Whitchurch is particularly interesting from an UE perspective, I think, because it hasn't really been abandoned yet. Its still in its infancy of disuse.
I don't really know what the future holds for it either.
Undoubtedly it could go several different trajectories over the next decade.
Stringent security and little damage/decay,
or systematic looting and vandalism...
Redevelopment into flats whilst retaining some listed features,
or demolition altogether...
Either way, when the bulk of the classic asylums were only a couple of years into their disuse, urban exploring hadn't formed an online community or reached the popularity it has now.
For instance, I'm skeptical a photo exists of Cane Hill in 1993 (but if it does, I'd love to see)?
Whitchurch will surely be visited a lot by the new generation, but it's almost too big of a site to take in all in one go.
Whether the sum of its parts seems like epic or not, there is a wealth of discrete curiosities hidden away in cubby holes around Whitchurch; paperwork, medical equipment, historical relics and so forth, that will I'm sure be slowly documented piece by piece as time goes by.
In this report I wanted to show some of the smaller features and objects I came across on several, that I haven't seen photographed in other reports thus far (as well as a sort of 2018 status update for the bigger features that are hard to miss).
And obviously, I will have missed many that others didn't...
But such a place like this needs several needle-threaders to sew its full tapestry together, just as the OG explorers did for the bygone asylums.
Whitchurch isn't quite the same kettle of fish as Cane or High Royds etc, because it didn't finish its life;
1. In the same era of healthcare practice,
2. Carrying the title of 'asylum'.
It's been very remodeled a lot over the years to meet the needs of 21st century healthcare, albeit in an elderly kind of fashion. But it's a sort of... I don't quite know...
Maybe, serene middle ground, between what we would call the barbaric healthcare practices of Victorian era asylum healthcare, and the super-liberal and non-institutional era of mental health today.
A few written status updates before the photos;
If one looks at Whitchurch on Google Maps satellite, the western side of the hospital is where the older wards are, most used for consultancies (Tom correct me if I'm wrong). The far North-West corner ward is currently locked off (I believe it was the first to close down), and most of the rest of the Western wards are alarmed. I didn't mooch around here much.
The middle portion of the hospital from above is where the communal areas lie; recreation hall, canteen, kitchen, industrial infrastructure, even a clothing shop.
And on the Eastern side are the newer wards and secure units. Not much locking up done here.
The day of this particular visit was probably the snowiest I've seen Britain in many years, the untouched powder in the usually grassy courtyards on the day of visit almost came up to my knees.
The pictures are only from a point-and-shoot by the way, not a DSLR, so apologies about the grain on some of the snaps.
The first thing a visitor to this museum would hopefully appreciate is the signposting.
The way the white and blue, English and Welsh plaques are suspended ever so symmetrically put a smile on my face at least.
The recreation hall is an obvious highlight.
Pristine condition and some top-tier intricate heraldry make the show (oh, and the absolutely glorious Union Jacks too, of course, god save the queen)
Rooms on the left are the remaining setting of a public exhibition on the history of the hospital by the Whitchurch Historical Society.
The still in-tune Italian grand piano is another well-known treat (having learnt piano growing up I did have a little tinkle of Chopin's Op9 No1 on it, and it's a beaut to play).
Despite closing in 2016, a year where almost every professional in his/her field carries a personal iPad and a business Mac or something, a vintage PC like this is strangely humbling.
Below is essentially what the bulk of the Whitchurch experience looks like: miles of trademark 19th century county/city asylum corridor.
All are echoey, eerie, and immaculately clean.
Not pictured in this report in the interest of keeping the photos to 30,
but recurrent Whitchurch features I want to discuss are the flappy, almost quarantine style doors, which feel more cut out for an anthrax lab than a dated psychiatric hospital.
One can see them in most other Whitchurch reports.
They're everywhere also, and many have some quite ominous markings on them.
Any other visitors know what they were for? I'm out of ideas.
Another distinctive Whitchurch feature: circular convex mirrors.
They're everywhere.
Again, why? I can't quite work it out. @tumbles , could the boss inform an beginner asylum-seeker?
The canteen was a surprise - I didn't notice it on my previous visit.
Impressive stacking and not a speck of dirt left on the dishes, despite a somehow not mouldy half eaten tart lying on the table (wasn't me, either).
