Tales of the Urban Explorer: St Peter and Pauls Church

Derelict Churches, I am not a fan. If you want to see a church, just walk in and covertly take some shots when the vicar is not looking. What’s the difference between this and something that’s been left?  In some cases, very little, especially if it’s a recent closure. Otherwise, if left for years, they can be relatively photogenic. With ‘*St Peter and Pauls Church*’, it lies flatly at the latter end of those extremes. In all my years of exploring, this was the toughest entrance I have encountered. If you had offered me £200 to ‘*do it again*’, on the day I extracted myself from this church, I would tell you to fuck off. Let me start from the beginning, as I have a tale to tell. @anidiotexplorers came up with the pin for this church, and simultaneously I was handed the location from @ninjakitten who informed me she was going to visit *shortly*.  I don’t know whether that happened, but if it did, then my sincere sympathies follow.  We approached the outside gates to see a couple hanging around, looking undecided. Knowing ‘*St Peter and Pauls Church*’ was on the #TourBus I asked them, “Are you going in?”  They were undecided but thought better of it and informed me as such. After climbing the relatively simple gates, a portacabin was the next obstacle. Could the sheer mass of brand-new razor wire be proving a deterrent? Surely not, and any hardened explorer worth their salt was expecting several lacerations if they wanted to get in there? After climbing up the portacabin, thanks to a traffic cone that duly sank beneath my weight, I ambled on to the wall only to be met with a **LOT** of razor wire. <center>  ...***'How I straddled that and got away with it, I still don't know. Someone up there was looking out for me'...*** </center> The next stage was to straddle it, knowing one false move meant the wire would attach itself to my jeans and would relentlessly stick. Having a twelve-foot drop on either side was not doing my stress levels much good, and my balance is not what it used to be. Delicately moving one leg to the far side and hoping for the best, it was then a question of traversing the large drop.  Someone had placed a thick wooden pole in the corner, which did help, and once over the wire, I made it safely into the leafy, overgrown grounds. The only way in to ‘*St Peter and Pauls Church*’ was via a small window which proved a pain in the arse. Head first, I managed to get through, knowing I would have to do all this bullshit in reverse once we were finished with the place. On the inside, a plastic chair helped somewhat. If only my feet and arse could fit through first. What a luxury that would be.  We arrived in what looked like a small kitchen. It did seem like it had been empty for years and the sheer difficulty of getting inside, is what has saved ‘*St Peter and Pauls Church*’ from the usual mass vandalism. ![2_IMG_0345_2.jpg](https://files.peakd.com/file/peakd-hive/slobberchops/23wMcL […]