The Monastery of Mold

The second abandoned spot we explored on the fifth day of our 2020 summer vacation had a history stretching back more than a century. The red brick building was originally constructed in the early 1900s as a monastery. During World War II, it was seized and converted into a military hospital. After the war, it became a care facility for elderly and sick residents of the region - while the missionary teaching activities were resumed at the same time. Among others, a certain Joseph Ratzinger - later Pope Benedict XVI - taught here in the mid-1960s.

By the end of that decade, the seminary was closed, and the former monastery was repurposed as a home for difficult-to-raise children. Its final use was as a rehabilitation clinic, which shut down operations in 2009.

We had no real idea what to expect - but the journey alone was worth it. From our first location, we drove over a lake and passed through a landscape of forests, meadows, and fields, all glowing in perfect summer weather.

There were, of course, no parking spots to be found. And rolling right up to the entrance was out of the question. So we went with the obvious solution: we parked next to a glass recycling container by the roadside and walked up along the former access road.

The impressive building was surrounded by a construction fence - although someone had conveniently left several garage-door-sized gaps at the back, making access ridiculously easy. We quickly found an open door and began our exploration.

Years of abandonment had taken their toll. Alongside the usual vandalism and stripped cables, there had been a fire in the attic not too long before our visit. The traces of firefighting efforts were still visible throughout the upper floors.

But honestly? Without those water-damaged walls and layers of decay, there would have been far fewer photo opportunities. The fire and subsequent dampness had supercharged the deterioration, turning once plain walls into beautiful canvases of crumbling plaster and vibrant green hues. I have to admit — without that touch of ruin, the place would have been only half as charming.

The attic offered some great shots as well, though moving around up there required extreme caution. The floorboards were already giving way in places, making every step feel like a gamble.

Since the building had been used solely as a clinic for many decades, nothing in the interior hinted at its original purpose anymore - but in its architecture, the sacred past was still unmistakable.

After thoroughly exploring the place, we decided to head back. That’s when we spotted two figures walking along the rear side of the building. For a brief moment, our hearts skipped a beat - but it turned out to be an elderly couple. They had settled down on a bench right next to our “entrance.”

As we left, we greeted them and asked if they were from the area. That sparked a lovely conversation. The old lady told us she had worked at the clinic as a kitchen assistant for decades. Now, she and her husband came back at least once a week to relive their memories. They were saddened by the state of the building - but they understood why we were taking photos.

It was a genuinely heartwarming exchange and the perfect ending to our visit. Conversations with people who lived through a place’s history always add that extra layer of meaning.

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

Tour Report: Villa of the Sleeping Piano

On the fourth day of our 2020 summer vacation, we were still traveling around western Germany. However, we left the Ruhr region behind to visit the two locations we had planned for the day and drove a little further east.

Our first stop was a stately villa with a thatched roof. The well-known motif - the “sleeping piano” - was something I really wanted to photograph, and it wasn't far from our accommodation.

By researching on Google Maps, we were able to get an idea of the local conditions in advance. There was a public parking lot nearby, and there were also parking spaces a little further down the road - after all, it was summer vacation, and you have to expect a corresponding influx of tourists.

We arrived late in the morning and did indeed have to park on the street - it was a beautiful sunny day, and many people were out and about. The nearby lake was full of small sailing and rowing boats, and the RV park also seemed to be well frequented.

We could well imagine how the residents of the elevated villa used to watch the colorful hustle and bustle on and around the lake from a large living room window or from the garden. During our visit, however, we couldn't even see the villa - the vegetation had grown so thick. Of course, this gave us the advantage of being able to move around the grounds unseen after we had quickly hopped over the fence.

We found an open door just as quickly as we were disappointed when we entered the house. The vandals - presumably local teenagers and children of tourists - had really smashed most of it to pieces, so there weren't really many worthwhile motifs left. Fortunately, the piano was still in its old place. Although it had not been spared by the vandals, it had been repeatedly reassembled by photographers.

On the upper floor, we found a few more rooms where holes in the roof and damp had caused some deterioration, but overall, with the exception of the piano, the visit was relatively disappointing.

On the upper floor, we found a few more rooms where holes in the roof and damp had caused some deterioration, but overall, with the exception of the piano, the visit was relatively disappointing.

So after about an hour and a half, we made our way to the next location.

To check out all the photos from this place, click the button below.

Tour Report: Colliery H.

It was a real stroke of luck that we were able to visit the fourth location on our 2020 summer vacation. The coal mine had been closed for ten years, and initial measures to develop the site had been underway for several years, which is why it was heavily patrolled by security guards who did not hesitate to rigorously report any unauthorized entry onto the site.

My cousin and his wife, whom we visited at the beginning of our vacation, have a very good network in the city, and we had already asked in advance if there was any possibility of visiting the coal mine and taking photos.

Unfortunately, all requests were denied. So, on our last morning, we set out to see another location.

Then the call came. My cousin said, “You can go there NOW!”

So we contacted our friend Lost Dreams who had also shown great interest in the coal mine and set off immediately.

About half an hour later, we were standing in front of the gate and were greeted by a lady from the development company. We had to sign a few documents to ensure that everything—including the publication of the photos afterwards—was in order.

Unfortunately, we were not allowed to visit the technical facilities because the halls had not yet been secured (the ceilings were starting to collapse) and therefore these areas had not yet been approved by the mining authority.

But just being able to explore this place (as far as we were allowed) at our leisure, without any stress or risk of getting caught, was a real experience for us.

First, we took a look at the washrooms and the dry house. There, the miners' clothes were placed in baskets attached to chains and hoisted up to the ceiling. The higher temperature under the roof allowed the mostly damp clothes to dry better.