Plaques demonstrating heartfelt community values of bygone decades reward the curious...
There are countless opportunities for literature/paperwork pit stops in Whitchurch.
Here's just one of many for those fond of the legal sector.
The room below had little clues as to its past life remaining, but its decor was probably the most early-20th-century of all the dozens of rooms I dropped into.
That carpet is just splendid.
The kitchen is a good one, spread out over several big rooms.
I'm no buff for industrial scale equipment but the huge hoods were my favourite feature here.
Colour schemes of corridors subtly change whichever way one turns;
Red-white, blue-cream, etc etc....
The superintendents during Whitchurch's life were notably forward-thinking, so I've read.
I assume they generally didn't subscribe to lobotomy padded cell-style pauper lunatic asylum practices that add a chill-factor to asylums as we know them best.
Hence, there's a large amount of occupational therapy infrastructure lurking around, such as this bathing aparatus for the physically frail.
Not quite Browning Ward @ Cane Hill circa 2006...
But hospital beds are still hospital beds.
All their aesthetic glory is available with a pinch of sunlight.
Loading bays and non-patient areas are mostly now storage units for a wide variety of tat from back in day.
Clothes... There're heaps of them lying around, everywhere. Here's just one of many.
A bit sad.
They're not even gowns or scrubs or coats, they all seem to be casual wear.
Why left I wonder?
This shot seems to be the staple fixture for a Whitchurch visit.
The very aesthetic sprawling ivy doesn't seem to be growing as fast as ivy should, though...
I'm fine with that.
Reminds me of those arts-and-crafts lizards covered in multicoloured mock-jewels, you know?
Located in the older West Wards, one of the few rooms not currently alarmed or locked. Watch your step!
I didn't even move the cane here, but this scene got me.
I would say a few 'helping hands' can be counted in the entire scene and context of this image.
Again, in the Eastern Wards and secure units, no padded-cell style practice can be traced of late.
They have a much more homely feel than 70s-90s closing asylums.
This room in particular stood out.
Bike, ironing board, and a double mirror... What was the real deal for patients spending time in here, I wonder?
Ooh we love these.
Pucker blast from the past.
Not available for heavy late night seshes though
Orderlies' locker areas in Whitchurch are full of curiosities.
Stickers of topless broads, orange/banana stickers...
I found The World According to Clarkson Volume 4 in one of them too, hehe
The nice seasonal touches have been stowed away tidily.
Would have been more adequate for that particular day's weather!
The next section is arguably the 'treasure chest'.
A closer look in the Eastern Wards is where one can find Whitchurch delivering the authentic medical goods.
The missus' is a medical student and was quick to identify the utensils on these trays.
They're mainly catheters, blood pressure measuring devices, inhalers, anesthetics and such, not much heavy stuff.
Not pictured here, but on the lowest tray in this particular room was a bullet shell, I believe from police raid training exercises that happen in Whitchurch nowadays.
Don't know how it got to this tray though?
Even the secure unit wards in Whitchurch have quite a homely and civilised vibe.
In the Eastern Wards alone I counted at least 5 pool tables.
I tried to have a whirl with it but they wouldn't accept the new £1 coins, damn treasury.
With that said, the rooms themselves were not homely at all.
Any visitors who want to wash their hair in this museum need only bring their own towel.
The main corridor walls are also splattered with very interesting and informative posters about the hospital's twilight years.
There's even some arts therapy around; a collage of a rainbow, creative writing pieces, and more.
But at the end of the day,
as with evolution on this planet and in the farthest reaches of the cosmos,
progress will slowly reclaim and bury frail and outdated ideas about how to live life as a communal species...
That's about it for 30 photos, don't want to overdo it.
Many many curiosities are missing from this report, including;
The clothes shop,
Much more reading material,
Much more interesting signposting,
The washers and dryers (not that big though),
The chapel,
Stair lifts,
More hoarded old tat...
But they'll be documented very thoroughly in time I'm sure.
One remark I want to make though, is that I am a bit miffed about the security situation. Never thought I'd say this, but I don't think it's stringent enough. From what I thought was once an impenetrable array of locked windows from head to toe of the entire building, it has become more colander-like each time I visited. This will not only speed up entropic decay, but attract more little shits to ruin what quite frankly must be the most pristine and massive hospital nationwide right now. I hope security pick up the slack again.
