Tales of the Urban Explorer: Mr Stein's Place
“Is that worth a stop?”, I said to @anidiotexplores. We were now in deepest Wales, a country slightly hostile to the English race so had to tread warily.
An old house that looked like it might fall over if we blew too hard was passing us by quickly. It was time to screech the brakes on, reverse a little and send my comrade in for a pre-inspection.
Mr. Stein's Place had not been on our radar that day, we were more interested in 'The Brass House' and 'Granddad's House'.
These are both 5 star rated time capsules that were now being visited by every man and his dog and are about to be listed in Trip Advisor’s ‘Best Capsules in North Wales for the Everyday Explorer’.
Dilapidated or not, this was worth a look if we could bypass the neighbours whose house was physically attached by means of the left-side wall.
A thumbs-up from @anidiotexplores told me there was something worth looking at. Now it was a question of catching him up, which is nigh impossible.
Bypassing the fencing, I edged down the side, found an outhouse full of junk, and then next door’s garden.
Oh shit.., I silently backpedalled and wondered where the fuck @anidiotexplores had disappeared to.
Looking up, I saw it and this was going to need some of the old heave-ho to get in. It doesn’t look so hard but the handy stepping device was attached to the ground in that place for good reason and the window at an angle.
That’s great if you are young and supple but a struggle for me.
I figured my comrade was already inside, not having tea and biscuits with the neighbour so leaped up and entered through what was a window.
It wasn’t that bad and I shortly found myself in a classic derp of the finest quality.
There's a number on the old bed. I wonder if I could complain about the quality and get a refund if I called?
The bog is almost serviceable. We as explorers are always in need of a piss; may as well use the provided amenities. Someone once took a shit and left their coffee pot. One should always wash the dishes.. tut tut.
The insides of old cupboards often attract leftover wallpaper. I have always wondered why that is.
Is it an old fridge? Opening closed ones can be deadly and have been known to incapacitate foolish explorers when opened with toxic fumes. If they are already open, then it's quite safe to go closer.
Old Ski Yoghurt pots from the early '80s. I stacked these on the Kwiksave shelves occasionally during my hellish tenure there.
Not content with a single fridge, Mr. Stein had another.
I took TWO photographs of this dratted printer and both were a little blurred. It's an old dot matrix from a company I have never heard of.
Mr. Stein was a ham radio enthusiast. That is so 80's.
We are not the first explorers to delve into the property. Some of them like to leave their mark and come for other things.
Downstairs was a little bleak and I was pleasantly surprised to see some very sturdy stairs.
The bedroom, or did he just live in this one room? Compared to the rest of the house most of the clutter was confined to this one room.
It looks like it's from the 1980s but is clearly stamped 1996. He was into his radios and a pensioner even then.
By the looks of the exterior and the foliage penetrating the house, Mr. Stein must have been the last owner.
Another fabulous shot of my foot distracts from the BASIC listing I see. Not a chance this is the 90's, but early 80's. I don't recognise the style of BASIC this is written in. It's not your regular BBC Micro, Commodore 64, or Sinclair Spectrum.
Having a bath in this room would bring all your senses to life within a short period.
Whatever that is or was, it contains a couple of light bulbs.
Not all of Mr. Stein's house contained great floors as you can see.
Looking from the other angle, this section is a little off-limits.
'LOOTAD.DOC'. It's the old DOS 8.3 format for file names. Was he running some kind of advertisement?
Plenty of old clothes if you are desperate enough. Bung them in the washer and you can go vintage.
For an old bloke, he was quite IT literate. The Accumulator and the X and Y registers are a fallback to the old 6502 8-bit processors and hail back to my early learning.
One room on the top floor was a pain in the arse to access. Lots of clutter was guarding it and so I made a special effort to see what was inside.
It was loaded with more old junk and a fancy wardrobe with names for your night-time clobber.
I did look up Paul Stein and the village where he lived to try and locate him without any success.
He could have passed from this world or lives in an OAP home somewhere. What's left of his memories now remain in this old house.
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'Tales of the Urban Explorer'
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