Here’s an oldie but derpy.
Admired (!) by thousands of commuters on the Portsmouth-London A3 every day and just a pavement’s width from the thundering traffic… Ravens Nightclub.
Originally the site of a 16th century coaching inn named The Seven Thornes, which was reputedly used by highwaymen, who were prolific in the area. What’s left today are the remains of the inn which was rebuilt in the early 20th century.
In the late 60s/early 70s The Seven Thorns was renamed the 'Spaniards Inn'. But the new name apparently did nothing to shake off the pub’s rough reputation and it continued to be the place to go for dodgy gear and villainous deals.
There’s an old story that a lad from the local village wanted some tyres for his Austin A40 and sneaked into the 'Seven Thorns' car park with a wheel brace and a pile of bricks. He returned to the village looking a bit shaken. He said “I'd got back to my own car when I heard a yell from the car park and saw two coppers jumping up and down beside the car I'd nicked the wheels from. Someone turned on the lights and I saw the car was pale blue with 'Police' written on the side!”
Out back there was an old black barn where it’s said a local band used to practice in the late 60s; they went by the name of Fleetwood Mac.
In the 1980s the venue was renamed Ravens nightclub, but it closed after the owner died of a heart attack following an altercation one night. A subsequent ‘mysterious’ fire turned it into a ruin and cost the insurer a pretty penny. Subsequent planning applications have been refused and the place has been left to gradually fall apart.
The front is in poor condition
But the back is much worse
Whilst there is some semblance of structure around the old sunken dance floor ...
... the roof and floor above are doing little to keep the rain out
Ironically, the most intact room that remains is the gents
Complete with its peeling metallic paint
And out back, what I assume is the last remains of the 'Fleetwod Mac' barn.
A few relics litter the undergrowth
Along with reminders of happier times, when the party goers would get legless...
... and the girls danced round their handbags
Sadly today, only Bambi dances here
Thanks for looking
Admired (!) by thousands of commuters on the Portsmouth-London A3 every day and just a pavement’s width from the thundering traffic… Ravens Nightclub.
Originally the site of a 16th century coaching inn named The Seven Thornes, which was reputedly used by highwaymen, who were prolific in the area. What’s left today are the remains of the inn which was rebuilt in the early 20th century.
In the late 60s/early 70s The Seven Thorns was renamed the 'Spaniards Inn'. But the new name apparently did nothing to shake off the pub’s rough reputation and it continued to be the place to go for dodgy gear and villainous deals.
There’s an old story that a lad from the local village wanted some tyres for his Austin A40 and sneaked into the 'Seven Thorns' car park with a wheel brace and a pile of bricks. He returned to the village looking a bit shaken. He said “I'd got back to my own car when I heard a yell from the car park and saw two coppers jumping up and down beside the car I'd nicked the wheels from. Someone turned on the lights and I saw the car was pale blue with 'Police' written on the side!”
Out back there was an old black barn where it’s said a local band used to practice in the late 60s; they went by the name of Fleetwood Mac.
In the 1980s the venue was renamed Ravens nightclub, but it closed after the owner died of a heart attack following an altercation one night. A subsequent ‘mysterious’ fire turned it into a ruin and cost the insurer a pretty penny. Subsequent planning applications have been refused and the place has been left to gradually fall apart.
The front is in poor condition
But the back is much worse
Whilst there is some semblance of structure around the old sunken dance floor ...
... the roof and floor above are doing little to keep the rain out
Ironically, the most intact room that remains is the gents
Complete with its peeling metallic paint
And out back, what I assume is the last remains of the 'Fleetwod Mac' barn.
A few relics litter the undergrowth
Along with reminders of happier times, when the party goers would get legless...
... and the girls danced round their handbags
Sadly today, only Bambi dances here
Thanks for looking