Tour Report: Hotel "Lampshade"

On a bleak, cold day in November 2020, we set out to explore an abandoned hotel. It stands on the edge of a small village in the Thuringian Forest and was closed in the early 1990s after barely a decade of operation.

The drive from our accommodation was not exactly short—just over two hours. Along the way, we took in the late autumn scenery: the cold and damp had wrapped the Thuringian Forest in a dense veil of fog that would linger with us throughout the entire day.

The hotel sits atop a hill. To the south and west lie residential areas; on the eastern slope, a few cattle grazed quietly on a wide pasture, while to the north the complex borders an expansive stretch of forest.

We parked some distance away in a spot that seemed inconspicuous and made our way toward the building. The fog swallowed every sound. There was no wind, and the cold felt sharp and still—I couldn’t help but feel like we had stepped into the opening scene of a horror film.

Even from afar, the structures were visible: a large, prefabricated six-story accommodation block, flanked by two lower annexes that once housed kitchens, dining halls, and various other facilities.

Finding a way inside didn’t take long. Within minutes, we discovered an open door and slipped into the building. We began by exploring the guest room block. As was typical in socialist times, the rooms were all identical: beds, a wardrobe, a lamp, and a small shelf.

The higher we climbed, the more evident the decay became. Water had clearly been leaking in from the roof, and the damage intensified with each floor. The mold was so pervasive that, despite the cold, we could almost taste the decay in the air. We didn’t even want to imagine what it must be like here in summer.

I found the small shelves particularly charming. Much like the rooms themselves, they existed in various stages of decay—from nearly pristine to damp and green with mold, all the way to completely gone. Tracing this “path of decay” in detail would go too far here, but I’ve included a small photo at the end of this post that captures it quite well.

After finishing the hotel section, we moved on to the areas that once housed the restaurant and other facilities. This was where vandals and cable thieves had done the most damage. The rooms bore clear signs that parties had taken place here over the years—none of which had done the building any favors.

Even so, we were still able to capture some truly striking images. At one point, however, our progress was abruptly halted: access to further parts of the complex was completely blocked and secured, which took us by surprise. With that, our exploration came to an end—aside from the sealed-off section, we had seen nearly everything.

On our way back to the car, we suddenly heard noises coming from behind the barricaded area—metallic, rhythmic, unmistakably the sound of tools. Apparently, someone was using that section as a workshop at the time—or perhaps metal thieves had sealed it off themselves to go about their “work” undisturbed.

Either way, we were glad we hadn’t tried to push further. We weren’t particularly eager for human contact out here.

And so, after a truly successful exploration, we made our way back to the Husky farm, where a well-earned, hearty dinner awaited us.

To find out more about the history and to check out all the photos from this place, click the button below.

Tour Report: Farmyard for Sale

The final spot we explored on our tour in November 2020 with our dear friend Biggi from Der Schlittenhundehof was an old, abandoned farmhouse located right in the middle of the village. It was easy to get onto the property - the construction fence was basically just leaning loosely against a wall, so we could just slip right through. We hurried into the buildings so that no one would see us wandering around the yard. The doors to the buildings were all open, and there wasn’t much to see. Some of the ceilings had already collapsed or were on the verge of doing so; the same was true of some of the walls. On top of that, it was slowly getting dark, so despite our flashlights, we couldn’t properly assess the condition of the floors. So we stayed in the rooms that seemed reasonably safe - even though the old wood creaked and cracked in every nook and cranny.

The rooms were completely empty - but we did find a few relics left behind by former residents.

In the end, they were just a few small items, but even these were fragments of a life and tell stories about it - such as the correspondence between Edeltraud and Erna, two young girls, friends who had apparently been separated by the division of Germany.

To find out more about the history and to check out all the photos from this place, click the button below.

Tour Report: Tunnels into the Mountain

After visiting the former children’s sanatorium together with our friend Biggi from Der Schlittenhundehof, we decided to check out a few sights around the town. This time, it wasn’t about abandoned places - just a relaxed walk to wind down after our exploration.

Later, we drove to a small parking area just outside town, located near a hiking trail. We had chosen this spot for a cozy coffee break. Just before turning into the parking lot, we noticed an opening in the hillside on the right side of the road. We couldn’t make out much, but it looked intriguing enough to spark our curiosity immediately.

Right next to the parking area, there was another tunnel entrance - this one sealed off with a heavy metal door and a padlock. Still, it added to the sense that there was more to this place than met the eye.

But first - coffee.

We set up our small camping chairs and table. When I make coffee on the road, I always use my Petromax percolator on a compact gas burner. It takes a bit longer, but that’s part of the charm - we weren’t in a hurry. As we sat there, sipping hot coffee on a gloomy November day, just above freezing and with a light drizzle in the air, a few passersby gave us puzzled looks. Three people casually having coffee on a parking lot in that kind of weather isn’t exactly an everyday sight.

While waiting for the coffee to brew, I took a closer look at the sealed tunnel entrance. There was no obvious way to open the door, but peeking through, I could catch a glimpse of the tunnel behind it. It looked promising - but inaccessible.

So our attention returned to the entrance we had spotted from the road.

After finishing our break, we set off on the short walk. As it turned out, this tunnel was open. At some point in the past, a brick wall had been constructed just behind the entrance to prevent unauthorized access - but it had long since been breached, allowing us to enter.

Inside, we found two somewhat larger chambers, clearly carved into the mountain by human hands. At the time of our visit, we had no idea what these tunnels had originally been used for. Mining? Air-raid shelter? Something else entirely?

Unfortunately, the items we found offered little clarity. Scattered boots, wooden posts, tools, and fragments of porcelain raised more questions than answers. There was no way of knowing who had brought them here, when, or for what purpose. Some objects suggested possible military or civil defense use, but we couldn’t confirm any of it.

From a photographic perspective, the site wasn’t particularly rewarding either. Dark, mostly featureless walls don’t offer much visual appeal. On top of that, we had only brought our “small” flashlights - after all, a cave exploration hadn’t been part of the plan.

In the end, it was an exciting little exploration, even if it didn’t reveal much about the tunnels’ history. That would only come more than two years later, when we returned to the area and discovered additional tunnels…

To find out more about the history and to check out all the photos from this place, click the button below.