The sheer size of the rooms and the hundreds of chains and baskets make these areas an experience in themselves. So we took our time before setting off to explore the adjacent areas. There we found mountings for the miners' pit lamps – unfortunately without the lamps themselves.

Finally, we had the opportunity to view the representative administration building with the payroll hall.

The architecture, size, and ornate decorations and windows reflect the prosperity that mining has brought to corporations and regions.

At the end of our exploration, we took a quick selfie and left this fantastic place with a wealth of wonderful impressions.

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

Tour Report: Railway Tunnel T.

After our visit to the car sculpture park, we wanted to check out another location with my cousin Peter. We decided on a disused railway tunnel, as it wasn't too far away and we assumed it would be easy to reach.

First of all, it wasn't that easy to find a parking spot, because the path to the tunnel entrance, which was supposed to be “easy” to reach, is located in the middle of a residential area. So the walk was a bit longer than expected—and there was no direct path to the tunnel, so we had to walk quite a distance along the former railroad tracks.

This wouldn't normally have been a problem, but unfortunately the route had turned into a veritable jungle of nettles, some of which were as tall as a man. There was no beaten path or anything similar – we had to walk right through the middle of it.

At some point, I extended the legs of my tripod and swung them around in front of me to “clear” a path, so to speak. That worked quite well, so Peter grabbed a long, sturdy branch and swung it energetically to clear a path as well.

Soon we saw the tunnel entrance in the distance. We could see that the opening was sealed with large wooden panels—but there was a small opening in the form of a door.

We were excited that we would probably have the opportunity to explore the tunnel from the inside.

But no such luck—just a meter behind the wooden wall, a solid steel grate blocked the tunnel.

Since there was only a small door, there was no real source of light, and the light from our flashlights was lost in the darkness. Taking pictures from the inside was therefore completely pointless.

All that remained of this trip were the pictures from outside and the fond memories of our battle with an army of nettles.

To find out more about the history of this place, click the button below.

Tour Report: The Park of Car Sculptures

The second location we visited during our summer vacation in 2020 was the well-known “Car Sculpture Park” in Neandertal near Düsseldorf.

This is not an abandoned place, but a legally accessible open-air "museum" where a somewhat eccentric car dealer has been letting fifty classic cars from 1950 rot away since 2000.

We visited the place together with my cousin, who kindly let us stay at his house for the first few days of our vacation. Peter is very interested in our hobby and not only accompanied us to Neandertal during our stay, but also to another location—more on that in the next post.

The car sculpture park is located directly opposite the Neanderthal Museum, which usually makes it difficult to find a parking space. Fortunately, we arrived quite early in the day, so we were able to snag a parking space right next to the park entrance.

We paid the admission fees, which are graded according to whether you just want to look around, take photos with your cell phone, or take pictures with a “real” camera.

The 20,000-square-meter site offered a wealth of motifs from the world of luxury cars, so to speak:

A stretch of steep racing track on which historic Jaguars and Porsches compete in one last eternal race. A remnant of the Soviet world power, a Moskovich built in 1950, symbolizes half-buried the demise of its country.

A piece of the Berlin Wall, with the original graffiti - and in East and West an army car of the two worlds from 1950 decaying in the face of time. An 11 CV, the gangster limousine that belonged to a French police chief for decades. Some cars have been entwined by tree roots, others have been cut in half as trees have grown through them.

Unfortunately, the grounds filled up very quickly with people (it was a Sunday), making it difficult to take pictures without people in them, but with a little patience, it was possible to capture most of the subjects in peace.

The museum is only open for three hours—with more time, I'm sure I could have photographed even more perspectives. But even so, it was a great experience, and I can well imagine visiting this place again sometime to see how the cars have changed since our visit.

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

Tour Report: Farmhouse "Oblivion"

Our very first stop on our summer trip in 2020 turned into an unforgettable Lost Place adventure. Long before we set out, we were warned: reaching this abandoned farmhouse hidden deep in the countryside would not be easy. But for us, that made the challenge even more exciting.

We had already seen photos online – a nearly untouched farmhouse, still fully furnished, marked by time and decay, yet full of charm and forgotten stories. The building lies quietly off a small road, almost invisible to passersby. But the driveway is right next to that of an inhabited farm, and the neighbors are known to keep a sharp eye on strangers. That meant only one option: approaching the farmhouse unseen, from the back.

So we parked at a safe distance and grabbed our gear. No sooner had we left the car than the summer sky opened and a heavy rain poured down. “It will pass quickly,” we told ourselves, and pressed on toward the woods. The forest promised cover from curious eyes – but it also held its own danger: a moor.

And soon enough we realized why we had been warned. The ground was soft and deceptive, and one wrong step could mean soaked clothes and muddy shoes. Luckily, a friend had shown us a rough path across the boggy terrain. Even so, every step felt tense, and the thrill of urban exploration began long before we reached the building.

When the farmhouse finally appeared before us, our hearts raced with anticipation. The entrance was quickly found: an open window leading into the laundry room. One last glance behind us – then we climbed inside, stepping into another time.

The sight that met us was breathtaking. Hardly any vandalism, no graffiti – instead, authentic decay. Antique furniture, some dating back to the 18th century, stood quietly in place. The kitchen felt as if someone had just left, while the living and dining room, with its old piano, exuded an eerie beauty. Next door, the study told a different story – thick layers of mold covered books and furniture, creating an unsettling but fascinating atmosphere.

The upper floor held little of interest, and sadly, time did not allow us to explore the barn. Our next stop and a warm dinner were still waiting. But this first abandoned farmhouse of our summer trip captured our imagination completely. It was more than just a stop – it was a reminder of why we love exploring abandoned places: the thrill of discovery, the beauty of decay, and the stories hidden in forgotten walls.

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