The fence between the posts has thick chainmail on it, so getting a view of the house itself between overgrown trees and bushes involved me clambering up a small wall and hanging over the top with my arm outstretched and clicking the camera. Unfortunately, I couldn't look through the viewfinder and do this hence the haphazard nature of my camera work.
The house is two storey with gardens on both levels and a bridge over the lower garden to the front door. Not that my camera picked this up. I was just lucky I was seeing bits of the house through the wilderness.
I'd be a hopeless spy. My hanging onto the gates and clicking was made more difficult by a fading battery which kept closing down the camera, just when I got a half decent shot.
From my glimpses through the trees I could make out a lovely house which nature has reclaimed.
At one stage the gardens would have been magnificent, even now they remind one of a secret garden hidden away for years from public eye.
Thought I'd got a good shot here, but just got the tree!
This was better and by hanging on to the top of the fence balanced precariously I got this view. Worryingly, a few tourists were stopping beneath me on the pavement curious about this plump woman hanging over a six foot high fence above them.
I care not what people think! The joy of being mid fifty is that you have left behind the dreadful self consciousness of youth and the self absorption of the forties. But I am tiring of getting only tiny glimpses of the beauty which lies here before me.
Blasted battery failed me again. James Bond never had to deal with such petty things. A man below asks concerned, "Are you stuck up there?"
I answer politely, "No, I am fine!" He is reluctant to move on and by now there are five of them below, a crowd is gathering and that brings others. Several are pointing up at me and others come from across the road to see what is going on.
Bloody busybodies people are so nosey! Mind you speaking of nosy, here am I hanging over someone else's property clicking like mad. Talk about the pot calling the kettle black!
I get down and decide to try the back of the premises. I am now sounding like a burglar, I notice. I go through a parking yard, the combination lock was intimidating, but someone had left the gate ajar. So I was able to step over a small wall into the rough back end of the garden.
At one stage this must have been an outdoor bar area but nature has taken over and trees grow behind the counter. It reminds one that without us cities would soon look very different.
At last a view of the house from behind! I feel I have risked life and limb to catch this glimpse.
Perhaps, at one stage the house had a tennis court in its gardens? All is broken and in bad shape. But at least I can see the large windows at the back now.
I am having to clamber over rubble to get a better look.
This outhouse has seen better days.
From behind the huge apartment blocks loom over the lovely house.
The garden at the back is still lovely, despite all these years of being unattended.
That huge window must light up the whole back of the house bringing the garden into the upper floor. And here it lies unseen and forgotten. I am so glad to discover this house and despite not getting all the way in feel a sense of achievement. What a good way to spend a Saturday morning. Also, slightly relieved I didn't break an ankle or fall in between two boulders and have to saw an arm off to free myself. At this age one learns to be grateful for the weirdest things!