Safesafe
I don't really know what the future holds for it either.
Undoubtedly it could go several different trajectories over the next decade.
Stringent security and little damage/decay,
or systematic looting and vandalism...
Redevelopment into flats whilst retaining some listed features,
or demolition altogether...
Either way, when the bulk of the classic asylums were only a couple of years into their disuse, urban exploring hadn't formed an online community or reached the popularity it has now.
For instance, I'm skeptical a photo exists of Cane Hill in 1993 (but if it does, I'd love to see)?
Whitchurch will surely be visited a lot by the new generation, but it's almost too big of a site to take in all in one go.
Whether the sum of its parts seems like epic or not, there is a wealth of discrete curiosities hidden away in cubby holes around Whitchurch; paperwork, medical equipment, historical relics and so forth, that will I'm sure be slowly documented piece by piece as time goes by.
In this report I wanted to show some of the smaller features and objects I came across on several, that I haven't seen photographed in other reports thus far (as well as a sort of 2018 status update for the bigger features that are hard to miss).
And obviously, I will have missed many that others didn't...
But such a place like this needs several needle-threaders to sew its full tapestry together, just as the OG explorers did for the bygone asylums.
Whitchurch isn't quite the same kettle of fish as Cane or High Royds etc, because it didn't finish its life;
1. In the same era of healthcare practice,
2. Carrying the title of 'asylum'.
It's been very remodeled a lot over the years to meet the needs of 21st century healthcare, albeit in an elderly kind of fashion. But it's a sort of... I don't quite know...
Maybe, serene middle ground, between what we would call the barbaric healthcare practices of Victorian era asylum healthcare, and the super-liberal and non-institutional era of mental health today.
A few written status updates before the photos;
If one looks at Whitchurch on Google Maps satellite, the western side of the hospital is where the older wards are, most used for consultancies (Tom correct me if I'm wrong). The far North-West corner ward is currently locked off (I believe it was the first to close down), and most of the rest of the Western wards are alarmed. I didn't mooch around here much.
The middle portion of the hospital from above is where the communal areas lie; recreation hall, canteen, kitchen, industrial infrastructure, even a clothing shop.
And on the Eastern side are the newer wards and secure units. Not much locking up done here.
The day of this particular visit was probably the snowiest I've seen Britain in many years, the untouched powder in the usually grassy courtyards on the day of visit almost came up to my knees.
The pictures are only from a point-and-shoot by the way, not a DSLR, so apologies about the grain on some of the snaps.
The first thing a visitor to this museum would hopefully appreciate is the signposting.
The way the white and blue, English and Welsh plaques are suspended ever so symmetrically put a smile on my face at least.
The recreation hall is an obvious highlight.
Pristine condition and some top-tier intricate heraldry make the show (oh, and the absolutely glorious Union Jacks too, of course, god save the queen)
Rooms on the left are the remaining setting of a public exhibition on the history of the hospital by the Whitchurch Historical Society.
The still in-tune Italian grand piano is another well-known treat (having learnt piano growing up I did have a little tinkle of Chopin's Op9 No1 on it, and it's a beaut to play).
Despite closing in 2016, a year where almost every professional in his/her field carries a personal iPad and a business Mac or something, a vintage PC like this is strangely humbling.
Below is essentially what the bulk of the Whitchurch experience looks like: miles of trademark 19th century county/city asylum corridor.
All are echoey, eerie, and immaculately clean.
Not pictured in this report in the interest of keeping the photos to 30,
but recurrent Whitchurch features I want to discuss are the flappy, almost quarantine style doors, which feel more cut out for an anthrax lab than a dated psychiatric hospital.
One can see them in most other Whitchurch reports.
They're everywhere also, and many have some quite ominous markings on them.
Any other visitors know what they were for? I'm out of ideas.
Another distinctive Whitchurch feature: circular convex mirrors.
They're everywhere.
Again, why? I can't quite work it out. @tumbles , could the boss inform an beginner asylum-seeker?
The canteen was a surprise - I didn't notice it on my previous visit.
Impressive stacking and not a speck of dirt left on the dishes, despite a somehow not mouldy half eaten tart lying on the table (wasn't me, either).
Plaques demonstrating heartfelt community values of bygone decades reward the curious...
