Tales of the Urban Explorer: Limes Cottage

It looked like a classic time-capsule, smothered inside a raft of trees and almost hidden from sight, and yet it was not.

“We had better not fuck around, or those nosey bastards are going to spot us”, I mentioned to @anidiotexplores who was doing anything but engaging sloth mode.

There was a path that proceeded the front door once, and still was if you searched hard enough.

I got close enough to touch the encompassing branches, did a 180 and carried on ploughing backwards and hoped there were no sneaky tripwires planted.

Once past the greenery that shrouded us from those nasty interfering busybodies just across the gravelled street we were close enough to identify our target.

‘Limes Cottage’ its boasted, but it was anything but a refuge for an ageing grandma who hypothetically could invite us in for milk and cookies.

This building belongs to the Staffordshire Council and is another member of the ‘Limes House’, ‘Estoril House’ tribe of buildings in this immediate area.

If that innocuous brown door was going to deny us, then we were going to fail. Other than this access point, we were going to be shit out of luck, but on turning the handle it creaked open.

Wow…, that was two on the trot. Front doors rarely open and back to back ones are unheard of.

Stepping inside, we discovered ‘Limes Cottage’ was far from a derpy shithole, and contained ‘stuff’.

CRT’s from the last century are commonplace, I see them all the time. One day they may well be regarded as collectors’ items, but for now they are highly unfashionable.

Teddies and lots of them! The gas fire hosted a strange message in, ‘Do Not Use’.
Other than looking similar to one my grandma owned in the 1970’s, what other uses does it have?

‘Adult Learning Packs’ en-masse. I was not in the mood for learning anything that day besides getting my snaps and getting the fuck out quickly. Just like the last place, next door it was not so comfortable walking around.

Looking more like someone’s cosy cottage rather than a public area, ‘Limes Cottage’ was an unlikely target for a bunch of degenerate Adults who could not read or write.

The ‘education’ packs could well have been about learning how to shit more efficiently, but I am guessing not.

The cupboards were almost bare and once again I should have checked the electric circuits. If they are on then it’s double danger being inside here snooping around.

I hear this is nasty stuff to get pissed on and once done, you will never touch it again. I have never had the pleasure of even a single quaff of the stuff.

A secondary room hosted a bunch of left over goodies. I homed in on the far corner interested in what all that was.

Some of it was quite old, or simply well used. Books regarding ‘Labour’ from the late nineties were causing me some willy droop. The colour was telling me, ‘Politics’, what a load of boring old crap.

Parish Registers or Politics? It wasn’t getting any better, though the former extremely worn volumes were from the late 1920’s.

The far wall was perplexing. It almost looked like some form of art, but close inspection told me otherwise. They had left some clobber behind in ‘Limes Cottage’ for sure.

On the left looked like a flatbed scanner and the right some videos with a scattering of Ethernet cabling, as well as some type of housing cabinet attached to the far wall.

I struggled to read what was written on one of the tapes. Does it say ‘King Arthur and the Holy Grail?’ I was hoping for ‘Debbie’s Adventures with the Window Cleaner’ as well as a working VHS unit to attach to the old discarded CRT in the former room.

Classical bullshit. Apologies if you are a fan, it’s just that I am not.

NOBO SP8 units go for about £40 in working order. I can’t be sure if this example did work. Carousel slide projectors are hardly hot property in today’s world.

The final room appeared to be an art gallery for the ‘other’ buildings that make up this quarter of property.

The oversized photographs appear to be of ‘Estoril House’, the one that got away… sulk.

I can’t be sure what the ‘Apollo’ unit was or used to be. We felt we had spent enough time in ‘Limes Cottage’ by now and were uncharacteristically rushing around.

Leaflets, the type of which are generally ignored unless you happen to be a curious tourist.

Was this some type of social centre? Scrabble, and a well-worn variant at that.

We emerged from ‘Limes Cottage’ quickly and found the adjoining road outside with haste.

It didn’t feel good to me being somewhere that was so well preserved. Could it be my mind is so used to buildings that are dropping apart that anything else better seems ‘dodgy’?

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