Watching exploring YouTube videos are good for one thing. Checking how people got in. Once I find it, they get switched off.
It wasn't like him to stop and ponder. We had looked around the exterior, climbed up a huge exterior walkway only to find the topmost door locked, and were now deliberating over a purple dustbin container with no top.
It was a dodgy climb and the local Karens would see us for sure. This was our second attempt at "The American House", the first being thwarted by busybodies even before we entered the grounds.
...'a chair, the outside of the purple bin, all useful aids... but jumping on to the collapsing guttering.., maybe there was an easier way?'...
The grounds were large as was the house which I had labelled "The American House" due to its exterior characteristics.
Neither of us was keen on the extra wobbly bin and decided to look a little harder. It is so easy to miss things if you are not diligent and our tenacity was rewarded minutes later as we found an decent sized hole to climb through.
“Well that was easy, and it looks like someone might be living here”
Too easy, big holes smashed open with sledgehammers could mean unwanted inhabitants. It was a nice day and they would likely be begging on the streets of Liverpool to fund their crack habit.
I could see immediately, “The American House” would have been something once. Long corridors with main rooms shooting off as well as evidence of the homeless, probably with terrible back problems judging by the angled mattress positioning.
I would think there are other things to worry about besides Head Lice if you are squatting down in this place?
More bars at the window, and what’s that silver snake in the corner? Is every abandoned property in this city converted into a grow?
I had a feeling that there had been an attempt to renovate "The American House". There were a few loose doors, windows, and building materials hanging around but nobody had made a start.
Plenty of old furniture was covered in bits of rubble, but it was short of personal items to rummage through.
This was the extension and just look at that rack of arched windows. It would have been lovely once with just a touch of the 'Amityville House' without the malicious evil spirit.
I did think about pocketing it for the duration of this exploration in case some mindless crack-head was hiding behind the copious furniture ready to slice me up.
The appliances or what was left of them looked industrial. This house was large for a regular family. It could have been used as a business.
The stairs were looking solid so far, we started upward.
Why would you stash a wheelbarrow inside your house, was I missing something?
I loved the dark wood solid doors and the stairs even had banisters. Holding on to them for stability while ascending is rarely a good move.
That's two washing machines so far. It could be that the family who lived here had some sort of BO problem.
The rooms were getting increasingly messier the further up we headed.
It was quite maze-like in “The American House” with more than one set of stairs.
Grows are generally erected on the top floor so that the authorities can use heat-sensing equipment to easily spot them. That is just the way it is, and why they get busted so quickly.
They put so much capital into these illegal ventures that it must be worth it if they can survive for just a while before being busted.
It was looking increasingly more derelict now with large holes in the roof and the sun was starting to stream through the gaps.
Sheeting and pots, more tools of the trade.. as well as many power outlets and the odd extension cable.
I think the idea is to not pay for the electricity, or abandon the grow when the electric company is about to cut you off for not paying the enormous energy bill that has been acquired.
The stairs to the top floor were a little tricky being covered in shale but quite manageable.
A little ducking was needed to bypass another component of the grow and the final destination.
The top floor was completely fucked with zero roof, bright sunlight, and badly scorched beams in places.
The grow venture had placed many more power outlets up here, which looked more scorched than the previous bank. Something had gone wrong, there had been a huge fire and that was the end of the poor cannabis plants (and the house).
Avoiding the large holes in the floor I descended safely past the black tarpaulin sheet swaying around in the gentle breeze.
It may cost a little to bring back the original features of “The American House” to the upper floors.
We left the grow, turned squatter house in search of our next target.
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