“It’s over there somewhere”
I pointed across some bare farmers' fields squinting to see anything remotely urban.
“I can’t see a damn thing”, retorted 
“Well it is, so get your water and let’s go”
After finding a rabbit path through the 'Giles' land, we eventually came upon what looked like an old decaying river.
Cherry Orchard Farm is a collection of approximately eight derelict farm buildings set within extensive grounds and situated on the north bank of the River Ouse, near Selby.
The site was originally an independent farm dating back to the late 1800s, and would often host livestock auctions.
It was taken over by Selby Farms Ltd in 1998, who own four other farms locally. However, they never used the Cherry Orchard site and the farm fell into a state of disrepair.
As of 2021, the overgrown farm has been badly vandalised, stripped of any valuables, and the buildings are now crumbling shells.
Source
The farm was coming into view and it was a real wreck.
I was not expecting old wheelchairs, personal documents from the '60s, or war memories, in fact, getting close to Cherry Orchard Farm was proving problematic.
"It's a bloody nettle fest", I said to
We made it to the back which was thankfully less infested and looked for the door. No door means the window, not a big deal as the glass had been broken off long ago.
I jumped through the window into the expected derp. At least there was a little dialogue to read.
More than a little actually…, one could visit to increase their sexual theory knowledge.
If we were going to venture upstairs then a different approach would be needed. Jumping and grabbing the edge of that wasn't going to happen.
The dates of these ancient writings were from 2018, around 3 years prior.
Some of it was a little more direct than others. I discovered thought-provoking images.
.. and some more like a short story. If you're 65 or thereabouts then it's still OK to apply, you need to be petite though. It is unfortunate that the contact number has been blotted out. I know many of my readers would be interested.
The styling of this building does not look exactly antique, more 60's council house era. This contradicts the history I found. None of what I saw looked remotely Victorian.
Handy microwave ovens and other old white goods had been used by enterprising explorers to try and gain access to the upper levels, only to be thwarted by a block of concrete.
This was the only part I noticed where the owners had attempted to keep people out.
A rare graffiti-free room with nature threatening to take over.
Should I go up? Of course, what else?
Up there was decidedly sketchy. Whole large areas had no floor and it was a little creaky underfoot.
Once a fireplace existed but someone pulled it out, maybe with their bare hands?
I was never very good at Algebra. Can anyone figure out this equation?
It's not so bad really, the top step after the gap is always suspect and a little weak. You could potentially crash through it and maybe break your ankle if unlucky.
If you bottle out of the upstairs parts you miss dazzling shots like this. I couldn’t have lived without seeing that beer can on the floor.
If the downstairs fireplace room was void of graffiti then this one made up for it.
How many damn fireplaces do you need in one house? Someone could have felt there were a little too many and decided to burn this one down.
Now, getting to the other side could prove a little tricky.
If I had not made it, then I would have missed fireplace #13. That would have been devastating.
Indeed, I have to agree…
This was one large property or was it more than one?
Some decent steps at last.
I was thinking about renaming this to 'The Fireplace House'. I mean, what's with all these.. and orange paint on your walls?
Some areas were a no-go, even for me.
That eye is quite decent but has been painted over. As much as I laughed at what I was reading, the writers were hardly artists.
Where trees are winding their way through your house, it's probably a little late to save it. The owners bought it to simply rot away?
What could have been boring turned into quite an entertaining mooch. A wholehearted thanks to all the talented writers who contributed to making my traipse across that field in the heat worthwhile.
There was little in the adjoining barns besides some big tyres and axles.
tries in vain to get into the far house but is repelled by monstrous nettles’…The hot weather doesn’t half make these bastards grow high. I’m talking as big as me.
The massive tin shed held a big nothing inside besides lots of fresh, or maybe not so fresh... air. It was a mile walk back to the car over that field again.
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