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I was going to continue on to The Fruin to cross off another Marilyn but it's honestly so easy to lose the path across the bog in this mist. Another day when there's less chance of getting lost on the moor.
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They call it the Hill House Box and it's to prevent the house from, in the words of the signage, "dissolving like an aspirin in a glass of water." Maybe I had nuclear power on the brain being only a few kilometres from Trident but it put me in mind of the Chornobyl sarcophagus.
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An interestingly horrifying evocation given the link to Shirley Jackson's ghost story set in a house of the same name.