastardly plan, communicated to the wider student body, that at Shaws next speech in the assembly hall, absolutely nobody would laugh at anything he said. Mr Shaw addressed them all, unaware of all this, and when every single joke was met with an awkward silence the humiliation caused him to have a bit of a breakdown and nearly resign. Fortunately the warden talked him around.

And then there was the famous John Davies, affectionately referred to by the students as JD. He had apparently fought in world war 2 and lost his eye. He seemed to approach the topic with some degree of humour, telling the students "If I dont acknowledge you when I pass you in the hall, its not deliberate. At least, not yet."
I did hear a rumour that he eventually killed himself, which is quite sad. 

The college certainly had a niche in the market, but the changing face of education in the 1980s and 1990s stole its thunder somewhat, with higher education facilities increasing across the UK. This place was suddenly less distinctive.

The college introduced a two-year diploma course in 1969, but in the 1980s, Thatcher sent her inspectors in. Apparently they arrived with the clear agenda to prove that students could do their diploma in one year instead of two. This reduction eventually came to pass and many regard it as the beginning of the end for the college. After all, not only had the funding been cut but now they had to recruit twice as many students to remain viable.

The college life was pretty cut off from the rest of the world. Students had come here from all over the UK. Socially all they had was each other and the staff, and any villagers they happened to meet in the rural community they now inhabited. This means that they formed their own community of sorts. And the success of the college aside, it's the students crazy stories that I can't help but smile at.

1973 saw the first of what seem to be many "stuffed man" pranks, where a life-size human rag doll was hung out of the window on floor 8, so that people in the common room thought someone had hung themselves. A similar prank was pulled in 1978, but instead of hanging, they simply threw the stuffed man out of the top floor window, resulting in screams of terror from the nearby golf club, who thought someone actually had just fallen to their death.

1978 also saw numerous police drug raids, numerous parties, students abseiling down the side of the tower exterior, and a number of students doing a strip tease at the college Christmas event. I dont know if Jeffrey was still the warden at that point but I'm sure he would have loved it.

Of the parties in the late 1970s, one involved a pipe bursting but the students, completely apathetic to the situation, simply continued dancing as the water level rose around their knees.

And then of course, we have the elevator-related pranks, often involving pressing every single button so that it went to every single floor. Someone once even unscrewed the plate on the lift control panel, slid some cardboard in, and screwed the plate back on, causing every button to be pressed without any actual input. That was perhaps the tamest, but arguably most genius elevator-themed prank that I've heard. Some students actually somehow managed to steal a sheep from a nearby farm and leave that in the lift to greet anyone who happened to call the lift.

Other works of genius involved someone fiddling with the pay phone in the main entrance, so that it accepted 2p coins as 10p, and let people make incredibly cheap calls.

Some stories are more personal, aimed at specific individuals that I guess we'd have to know to truly appreciate- In 1994 one student regularly came home completely drunk every Saturday night, and passed out while trying to cook, often resulting in the fire alarms going off and the building being evacuated. It happened with such regularity that some of the students put a pretty realistic-looking poster up in the theatre reading "College Amateur Dramatic Society proudly presents 'The burning of the toast,' starring xxxxxx xxxxxx. Performances most Sundays at 1:30am."

And in 1996 the students turned an entire bathroom on the fifth floor into a brewery, where they made their own alcohol for their parties.

I've also seen Youtube videos displaying students doing less-exciting and arguably stupider things, like sniffing lines of washing machine powder. That  doesnt sound too clever but I once willingly went to Walsall so who am I to judge anyones decisions?

Here on the stairway is some wisdom. "Shrek 2 is the best." I actually agree. It's one of those rare occasions where a sequel is better than the original.

The floors are numbered, and naturally this provides a playground for those who want to write graffiti. However I fail to see the logic in crossing out "7" to write "9/11" when floor 9 is just a couple of floors away.

Still in better condition than the toilets in some pubs and clubs.

