Sally Ann Shelter

As I mentioned in my previous post, I was afforded precious little time in between Easter gorgings to allow me to get any serious explorations undertaken in London.

I was, however, able to escape my gastronomic chains to be able to get downtown to the former Salvation Army Men's Mission. The Sally Ann operated a 100-bed temporary shelter, thrift store, and provided other social services at this location since being built in 1952. The Salvation Army latter sold the property in 2003 and have since moved to their new digs at the corner of Bathurst and Wellington Streets.

Here is a short video of the exploration . . .

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Since coming onto the 'UrbEx' market in 2003, paint peel production (P3) has kicked it into high gear. Everywhere within this 3-story brick structure one may view absolutely exquisite peelers in a rainbow of tacky institutional hues . . . Lets start in the stairwells ->










Similarly, a panorama of peelers may be found in the passageways. Melt water, finding its way into the the structure had formed a frictionless sheet of ice. Were it not for the peelers on the floors, yours truly may well have gone a$$ over tea-kettle . . . . (whatever that means - ? )










This propensity for peelers did not confine itself to the perimeters of the above-mentioned stairwells and hallways. Indeed, they may also be found within the group dormitories. ! ! TEST ! ! - What colour do you think this dormitory was before some kind-hearted soul chose a more neutral (read: "natural") hue ? ?








Time for an intra-post image randomness . . .
What does Clark Gable and a roof-access ladder have in common - - not much I think BUT both of these things may be found in this hostel.










Attached to the shelter is a two-story storage / warehouse deal. As I entered the large open space upstairs, I took notice of a large cat checking out my exploratory progress from the other side of a window. I also noticed the classic 'is it a wagon wheel or a chandelier' ceiling fixture. What I did not notice was the gang of vicious attack-pigeons laying in wait for me . . .









At the time of my exploration, the toilet bowls were surprisingly devoid of any hobo-dumplings. As I was denied my 'di rigeur' money-$hot, I had to settle for a urinal and weird-a$$ basin stand.












Until next time, Happy & Safe Exploring . . .