St John's School House had not been on the agenda. It was another of those drive by dodgy buildings that we spotted en route while looking for something more interesting.
I did find a few musings about this school from former students who said mostly good things, some from the early 1960's. Who says old people can't use the internet?
While some schools could have been actually decent in within this era, maybe I have listened to 'The Wall' a little too much, and that it has clouded my mind somewhat about this period of school time.
As far back as 2017, permission had been granted to demolish St John's School and yet here it is, still a blight on the local neighbourhood.
The thought of this old looking building situated next to an old church being a Painter and Decorating Training centre is absurd. It always resembled a school to me, the architecture style betraying its former origins.
We slipped down a side road not really relishing climbing the old but sturdy looking fencing that was situated next to a main road in full view of many passing cars.
St John's looked as wrecked as they come but we still wanted a glimpse inside at the devastation of what remained.
Some old fencing was trying to deter us but frankly blowing it over would likely collapse the entire lot, and it wasn't long before we spotted a break and slipped through.
Inside was extremely overgrown, and making our way to the main building was akin to tunneling through waves of thick green shit... every which way we turned.
The blackened roof told me it had been subjected to fire, and this was confirmed after a little digging on the internet.
Some areas were strictly off limits and to be honest, why the fuck would you want to go over there?
This scene was a little surreal and out of place. Most everything was burnt or gone besides the canopy, table and chair. All that was needed was a living zombie to tell us to sign the register, and give us a toothy grin and smile.
It reminded me of a polling station check in station. Old schools are often used for such purposes.
The archway could have housed a door once. What I was seeing was so far gone, the exterior and former interior were indistinguishable.
A few aids were present at strategic places, ones we took full advantage of. For once the chair did not crumple under my weight. Maybe I'm not such a fat bastard after all?
The former pupils would have been forced to go to church at regular times, both singing hymns and praying. I can speak from personal experience of my childhood about this.
As a non practicing atheist I find these practices disturbing. Fortunately the UK seems to be mostly ignoring religion, especially when it comes to the younger generation.
This gap was a little narrow to squeeze through; fortunately there were alternative routes to access all features of this derelict shit-tip.
Japanese Knotweed is not dangerous to us, but can structurally break up buildings due to its aggressive growth. I was surprised to find that properties with these rampant triffids growing nearby are tough to sell unless specialists are brought in to kill it all.
Sticking a big sign for everyone to see is hardly a selling point and the warning that 'it's an offence to take cuttings is frankly bewildering'. What sadist would want some of this to plant in their own garden?
I can see St John's gradually decaying even more until the demolition boys move in.
They had better rip up all the Knotweed while they are at it, or else any new properties built here are not going to sell easily.
This was the last entry in the Stoke on Trent visit, but we would be back within a few weeks to mop up the remains. It had been a productive day, but a little on the derpy side.
We hoped our next visit might yield something a little more varied.
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'Tales of the Urban Explorer'
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