The existing buildings, including this tower block and the nearby theatre, were slowly falling behind in upkeep and maintenance as a result of the colleges funding issues. One former student even claims that she could see the water in her toilet flowing back and forth as the tower swayed in the wind- something one really want it to do so noticeably. Despite this, the college spent a huge amount on plans for a new educational centre in 2009. The aim was to completely turn around the decline and turn it into a major centre of excellence in the UK. They got planning permission, but the funding to actually carry out the project was never secured, leaving them with debts of around £900,000. A lot of people were pretty miffed that the college had spent thousands on planning when they had no financial backing, and the people who were running it around this point are pretty much regarded as incompetent. Some even say that they were even recruited and retained for their ineptitude because the powers that be wanted the college to fail. Allegedly the principal ended up fleeing the scene to work in a B&Q.

This tower block was already considered unfit for use but nevertheless, it was still being occupied right up until 2011 when the remaining students were given accomodation at a nearby care home instead. The tower closed, followed by the theatre in 2016, inspite of the colleges attempts to pay off the debt by selling 350 pieces of artwork.

The college itself closed in 2017. For many it was the end of an era.

In the upper floors, the graffiti gets somewhat more interesting. Someones done this really awesome face.

"Baby you mean the world to someone."

"Tbh... just love."

Seriously all the graffiti up here is fuzzy happy positive stuff. No badly drawn penises among them. It's quite refreshing.

Here's the Genie from Aladin if he was played by Homer Simpson.

"I lost my homework."

I think Alice took this picture. Someones made Floor 8 say "Blink 182."

This made me laugh. Someone has drawn a person in the shower. I seem to recall similar graffiti at Denbigh Asylum. I wonder if they were done by the same person.

Here seems to be a debate over which porn site is the best.

Oh look, it's the obligatory swastika scrawled by some edgy teenager who would probably be thrown in a camp themselves under a Nazi regime for being retarded.
Oh and theres 9/11, this time done without having to cross out the 7 two floors below.

I think graffiti is a bit like the internet. Some people talk because they have something to say, but most people talk because they have to say something.

 I thought for a moment "we must be in Telford."

I dont know who this Bryan chap is but given that he actually has a name plaque I assume he might have actually been the site warden at the time of closure. Allegedly at some point the flat on the top floor actually was the wardens accomodation.

Interestingly it's up here that the graffiti is the most creative. But then, this seems to be the floor that everyone hangs out on. It does, after all, have the balcony view.

"All men are born equally but only the best are born in August." This is flat out wrong. I was born in July and I'm bloody awesome.

"Everyone's either called Mark or not called Mark."
That's... actually true.

This wall is quite touching. It's been used specifically for Josh, the boy who hung himself, making some kind of memorial.

I think it's quite nice that out of everyone else who has come along and scribbled on a wall or smashed a window, this memorial has been left untouched. I think if anything can be learned from suicide, its that we should let people know that we care about them while we still have them.

My personal beef with suicide is all the drudgeons on Facebook raking in the sympathy with their "I miss them" status updates when they never even looked at them while they were alive. Its worth living longer just to spite these people.

 But having suffered with my own mental health, the best advice I can give is that if you are depressed then delete your Facebook for a bit, just to escape the reality-warped fog that is internet socialising, and engage in the real world. It can be quite shocking realising how different the two are. In the real world, people aren't on eggshells about offending people, and everyones typically more polite and less selfish. Dont worry about what people will think- they won't even notice as long as their next picture gets sufficient likes. You'll feel better for it.

ANYWAY!!! Onto a cheerier topic: the view! Its  announced by this graffiti next to the balcony door.

It is pretty amazing up here.

Heres the college building, with the Brutalist theatre at the far end. We tried to get into that too but were sadly unable. Luckily so, too, because in spite of its boarded up windows it was actually occupied.

And over in the other direction is that big abandoned hotel. It would have been quite grand back in the day, overlooking the sea as it does. I think they may finally have gotten around to demolishing it now.

Down below, a train is rumbling by.

The college itself was purchased in 2019 by some rich businessman. What this means for the tower block, in considerably worse shape, remains to be seen. I read somewhere that there was talk to use it as an accommodation block in collaboration with aerospace centre, but so far nothing has happened. The tower remains rotting away on the coastline, gathering dust, rats and graffiti.

That's all I got. Next time I'm checking out a beautiful mansion and after that I'm checking out an abandoned hospital. As always, share the blog, and follow me on Instagram, like my Facebook page and follow my Twitter.

Thanks for reading!