We attempted to explore an abandoned Muller factory, but things didn’t go to plan… 😬
Not long after arriving on site, we realised security was on patrol with a dog. While trying to stay hidden, we ended up hiding under a loading bay behind cardboard as the guard searched the area.
At one point we heard the shout: “Security officer with a dog, come out now!” Brummy actually managed to get inside the factory briefly, but with security actively searching the site we had no choice but to make a quick escape before things escalated.
This one turned into more of a stealth mission than an explore… As always with urban exploring: 📸 Take nothing but photos 👣 Leave nothing but footprints #DeeExplores #UrbanExploration #Urbex #AbandonedPlaces #ExploringTheUnknown
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We set out to explore the abandoned Worcester County Hall, but not every explore goes to plan.
After checking the site and searching for a safe, legal way in, it quickly became clear there was no access to the building. Rather than force entry, we documented the exterior, the atmosphere, and the reality of urban exploring — because sometimes the story is about knowing when to walk away.
Just when we thought the explore was over, we were approached by security at the end of the visit, bringing the mission to an unexpected close.
Urban exploring isn’t always about what you get inside — it’s about the experience, the lessons, and respecting the locations we visit.
📍 Abandoned Worcester County Hall
📸 Take nothing but photos, leave nothing but footprints
We were told this Oxford college had been abandoned… but the moment we stepped inside, something felt very wrong.
What should have been an empty, forgotten building turned into one of our most intense explorations yet — security was still inside, lights were on, and every sound echoed through the corridors. This place may have been left to decay, but it definitely wasn’t empty.
From hidden staircases to decaying lecture halls, this abandoned Oxford college holds secrets it clearly wasn’t ready to give up. One wrong move and this explore could have ended very differently.
⚠️ This video is filmed for historical and documentary purposes only.
📸 Take nothing but photos, leave nothing but footprints.
If you enjoy real urban exploration, abandoned places, and high-risk explores — make sure to like, comment, and subscribe for more.
We step through the grounds of a once-prestigious country estate — a place where silence now hangs heavier than luxury ever did. Long driveways curve through overgrown parkland, hinting at a past shaped by wealth, power, and privilege. Every footstep feels measured, as if the building itself is watching… remembering.
Inside, time has stalled. Grand rooms that once hosted lavish gatherings now sit frozen, their elegance fading but not forgotten. Peeling paint, dust-covered furniture, and abandoned corridors tell a quieter story than any guestbook ever could. The contrast is striking — opulence versus decay, refinement versus neglect.
Natural light spills through tall windows, illuminating details easily missed: intricate plasterwork, sweeping staircases, and the bones of a place built to impress. You can almost imagine the echoes of conversation, the clink of glasses, the soft rhythm of life that once filled these halls.
As we explore deeper, the atmosphere changes. Corridors narrow. Service areas appear. The behind-the-scenes reality of running such a vast estate is revealed. This wasn’t just a place to stay — it was a machine, powered by staff, tradition, and routine.
Outside once more, the grounds stretch endlessly, reclaiming what was once carefully controlled. Nature is slowly undoing centuries of human ambition, reminding us that no matter how grand a place may be, nothing is permanent.
This exploration isn’t about vandalism or thrill-seeking — it’s about preservation through documentation. Capturing a moment in time before it disappears forever.
The History
To understand how this estate came to exist, we need to go back centuries.
Local records identify a house on this site as early as the Domesday survey in the late 11th century. In 1402, the property passed into the hands of the Sherard family, who would remain here for nearly five hundred years.
Significant architectural development began in the early 1500s under Thomas Sherard. In 1633, a major fire led to extensive rebuilding of what later became known as the Old Wing.
Throughout the 17th and 18th centuries, the estate continued to evolve:
Around 1670, a major wing was constructed for Bennet Sherard, later Baron Sherard
In the late 1700s, the surrounding parkland was redesigned by Lancelot “Capability” Brown, shaping the rolling landscape seen today
In 1719, the family was elevated to the Earls of Harborough — a title that lasted until 1859.
After the earldom ended, the estate was sold in 1885. Two years later, it was purchased by John Gretton, who transformed the house once again, expanding it into the grand late-Victorian country residence expected of the era.
By the mid-20th century, the estate entered a very different chapter. Parts of the grounds were opened to the public, featuring a miniature railway and even a lion reserve — attractions that drew visitors throughout the 1960s and 1970s. The miniature steam railway survives today as a rare heritage feature.
