st. crispin | red fences and red tape
02|01|04

We followed the buildings, keeping close to the peripheral path. Dog walkers viewed us with suspicion, a lone car slowly followed us along a service road until being trapped by new ditches and building materials.

The shell of the Main Hall appeared, jutting out from the adjoining three storey wards, itís wrecked and burnt eves open to the elements, like the picked bones of a consumed animal. It looked like our virgin urban exploration site had already been hit by the local arsonists.