Just in time, I figure. One year later, I read that 'Sandall Park Nurseries' has been demolished and is gone forever.

Not that there was much to look at in the first place, and it was a pain in the arse to get in, to boot.

Parking in a nearby shopping centre car park, it was either stride past a house that was obliviously inhabited, try your luck with the large gate that was edged with barbed wire, or enter via the back, through a jungle of brambles, nettles and many plants intent on tripping us.

This image of the front way was taken AFTER we had been inside, and might have been easier as the upper centre part lacks the deadly wire that is the scourge of men's ball sacks.

Nobody came out of the house playing Karen, but we didn't know that.

It was better to play safe by climbing over a 'different smaller' fence, next to a busy roundabout with many Karen cars honking, and that's before the jungle part.

After following another inner fence for what seemed forever, one section had been torn apart by ravaging pretend explorers come vandals, and that was our cue to enter the local Amazon.

If you didn't click the link above, the short and narrow of 'Sandall Park Nurseries' is that it was a council-owned property that cultivated plants, flowers and shrubs for the Doncaster area.

Now that every council is skint and pretty flowers are hardly the priority, it was closed around 2000 and has since been vandalised and smashed to pieces.

Having passed the deadly plants, it was a lot more accommodating inside. One had to step over the Herras fencing, but that's nothing new to the likes of us.

There are still plants and shrubs growing in 'Sandall Park Nurseries', but they are not the head-turning types sown into the soil on the many roundabouts and clearways of Doncaster.

A multitude of poor-quality graffiti soon engulfed our eyes, adding contentment to our inner psyche.

That is one long rusty corrugated iron wall, full of equally terrible scrawls.

Now then, that looks very familiar. The same brain that wrote the immortal word of 'Nigger' was also at 'Asken Fencing'. It's not far from 'Sandall Park Nurseries' so it makes sense that a racist brain-dead retard with an IQ of around 68 should visit both places and write the only word he knows.

This time it's not all in upper-case. There's always progress, even for wankers who use thick tar to paint their favourite and only word.

Can you see what we had to deal with just to get in here? It was the middle of summer, which exacerbates the dilemma.

If you placed this lovely shrub in the middle of a green, would it make people smile and brighten their day?

It was quite intentional that I included the male member in this image. Without it, it would not be considered abandoned.

What you see above is not Auntie Matilda's washing line and clothing, but I am guessing something to protect the delicate flowers from the harshness of the sun.

I agree that we are controlled by mass media. This was obviously not written by NiggerMan, far too much for his pea-brained bonce. Could the matrix also be real? It's genuine food for thought.

The Mega Slime was gone, just a shitty box remained, some colour to all the drab green around here.

Some explorers might have a go at climbing that, me.., fuck no. I have large vertigo issues.

What was inside? That could have been a goldmine, but I was not going to get pricked to death in my conquest to have a look.

@anidiotexplorers was underwhelmed with 'Sandall Park Nurseries', as was I. Garden Centres, or nurseries, are usually quite shit, but this was probably the worst yet.

No, a local giant has not dropped his pants and deposited a large turd, though that's a thoroughly plausible story. It's possibly a tiny compost heap, and at least some evidence that flowers were once grown here?

In the year 2000, things were oh, so cheap compared to today's rip-off prices.

The blurry plant in the foreground is a nettle, native to England, prickly with a tendency to sting and a bloody pest. We had to battle with them once again as we retreated from the old nursery, backtracking over lots of crushed examples.

It's almost always easier to leave than to enter.

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