A pivotal change came in 1988 when the house was purchased by an American restaurateur and hotelier, who converted it into a country house hotel. Interiors were restored, and the estate entered a new era of luxury hospitality.
During the 1990s and early 2000s, development continued:
A golf course and expanded country sports
New spa and wellness facilities integrated into historic buildings
In August 2022, ownership changed again, with plans to expand luxury and wellbeing offerings. However, financial difficulties followed, leading to the cessation of trading in October 2024 and the liquidation of the operating company.
Today, the future of the estate remains uncertain — but the historic mansion and surrounding parkland stand as enduring reminders of centuries of ambition, wealth, and change.
Exploring the abandoned Selly Oak Hospital (2015/2016) before demolition. Thanks to Jellyfish for the photos below!
Back in 2015/2016, myself, Jellyfish, and Gibo went on a few visits to the abandoned Selly Oak Hospital not long after it moved to the new Queen Elizabeth Hospital. The first couple of times we tried to explore this place, we were met with security almost immediately.
Eventually, we managed to sneak past the security and the security devices on site and made our way into the disused buildings. Not much was left behind by the time we managed to get inside to explore, but what was left behind was crazy!
The freakiest part of the explore was when we managed to gain access to the morgue. The utensils and stainless steel bed were still there, and the morgue slab had a Ouija board left on top. That’s when the explore really started getting freaky.
Here’s some history on the now-demolished Selly Oak Hospital.
Origins — From Workhouse to Infirmary The site originally housed the King’s Norton Union Workhouse, built under the Poor Law Amendment Act 1834 to care for the very poor. Designed by Edward Holmes, it opened around 1870/1872 and could house a few hundred inmates.
In 1897, a purpose-built workhouse infirmary was added (designed by Daniel Arkell), with around 300 beds. It was one of the early infirmaries lit entirely by electric light — unusual at the time.
Transition to Hospital By 1902–1908, the complex expanded with a new entrance and a large nurses’ home called Woodlands.
In 1911, the workhouse and infirmary were renamed Selly Oak Hospital as King’s Norton became part of Birmingham and the Poor Law system was reorganised.
Over the inter-war years, the hospital modernised: operating theatres, labs, wards, and services expanded, reflecting the shift from a Poor Law institution to a general hospital.
NHS Era and Growth When the National Health Service was founded in 1948, Selly Oak Hospital and its associated buildings (formerly the workhouse and infirmary) joined the NHS and became a general hospital under Birmingham City Council.
In later decades, it became part of University Hospitals Birmingham NHS Foundation Trust (from 1997) and was linked administratively with the nearby Queen Elizabeth Hospital.
Special Roles and Recognition From 2001, the hospital was home to the Royal Centre for Defence Medicine, providing specialist care and rehabilitation for military personnel injured in operations in Iraq and Afghanistan.
The hospital also developed strong reputations for trauma and burns care and offered numerous general and specialist services to the West Midlands.
Closure and Aftermath With the opening of the new Queen Elizabeth Hospital Birmingham starting in 2010, services progressively transferred from Selly Oak.
The hospital formally closed in late 2011/2012, ending its healthcare role after more than a century as a medical institution.
In 2015, the Trust sold the site for redevelopment. Plans were made for around 650 homes, and many of the old buildings have since been demolished or repurposed.
In this urban exploration, we explore the remains of Liberty Pressings — from rusting machinery and empty production halls to hidden details most people never get to see. This explore was carried out respectfully and responsibly. 📍 Location: Coventry, West Midlands
🏭 Site: Liberty Pressings (Abandoned)
⚠️ Disclaimer: This video is for documentary and educational purposes only. No damage, theft, or forced entry took place. Take nothing but photos, leave nothing but footprints. If you enjoy UK urbex, abandoned places, and industrial history, don’t forget to like, comment, and subscribe to support the channel.
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This explore was one of the best hospitals we have come across. From hospital records left behind dating back to the mid-1900s, to old X-ray machines, this place genuinely looked like a zombie apocalypse had happened.
Huge thanks to MOD Dan 2 for the photos — without them, a few short videos! 😄
This explore started with no messing about; we just sent it. There was still an active section of the hospital on site, so we began by dodging cameras and checking windows and doors on the lower floors before climbing up to the roof to find our way in.
