By the ruins of a Castle, a Priory, a city gate, rises one modern anomaly, steadfast against all elements, a relic from the industrial age. A found object, a disused landmark, towering out of shielding trees, loved and unloved by the village of Castle Acre. Restored and reused on a shoe-string budget, Rusty tank a panelled Tudor hall, Hung timber rooms a timber spiral stair. Minimal intervention, purity of structure, Ivy growing, wind blowing a field of barley, Nature returns for the romantic industrial ruin
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