Tales of the Urban Explorer: Ormskirk & District Hospital

Some buildings can’t make their minds up what they are actually are. Take ‘Ormskirk & District Hospital', or I assumed that's what it was.

People I can understand, they could suffer from identity crisis but buildings? We have to assume they have minds of their own and add stickers to themselves at times.

From the exterior, it appears to be a college, and yet the innards told me a different story. I could have labelled this one or the other, and on a different day it would have been titled, 'The College of Mass Pigeon Shit'.

Ormskirk, East Lancashire, is a market town renown for little besides it’s flat lands, potato crops and a large University that @dismayedworld happens to be attending for her degree. She might just read this, as it’s local to her.

We had three targets, and the first two had gone bust already. One was totally sealed, with boards that were mature and had not been moved in years. If our tip had been in there, then they are liars. Not a chance.

The second one boasted lighting and security cameras, which were obviously live. I don't do non-abandoned buildings, that not my forte.

There’s a line which I wont cross, though other ‘explorers’ will happily prize open doors. and windows to get some 'exclusive' on Facebook which garners them many likes as well as many, 'where's that?' comments.

…'big fucking deal; I prefer to have some HIVE, and if my real life friends and other Facebook explorers don't know about my exploits, I don't give a crap'…

We approached the name-confused building and spotted a couple of shifty blokes trampling through the grounds, probably with the intent of getting inside.

Today seemed like one of those days where we were going to meet lots of other explorers, and that’s what they were, no surprises!

After a short conversation we discovered they are from the 'South'. Down there, the pickings are slimmer than the north.

We searched hard and found no way in. This was getting annoying but after some scouting perseverance, we found the hidden evasive access point behind a dense bush, leaving those other blokes to keep searching.

One of them was little chunky, so good fucking luck getting through that gap which is likely to tear into your back if you're not on the skinny side. It was quite awkward but I managed it, this time without going head first for once.

Once inside, we heard the other dudes on our tail. They did mange to get in and promptly darted for the tile room which appeared to be the highlight (was there a highlight in here?).

If there's one railing to hold, then consider yourself fortunate. Using it as a stabiliser is still a terrible idea; why do you think the other one vanished?

Nazi's. They turn up everywhere, and more so in abandoned hospitals.

The corridor was bright and almost serviceable, with a few pieces of debris scattered about.

If those lights worked they would emit a dazzling aura. Maybe they operated in this room, it was nice and large though I associate operating theatres with lower floor rooms for some reason.

Doors with 'Out of Order' need to be opened. Many of the rooms were boring and samey, which is often the case in Hospitals.

These are priced at over £300. May as well leave this crap behind eh?

The ST316 device was placed inside some other 'junk' left behind. Like photocopiers they couldn't be arsed to take them away when they left.

That message is a little confusing. Perhaps if you worked here it may make more sense?

Some parts of ‘Ormskirk & District Hospital’ were in worse condition than others. The pigeons had moved in and started profusely shitting in this area.

Dark creepy corridors are a thing of the past. I became desensitised long ago.

The ‘Southerners’ had erected tri-pods and all manner of fancy equipment in the ‘tile room’. It was another rotting room, with some fancy tiles, nothing special lads.

That ‘Margaret Beavan’ must have been very influential once. We had already infiltrated her other hospital two years beforehand, and threatened with the cops by a local on exiting.

The tiles were nicely crafted and from an age where drawing could have been done by hand, and not mass produced.

There's little doubt that was once a children's ward, and by now it was dawning on me that the 'College' sign on the exterior of the building could only have meant, 'Nursing College’.

We left the other blokes to whatever they wanted to do, be it that strange paranormal weird stuff that some are turned on by.

I was expecting some more explorers to drop by after our unexpected meetup at Clarence High School. Over the coffee and bacon and eggs, a little pin trading was done an hour beforehand, though we seemed to benefit little from it and received bugger all.

Yet another very non-creepy corridor took us back to the access point.

If I could only bend and stretch a little more then sights such as these would be invigorating, instead of groan emitting. I could say I am becoming more flexible by the day, but fatter would be closer to the truth. Getting out was a lot easier than getting in.

An interesting diversion, that yielded little. It was off to the ‘House of Weird Warnings’ next. There is no rest, not until it gets dark.

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