G
Gemini
Guest
Guest
The day began with a phone call from Mini at 8am on the dot. I was seriously hungover and needed all my strength to haul myself out of bed and into the shower. My head hurt, my liver ached and I had worrying pains in my chest. None the less I had the ice scrapped off my car and was at Mini's for 9am to meet him and MrChill and set off on our journey. To Preston and beyond!
A couple of hours later we were in the grounds of Whittingham asylum. Strolling up the main path, we were quickly confronted by security who informed us that we were banned from taking any photographs of the grounds and that we must not try to enter any of the buildings. Bugger!
We walked around and tried to decide what to do. Hiding in the woods and circling the area several times while playing cat and mouse with the security we only managed to gain access to the old nurses quarters which were in a serious state of corrosion.
Eventually we attempted another building but found no floor on any of the access points and so called it quits. By this time my legs were cut and scratched all over from the thorns we had been trampling in in thin trousers.
Next stop was The Filter Bunker in Goosnargh. We ventured down, underground. I could not believe how good condition the site was in. Even the signs and white board menu had not been touched. After examining the operations room, MrChill and I turned our torches off and were silent for a minute in the pitch black. This place was spooky, but I loved it.
After the bunker we decided to have a look at the River Dance cargo ship which had grounded off the coast of Blackpool. We raced there as the sun sank below the horizon, all the time the murky water we had waded through in the bunker soaked into the cuts on my legs and stung so much I was sweating from the pain.
We reached the beach and saw the mighty ship, beached and forlorn not far off the shore. We raced across the sand and set up to take some pictures as the setting sun threw up brilliant colours across the western coast.
Mini
Mini and MrChill
Me
Me and the River Dance
The River Dance
My hands were numb from the cold sea breeze, my legs stung from the freezing salt water I had paddled in, my head hurt from the hang over, I was exhorted and both my camera battery's were dead.
It was time to head home, stopping for a few pints along the way, before a nice warm shower and a comfy bed to sleep. A great day.
A couple of hours later we were in the grounds of Whittingham asylum. Strolling up the main path, we were quickly confronted by security who informed us that we were banned from taking any photographs of the grounds and that we must not try to enter any of the buildings. Bugger!
We walked around and tried to decide what to do. Hiding in the woods and circling the area several times while playing cat and mouse with the security we only managed to gain access to the old nurses quarters which were in a serious state of corrosion.
Eventually we attempted another building but found no floor on any of the access points and so called it quits. By this time my legs were cut and scratched all over from the thorns we had been trampling in in thin trousers.
Next stop was The Filter Bunker in Goosnargh. We ventured down, underground. I could not believe how good condition the site was in. Even the signs and white board menu had not been touched. After examining the operations room, MrChill and I turned our torches off and were silent for a minute in the pitch black. This place was spooky, but I loved it.
After the bunker we decided to have a look at the River Dance cargo ship which had grounded off the coast of Blackpool. We raced there as the sun sank below the horizon, all the time the murky water we had waded through in the bunker soaked into the cuts on my legs and stung so much I was sweating from the pain.
We reached the beach and saw the mighty ship, beached and forlorn not far off the shore. We raced across the sand and set up to take some pictures as the setting sun threw up brilliant colours across the western coast.
Mini
Mini and MrChill
Me
Me and the River Dance
The River Dance
My hands were numb from the cold sea breeze, my legs stung from the freezing salt water I had paddled in, my head hurt from the hang over, I was exhorted and both my camera battery's were dead.
It was time to head home, stopping for a few pints along the way, before a nice warm shower and a comfy bed to sleep. A great day.