Once we dropped in, this explore was like no other hospital we had ever done. It was a true time-capsule hospital, with mid-1900s paper patient records simply left behind. In one room, there was an old, decaying X-ray machine still lying there.
As we continued exploring, we didn’t get the chance to reach the upper levels, as our explore was cut short by the police arriving with dogs to find us.
Here’s some history on the Hospital –
This hospital has a long history dating back to the mid-19th century, originally established to serve a growing industrial town and its surrounding rural communities. Built during a time when healthcare was rapidly evolving in Britain, the site expanded steadily to meet increasing demand, particularly during periods of war, epidemics, and population growth.
Throughout the late 1800s and early 1900s, the hospital became a key medical centre, offering treatments that were considered advanced for their time. New wards, operating theatres, and specialist departments were added over the decades, reflecting changes in medical practice and technology. During both World Wars, the site played an important role in treating injured service personnel and civilians alike.
By the mid-20th century, the hospital was fully integrated into the newly formed National Health Service, continuing to provide care for generations of local families. However, as healthcare needs changed and newer facilities were built elsewhere, parts of the site became outdated. Gradual downsizing followed, with sections closing and services being relocated.
Eventually, the hospital fell silent, leaving behind corridors frozen in time. Paper records, medical equipment, and forgotten rooms now tell the story of decades of care, innovation, and human experience — a true time capsule of Britain’s medical past.
Hope you enjoy these images and the documentation of this hospital. Catch you all on the next explore.
Join us as we step inside Nottingham’s massive abandoned Guild Hall complex, including the old police station, courtrooms and fire station! What should’ve been a quiet explore quickly turned into one of the craziest nights we’ve ever had…
Inside, we unexpectedly bumped into around 20 other explorers wandering the corridors, police cells and fire station bays. The atmosphere was unreal — echoing footsteps, voices through empty hallways, and that eerie feeling.
Just as we were making our way out, things got even more intense when we ran into security, turning this explore into a heart-pounding rush to the exit.
If you love UK urban exploring, forgotten history, or adrenaline-filled moments, you’re going to enjoy this one! ➡️ Don’t forget to LIKE, COMMENT & SUBSCRIBE to join us on more explores! 📸 “Take nothing but photos, leave nothing but footprints.”
We went sneaking and creeping through the abandoned Square Shopping Centre in Birmingham, exploring hidden corners and forgotten spots. Things got intense when security caught us—but that didn’t stop us from sneaking back in for more!
About the Square Shopping Centre: Once a busy hub in the heart of Birmingham, the Square Shopping Centre is now abandoned, giving urban explorers the chance to discover hidden spaces, forgotten details, and the quiet remnants of its past.
Like, comment, and subscribe for more urban exploration adventures! #UrbanExploration #Urbex #AbandonedPlaces #Birmingham #SneakingAdventure #TheSquare
Join us on a rare urban-exploration journey into the haunting corridors of the former HMP Reading – a historic Victorian prison in the heart of Reading, Berkshire. Built in 1844 on the site of the old county gaol and partly over the remains of Reading Abbey, this imposing red-brick structure was one of the earliest examples of the “separate system” of prison design, with a hub-and-spoke layout by architects Sir George Gilbert Scott and William Bonython Moffatt.
Over the decades, HMP Reading witnessed public executions in its forecourt (the first in 1845 before a crowd of 10,000), internment of Irish rebels after the 1916 Easter Rising, internment of foreign nationals in the world wars, use as a borstal for young offenders, and finally a remand centre and Young Offenders Institution until its closure in December 2013.
On this two-stage exploration, we’ll wander through the shadowy wings, inspect the peeling cell walls, trace the footsteps of literary legend Oscar Wilde (who penned The Ballad of Reading Gaol during his 18-month sentence here), and reflect on the layers of heritage — from abbey infirmary to gaol to derelict ruin.
Expect to document the architecture, the deterioration, and the stories that echo off the cold stones — twice in one day, to see how the light changes, how the atmosphere shifts, and to capture both surface-and-shadow. Whether you’re a history buff, an urban explorer, or simply someone drawn to abandoned places, this visit promises a deep dive into one of Britain’s most evocative former prison sites.
⚠️ Important Note: This exploration is undertaken as part of the ‘Take nothing but photos, leave nothing but footprints’ ethos. Access should be legal, safe and respectful of the heritage building’s status (the prison is Grade II listed).
