It’s quite embarrassing to post about ‘The Red Nova House’ in the year 2026, while everyone else was in around 5 years ago. @anidiotexplores and I must have been among the last unwelcome visitors to this ‘house ’, which is likely renovated by now.

I say this because my visit was in May 2024, and I’m forgetting the details, the experiences, and everything else related to these visits, as it was so long ago.

While @anidiotexplores had done this one before, my previous attempt to the southerly edges of Stoke-on-Trent in search of the ‘Red Nova’ failed miserably due to crap intelligence. Some arsehole gave me the wrong pin, in other words.

In times gone by ‘The Red Nova House’ was a decent time capsule and contained an old Vauxhall Nova in the colour of red stored in a garage. Word got out; a car thief summarily visited and nicked all the parts of value, then listed them on eBay and left behind a vehicle shell.

The Urban Exploration scene violently reacted to the news, arms up in the air, chickens squawking; someone got blamed, they got publicly denounced, and then it was quickly forgotten.

This was an unwelcome sight. Trees cleared, visible evidence of human activity and, worst of all, a tractor. It was evident someone had been doing some work on or around the grounds of ‘The Red Nova House’.

Was I too late?

Undeterred, we climbed the metal gate at the edge of the property and gingerly walked toward the house, very aware that an angry new owner could be hanging around, doing some cleaning, or even watching us with a deadly sharpened trident in hand.

Luck prevailed, and we made it to the garage where the famous wreck now stands. Other than that, the garage had several items of interest.

Who says nothing happened during World War II besides killing? Someone passed their rudimentary piano exam in 1942. Fuck knows who, as the scrawling is not very legible.

I figure that rusty circular saw could take someone’s head off, if you held them down. Don’t forget the gag.

A newspaper article complaining about the state of parking in 1992. Could it be that writings such as this started the birth of those parasite parking companies?

St Austell Bay; sounds like something straight out of a Famous Five Enid Blyton children’s book.

A pint of milk was 34p in 1991? To be honest, that seems expensive for the time, although it’s the real stuff and not the watered-down supermarket shit we get now.

Old historic family photographs should always be stored in a dusty, damp garage where they can easily be damaged.

Harry Secombe, ack... I don’t want to go there. Bad memories of terrible yawny TV when growing up.

… and there it is, the infamous Red Nova with @anidiotexplorers posing on one knee in blessed reverence.

What a wonder piece of heritage this is; worth every mile of painful driving to see this historical miracle.

I gathered my thoughts and tried to concentrate, knowing the house was still unexplored, but it was difficult as my mind was still whirling. I had been witness to one of the ancient motoring wonders of England, so whatever came next was going to pale stiffly in comparison.

Climbing through a window, like dirty burglars, we arrived in the kitchen. It looked like the new buyer had not started emptying the house.

A pictorial biography from 1965 of the grumpy prime minister who was running the country during World War II. Not my type of literature.

The style of the label says everything, truly ancient!

It was nice to see some authentic cobwebs. I was not too late after all.

Sheet music, just 5p. That’s 1’, not that I remember such medieval currencies.

Sometimes I love to read these old advertisements, especially about smoking being good for you, but on this occasion, it was just about some boring chrome cleaner.

Time after time I see photographs of people wearing ridiculous attire. Would you want to see this dude every morning looking at you?

The windows need a little cleaning, and then you might be able to see something besides spiders and their webs.

So untidy; do some cleaning up… someone.

The can of 3-in-1 oil is a familiar sight to me; everything else is out of the ark.

I figure some tidying has been done. Kitchens are generally so full of crap you can barely move.

It was time to leave via the kitchen window again; I would still rate ‘The Red Nova House’ as a time capsule, at the time of visitation.

Just a few more months and it would be far too late for further visits. This one was on the edge of exploring territory, and I was feeling more than a little uncomfortable.

Having left the property, we got in my car and had to drive past the entrance of ‘The Red Nova House’. Given the fact that I parked no more than 200 yards away, I felt a sense of relief while driving past it.

The gate was open, and a car had entered the premises. A bloke was getting out and watched us pass by ever so smugly, suspicion clearly etched into his face.

Did he know it was us? Had we been secretly camera’d, and he had turned up just a few minutes too late? We will never know.

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