There are countless opportunities for literature/paperwork pit stops in Whitchurch.
Here's just one of many for those fond of the legal sector.
The room below had little clues as to its past life remaining, but its decor was probably the most early-20th-century of all the dozens of rooms I dropped into.
That carpet is just splendid.
The kitchen is a good one, spread out over several big rooms.
I'm no buff for industrial scale equipment but the huge hoods were my favourite feature here.
Colour schemes of corridors subtly change whichever way one turns;
Red-white, blue-cream, etc etc....
The superintendents during Whitchurch's life were notably forward-thinking, so I've read.
I assume they generally didn't subscribe to lobotomy padded cell-style pauper lunatic asylum practices that add a chill-factor to asylums as we know them best.
Hence, there's a large amount of occupational therapy infrastructure lurking around, such as this bathing aparatus for the physically frail.
Not quite Browning Ward @ Cane Hill circa 2006...
But hospital beds are still hospital beds.
All their aesthetic glory is available with a pinch of sunlight.
Loading bays and non-patient areas are mostly now storage units for a wide variety of tat from back in day.
Clothes... There're heaps of them lying around, everywhere. Here's just one of many.
A bit sad.
They're not even gowns or scrubs or coats, they all seem to be casual wear.
Why left I wonder?
This shot seems to be the staple fixture for a Whitchurch visit.
The very aesthetic sprawling ivy doesn't seem to be growing as fast as ivy should, though...
I'm fine with that.
Reminds me of those arts-and-crafts lizards covered in multicoloured mock-jewels, you know?
Located in the older West Wards, one of the few rooms not currently alarmed or locked. Watch your step!
I didn't even move the cane here, but this scene got me.
I would say a few 'helping hands' can be counted in the entire scene and context of this image.
Again, in the Eastern Wards and secure units, no padded-cell style practice can be traced of late.
They have a much more homely feel than 70s-90s closing asylums.
This room in particular stood out.
Bike, ironing board, and a double mirror... What was the real deal for patients spending time in here, I wonder?
Ooh we love these.
Pucker blast from the past.
Not available for heavy late night seshes though
Orderlies' locker areas in Whitchurch are full of curiosities.
Stickers of topless broads, orange/banana stickers...
I found The World According to Clarkson Volume 4 in one of them too, hehe
The nice seasonal touches have been stowed away tidily.
Would have been more adequate for that particular day's weather!
The next section is arguably the 'treasure chest'.
A closer look in the Eastern Wards is where one can find Whitchurch delivering the authentic medical goods.
The missus' is a medical student and was quick to identify the utensils on these trays.
They're mainly catheters, blood pressure measuring devices, inhalers, anesthetics and such, not much heavy stuff.
Not pictured here, but on the lowest tray in this particular room was a bullet shell, I believe from police raid training exercises that happen in Whitchurch nowadays.
Don't know how it got to this tray though?
Even the secure unit wards in Whitchurch have quite a homely and civilised vibe.
In the Eastern Wards alone I counted at least 5 pool tables.
I tried to have a whirl with it but they wouldn't accept the new £1 coins, damn treasury.
With that said, the rooms themselves were not homely at all.
Any visitors who want to wash their hair in this museum need only bring their own towel.
The main corridor walls are also splattered with very interesting and informative posters about the hospital's twilight years.
There's even some arts therapy around; a collage of a rainbow, creative writing pieces, and more.
But at the end of the day,
as with evolution on this planet and in the farthest reaches of the cosmos,
progress will slowly reclaim and bury frail and outdated ideas about how to live life as a communal species...
That's about it for 30 photos, don't want to overdo it.
Many many curiosities are missing from this report, including;
The clothes shop,
Much more reading material,
Much more interesting signposting,
The washers and dryers (not that big though),
The chapel,
Stair lifts,
More hoarded old tat...
But they'll be documented very thoroughly in time I'm sure.
One remark I want to make though, is that I am a bit miffed about the security situation. Never thought I'd say this, but I don't think it's stringent enough. From what I thought was once an impenetrable array of locked windows from head to toe of the entire building, it has become more colander-like each time I visited. This will not only speed up entropic decay, but attract more little shits to ruin what quite frankly must be the most pristine and massive hospital nationwide right now. I hope security pick up the slack again.
Safesafe
