Tales of the Urban Explorer: The Jolly Angler

I have to thank @anidiotexplores' missus' for discovering 'The Jolly Angler'. Without it, the day would have collapsed into disappointment and tedium.

We had been traipsing around the city feeding off the scraps yet again and ‘The Jolly Angler’ appeared to be one of those probably not gambles.

The latest intelligence tells me it's either been demolished or is already half destroyed. Pubs rarely recover once closed, and with it being situated in a particularly dingy part of the city whose clientele I am guessing were factory workers, the days of 'The Jolly Angler' were limited.

The wall was a jump, and haul job which neither of us was especially keen on. What was on the top of that wall, likely broken glass embedded into the brickwork?

Likewise, that black gate with its slippery surface doesn't make for an easy climb. Surely there was an easier route?

Front doors rarely open but side ones occasionally forget to lock themselves. Thinking fortune had shone that day we slipped in via the Pigeon Street entrance and hoped those flying rats had not taken it upon themselves to deposit even more shit than usual.

A large boast and folly claim considering the surroundings that looked anything like the famous Irish stout.

We moved quickly into what was the bar. It looked anything but untouched with dirty glasses and piles of crap lying everywhere.

Crisp 'n Dry, Mayonnaise, and some flat coke. It was hardly going to be a great breakfast here even if we could find some pans that were not caked in month's old fat.

I see someone found an alternative route into 'The Jolly Angler'. This would mean scaling either the glass-etched wall or the slippery gate. These homeless are expert climbers if nothing else.

Speaking of which, whoever lived here was not in. @anidiotexplores left the squatter a ‘cig’ as an entrance fee for viewing the property. You must always pay your way.

The bulls do appear to do to be quite fascinated and intoxicated by the view. Is it a bloke or a butch-looking farmer chic?

I like Bailey's but it gives me ingestion. If there was only a kettle, hot water, some fresh coffee, and non-sour milk I might be tempted to have a 'Bailey's Coffee' nonetheless.

‘Love is forever’ it says. Can’t say I agree with that.

In the corner was a stack of old VHS tapes, though getting to them was challenging.

He looks feminine, and I am sure that’s not Sheila Reynolds.

'The Jolly Angler' was turning into a hoarder's pub, or maybe it had simply been ransacked.

HP Sauce on the top shelf, and some items that were getting a little closer to being coffee. If I looked harder, maybe the dream of having that Baileys would come true.

No end of foodstuffs, but little that was edible. Our live-in homeless person no doubt had first dibs some time ago.

Getting up the stairs was not easy; the bottom two steps had decided to collapse leaving a decent-sized gap. The rest of 'The Jolly Angler' looked quite intact, very strange.

Reaching almost the top I could see things were even more calamitous.

Inside the room facing the stairs were piles of clothes. Digging my fingers into those is not something I relish.

Mr. Homeless could outfit himself with a brand new wardrobe no doubt, but musty clothes don't give me a stiffy.

This is not the address of 'The Jolly Angler' and yet Mr. Reynolds lives there. Why not shack up with Sheila, or would that be tempting incest?

It’s amazing the amount of detail you can retrieve from a correctly focused filthy newspaper photograph.

The bigger bedroom I’m assuming belongs to Sheila. This was just as ransacked as the last one.

She was a gamer?

Well, that says it all; it was Sheila’s room unless it’s that poofy-looking lad who wears these knickers which contain…, blood, rust, or erm.., something else.

Is it Sheila celebrating her 50th, I am guessing so.

So here we go again, try not to step on 'Neil' and down the stairs that are crammed with junk and with collapsible bottoms.

I am surprised more had not been taken from ‘The Jolly Angler’. There did appear to be items of value.

Junk mail from the Inland Revenue tends to be thrown aside.

That's very practical of you Sheila, to take out some life insurance in case you keel over.

The underside of the stairs look remarkably sturdy considering the view from the other side.

It's little wonder this 'valued item' is still sealed. Where it was purchased from emphasizes my point.

If people wouldn’t throw everything about, then we explorers could explore every little nook and cranny.

I am a United supporter, as is @anidiotexplores so this photograph did very little for me.

Everything was just about sitting on the edge. A powerful breath of lung air and the lot would collapse.

We did check the cellar. It was crammed with the usual beer equipment, old barrels, and no tied-up kidnapped victims.

'The Last of Us' on the PS3; in a shit-covered case. I did not check to see if the Blu-Ray was present.

FOOTNOTE: Another explorer tried ‘The Jolly Angler’ shortly after our visit. Inside he found two angry blokes who chased him out of the property, screaming obscenities and pursued him through the streets of the city.

Despite the possibility of this 'report’ being on the hyperbolic side, we feel these ‘blokes’ are not the owners but supercharged squatters who could have drunk that bottle of ‘Crisp ‘n Dry’ neat.

If any bricks are remaining at the once ‘The Jolly Angler’ then visiting may result in injury and lost limbs.

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