We had no intention of a visit to the 'Makerfield Catering Company’. Next door was our destination, a pub that I can’t even recall the name of.
The front looked very sealed, and after navigating around some poorly placed herras fencing and eyeing up the back we figured it was a no-go. This pub appeared to have no back door, no yard, and a huge garage attached to it with no doors.
It did the job, stopped us dead, and got at least my head turning to the hideous abomination of a building next door.
Both @anidiotexplores and @lpff had conceded defeat at the pub and were drifting off toward the car in search of more pleasurable views.
Someone had made an attempt on keeping anyone out that was for sure. Badly placed boards stuck on with sellotape and glue appeared at numerous spots, but one hole was enough to shuffle through.
I called to the others who reluctantly both navigated the herras fencing for a third time, making a lot of noise and attracting the eyes of several busybodies across the road.
It didn’t matter; we were all out of sight, at the back with one sole vandalised car giving us some dirty looks which we duly ignored.
‘Makerfield Catering Company’ was scraping the bottom of the barrel. If the supporting scaffolding was not erected, it might blow over with a strong gust of wind.
With enough excitement to give us all instant micro-penises and walnut sacks, we climbed through the hole brushing past the copious sticky tape, and entered what was once the 'Makerfield Catering Company’.
The lock on the door was doing nothing and I noted with some expectation that the inside had not been renovated. Maybe there could be a little something inside this collapsing wreck?
Walking toward the front part of the house, I noticed immediately the lavish wallpaper designed to hypnotise and send the weak-minded into a state of trance and averted my eyes quickly.
Could we all purchase some upside-down 'Xmas Dinner Disco Tickets?' Perhaps later, after we had checked out the rest of the treasure inside enquiries could be made.
The Barbie Annual told me this was more than just a business, but to house a family it would be a small living space.
Considering ‘downstairs’ looked like a building site, we were surprised by the stability of the stairs heading upward that even contained frayed carpet from a bygone age.
Some of the upper rooms were what you could call... 'a little inaccessible' with plenty of fresh air emanating from under the window sill.
This upper back room was faring no better, down to beams with nails sticking up that tend to penetrate your shoes and make your feet bleed. There was no going over there to sit by the blazing fireside.
The VAT demand is huge and 22 years old. I often wonder if the tax collectors personally visit, do a visual scan of the property and simply say, 'fuck it'. The VAT man could always buy a ‘Xmas Dinner Disco Ticket’ and hope the owner turns up.
One upper room contained a decent amount of kids' discarded items, well... maybe not the South Park VHS tape.
Against my better judgement considering the stability of the 'other' upper rooms I tentatively edged in here to have a closer look.
Picking up the 'Hot Wheels SpeedCity' box I was dismayed when all the pieces fell out randomly on the floor. I had to stabilise myself with the other hand or risk a fingernail-bending fall.
'Bart' guarded the entrance to the final upper room. There was no getting past this dude and looking over his shoulder it seemed a little pointless in challenging him.
We headed back downstairs as I wanted to see for sure what the room with all the goodies was like from below.
In retrospect, it was probably a good idea not to go too deep into there. Walking the beams could have been doable but as the room was filled with all kinds of crap, one does not know where one is walking.
We exited ‘Makerfield Catering Company', back-tracked through the maze of herras fencing once again making a lot of noise, ignored the usual suspicious looks, hands on hips frowns, and made our way to the next explore.
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