By now the group decided to return to the southern parts of the hospital which meant either retracting
their route through the “horseshoe” corridor or snaking down the central core corridors.
They accessed the later route by crossing the former drying ground and entering the buildings
via the laundry. They then moved quickly south before entering Female Ward ‘A’ (Browning/Blake)
in the south-western corner of the complex.
A security guard shouted. “Oi, you! Out! Get out of there now. GET OUT.” Sheepishly the team
decided their luck had run out and they’d been caught. The plan of waiting for darkness and then
sneaking out discretely was dashed.
They shuffled out of the building by taking the fire escape down to the ground level. The guard was
absolutely astonished. Not by the team’s honesty and by their prompt surrender; but because he’d been
shouting at his dog to come out of the buildings and was rather surprised when his shouts netted him three urban explorers instead.
The group endured the lectures and threats and waiting for the (now) wearisome police to turn up to deal with yet more
trespassers in Cane Hill. Yet the team’s daring was not all for nothing: many previously unphotographed parts of the building
were now captured.
Yet Cane Hill was about to change for the last time. Little did I know that I would brave the guards just under a year later,
breaking my own exile, in one last mad dash around Cane Hill. A Cane Hill which would be very different to the
and his friends had just photographed.
Because I had to see for myself the final disintegration of our Titanic.
Text: © Simon Cornwell 2009
Photos: © Marlon Bones 2007