“Forget the rest, try the best”, said the sign. I could barely contain myself after spotting ‘Burnley Building Supplies’ who’s unimaginative ex-business resides in the northern, working-class industrial town of Burnley.
I stepped a little closer peering at the boasts of 'Burnley Building Supplies', and what it presented to prospective clients.
“Call B.B.S. and we’ll do the rest”. I take it they are not referring to their Bulletin Board System, now that would be so nineties.
The claims continued as I walked around the perimeter. I could imagine a red carpet rolling out with unimagined customer service once I figured out how to get inside.
On the surface, it wasn't looking promising with floor-level concreted windows and gaping holes a good 12 feet from the ground. I was alone for this one and would be taking fewer chances than usual.
The gate was climbable, but lazy-arse me would try and find any easier way.
Once on the grounds, it looked relativity straightforward.
The great thing about these companies is they always run out of money, add some severe fencing with spikes, followed by a 2-foot wall you can jump over with ease.
It’s then a case of walking back after doing a near u-turn.
The building on the left with the open door was a snooze-fest; one large open area full of cow shit or something of that nature. Bollocks to that, I quickly turned around and entered the 'other' door.
The illusions of being treated like Prince Charles dissipated on arrival; this was another shit-hole, with copious plastic bags, stinking damp clothes, and part of a vacuum cleaner.
An 'AllPay' card is a pre-paid Mastercard. Miss Robertson seems to have lost it. The HM Courts brand is still confusing me unless it's for jury members during their breaks.
I’m eating my lunch while writing this up, it’s not the best of ideas.
The front counter for ‘Burnley Building Supplies’ I am guessing. Little supplies were in evidence.
I looked around for any traces of what was a ‘parts company’ and found a little here and there.
Once, premium planks of wood and other exciting products were stacked here waiting patiently for customers to buy them, not a squashed bottle of cheap used Cola.
If you read the sign backwards it indicates what was for sale at the former, ‘Burnley Building Supplies’.
No used £20 notes nailed to the board where it says, 'Unpaid Cash'. I could try again tomorrow?
Businesses must change with the times and this is where the cash goes now, and the credit on Miss Robertson's card?
After witnessing the entrance room, I had to push further and climbed these surprisingly sturdy stairs.
The scenery changed almost immediately. The same piles of shit stood around, but now of the ‘charred’ variety.
I spotted signs of the homeless, maybe extra brainless ones in this case. Why would you bed down on the deck with you have a nice soft slightly scorched filthy mattress to lie on?
Move all that shit away and drift off dreaming about your next fix of hard drugs..., wonderful!
The junkies are the homeless ones I guess.
You can't store your used cheese-infested jockstraps in the built-in drawers anymore, but it's perfectly serviceable.
The deeper I dug, the worse the surroundings. The floor was also getting quite dodgy, and being alone I was aware that falling through ‘that’ without support was a bad idea.
It was hot here… once.
Was the fire a factor in the demise of 'Burnley Building Supplies'? It's generally a good enough reason.
I did stop and consider seriously going up there. It looked ready to collapse. Should I or not?
Of course, I did, though I was cringing at every step. The stairs looked seriously brittle.
I got my reward with this lovely shot. If you look hard enough, you can always find something that looks great.
The adjoining room was not quite so photogenic. I was on the top step and not wanting to go any further.
This top-floor room fared better, but I was not tempted for a minute to saunter over to the window and moon at any passing grannies.
I can't emphasize the amount of care you need to take on top-floor wrecks. They are deadly death zones.
I tried not to hold the frazzled banister when descending. Doing so would result in a dirty blackened hand.
Not the most exciting of explores and despite having a trawl on the internet, I was unable to find a report about the torching of ‘Burnley Building Supplies’.
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