From the outside, the bungalow barely looks like a building at all. Trees have grown up tight against its red-brick walls, nettles fill the front garden, and the windows are boarded with pale plywood. The white glazed front door stands open on darkness. A brick gatepost with a small blue plaque is the only thing at the front that still looks cared for, and even that is half-hidden by the growth. It is a small house, and it has been disappearing into its garden for a good number of years.
The post that documents it, dated 17 December 2025, is honest about how little is known. The explorer says he has no information and no history on who the bungalow belonged to. What he does have is what was left inside, and what was left inside tells a story of its own — not about a person, but about what that person liked. Everything in this article comes from that post and from the five photographs shown here. No location beyond the West Midlands is given, and no owner is named.




Reading a house from what was left
Some abandoned houses in this series are identified by a name on a letter, a portrait on a desk, or a story the explorer was told. This one is identified by its shelves. The bungalow, the post says, was left with DVDs everywhere, as well as posters, plus games, science-fiction DVDs, and books left scattered about. The five photographs back that up in detail.
The third photograph is the clearest evidence of the house’s decline. A gold crystal chandelier hangs from a damaged ceiling in a yellow-walled room, its crystals dusty, its bulbs mismatched. Below it, a table is covered in debris and DVD cases, and a dark wood display cabinet stands against the wall. The ceiling above the chandelier is broken open, the plaster hanging down in strips. The chandelier is the kind of thing that once meant a room was finished and cared for. Now it hangs over a pile of rubbish.
The fourth photograph is a close view of the floor: a pile of dusty PlayStation 2 game cases, their covers still legible through the dirt — Devil May Cry, Sphinx, and others stacked and scattered on a filthy surface. A “pre-owned £4.99” sticker is visible on one case. These are not the possessions of a house that was emptied carefully. They are the possessions of a house that was left, and then picked over, and then left again.
The fifth photograph shows the bookcase, and it is the most personal of the five. Two wooden shelves, still standing, hold science-fiction and fantasy paperbacks: Guy Gavriel Kay’s “A Song for Arbonne” is visible on the top shelf, along with Asimov, Terry Brooks, and other names from the same shelves. The wallpaper behind them is yellow and patterned. A wire basket lies in the foreground. Whoever lived here read a lot, and read in one genre, and kept the books in order long after the rest of the house fell apart.
The caravan and the nickname
The second photograph is not of the house at all. It is a derelict wooden caravan standing outside, its aluminium skin peeled away, its yellowed insulation hanging out of the frame, its door open on a dark interior. The caravan’s roof is green with algae, and a tree grows close beside it. The post does not say whether the caravan belonged to the house or was dumped there later. It is simply there, another abandoned thing next to an abandoned house, rotting at the same pace.
The post also says something that needs handling carefully. The bungalow, it says, was left with adult DVDs everywhere as well as posters, and it was called the “p*rn bungalow” in the urbex world because of this — the post’s own censored wording. That nickname is part of the post’s account, and it is repeated here only as the post’s account. It is also the reason this article describes the DVD cases in the photographs without dwelling on their covers: the cases visible in the third photograph are ordinary film and game cases, and the adult material the post mentions is not shown in any of the five photographs here.
What the nickname does tell us, fairly, is that the bungalow was well known among explorers, and that it was visited often. The post says the place has seen a lot of vandalism as well as wear and tear over the years, and the photographs show both: the broken ceiling, the scattered cases, the debris on every surface. A house that is visited often and never secured is a house that gets picked apart, and this one has been.
What the five photographs do and do not prove
It is worth being exact. The photographs establish that this is a small red-brick bungalow in the West Midlands with boarded windows, an open front door, and a garden that has grown wild around it; that inside it there were science-fiction books, PlayStation 2 games, DVDs, and a chandelier; and that outside it there was a derelict caravan. They establish that the house has suffered vandalism and weather damage, and that it has been empty for a good number of years — the post’s own vague wording, repeated here without improvement.
They do not establish who lived here, when they left, or why. The post says plainly that it has no information and no history on who the bungalow belonged to, and that the explorer does not know how long, exactly, it has been abandoned. The blue plaque on the gatepost, visible in the first photograph, cannot be read from the image, and its text is not claimed here.
| What the post says | What the five photos show | What is not known |
|---|---|---|
| A small bungalow, a little time capsule | A small red-brick bungalow, boarded, overgrown | Who lived here, or when they left |
| Abandoned a good number of years | Wear, vandalism, wild garden, broken ceiling | The exact number of years |
| Vandalism and wear and tear | Scattered cases, debris, a damaged ceiling | When the damage happened |
| DVDs, games, sci-fi DVDs, books scattered | PS2 games, sci-fi paperbacks, DVD cases | How much was taken or destroyed |
| No info or history on the owner | No letters, portraits or names in the photos | Anything about the former occupant |
A house that is lived in and for sale is a different kind of place from this one: a lived-in 1902 home in Alexandria, Minnesota shows what upkeep and a price look like, where this bungalow shows what happens when upkeep stops and nobody comes back. More houses in this condition are gathered in abandoned houses and in abandoned mansions, and the site’s front page is abandoned.blog.
FAQ
Where is this bungalow?
The post says the West Midlands. No town, street or exact location is given, and none is given here.
How long has it been abandoned?
The post says a good number of years, without a number. Nothing more precise is published.
Who lived there?
The post says it has no information and no history on who the bungalow belonged to. Nothing is known.
What was left inside?
According to the post and the photographs: DVDs, PlayStation 2 games, science-fiction and fantasy books, posters, and furniture including a chandelier and a bookcase.
What is the caravan outside?
A derelict wooden caravan stands outside the bungalow, its skin peeled and its insulation exposed. The post does not say whether it belonged to the house.
Why is it called by a nickname in the urbex world?
The post says it was given a nickname because adult DVDs were left everywhere in the house. That is the post’s account, repeated here in its own censored wording.
Can I visit it?
No visiting information is given here, and entering private property without permission is not encouraged.
Disclaimer
This article is general information only, not legal, tax, or financial advice. Rules on abandoned and private property differ by state and county; check county/local records and a local professional before acting. The account of the bungalow and what was left inside is as reported in the source post and has not been independently verified.
Photos
Photos by Luke2Explore, via the original Facebook post: https://www.facebook.com/Luke2Explore/posts/abandoned-bungalow-west-midsa-small-little-bungalow-with-a-little-time-capsule-l/1316813577150994/ — 5 of the 16 photos are shown here.
