It is a very surreal experience when you take a wrong turn down a city street as the sun slips below the horizon, and find yourself inside a Stephen King novel. Really, that was how it felt. An entire row of abandoned shops, dust settling eerily on furniture that was just left after the earthquake struck. Like this florists, where the flowers were now most definitely dried rather than fresh:

As if the spooky quiet and cracks in the walls weren’t enough to deter entry to the abandoned block, this friendly graffiti  sprayed onto the window was sufficient to send me hurriedly on my way…

…before I could get invited in by a curious old man who would no doubt drag me into an eternal nightmare….