Tour Report: The House of Bric-a-Brac

Hidden behind tall trees on an overgrown property, bordered by a quiet country road on one side and a golf course on the other, stood an abandoned thatched-roof house waiting to be explored.

On a chilly Sunday in February 2021, my mother joined us as we set out to visit this forgotten place. I had seen a few photographs beforehand and hoped to capture some of the countless details that seemed to fill the house.

After about an hour's drive, we reached the area and began looking for a place to park. Leaving our car in the golf club's parking lot didn't seem like the best idea - it tends to attract attention when you unload backpacks, tripods and safety boots instead of golf clubs before walking off in the opposite direction.

Fortunately, we found a small lay-by further down the road, allowing us to approach the property without drawing too much attention.

Getting inside turned out to be easier than expected. An open garden gate led onto the grounds, and the patio door of the house stood wide open.

Inside, the house presented a chaotic but fascinating scene. The former owner had clearly travelled extensively and seemed to have filled every room with souvenirs collected over many years. These were exactly the kind of details I had hoped to photograph. Unfortunately, previous visitors had already removed many of the most interesting items - and, perhaps even worse, had left everything in complete disarray. Judging by the empty bottles and other traces, the inevitable party crowd had also discovered the house long before we arrived.

Even so, there was still plenty to discover. According to local rumours, the entire house had been built almost entirely by its owner, a skilled craftsman. Whether or not the story is entirely true, the quality of the workmanship certainly supported it. Every room reflected remarkable dedication and attention to detail. The fireplace, the small bar, the staircase leading upstairs, the handcrafted shelving and the wood-panelled walls all suggested that someone had invested countless hours into creating a home that was both practical and deeply personal.

The upper floor contained piles of clothing along with a number of personal documents. Most revealed little about the former occupants, although a few provided brief glimpses into their lives. Among the papers were official documents dating back several decades, including records that reflected the turbulent political history of post-war Germany. Together with family papers and photographs, they offered fleeting glimpses into the lives of the people who had once called this place home - without ever revealing the full story.

A short distance from the main building stood a second structure that felt almost like a small house of its own. It contained a compact kitchen, sleeping quarters and a surprisingly spacious workshop. My guess is that it once served as a guest house, a hobby room or simply a private retreat - a place where its owner could spend time working on projects or enjoying a quiet evening.

We spent around ninety minutes exploring the property and came away with a collection of photographs that captured both its craftsmanship and its gradual decline.

Looking back, I sometimes regret being too hesitant to examine the personal belongings left behind. There is a significant difference between browsing production records in an abandoned factory and opening family photo albums or reading private letters and documents inside someone's former home. It feels far more personal—almost intrusive. Yet it is often those forgotten papers that preserve the final fragments of a place's history. Without them, many stories are simply lost forever.

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Tour Report: Farmhouse "Calendar"

After exploring the forester's cottage, we returned to our cars and headed for our next destination: an old abandoned farmhouse on the very edge of a small rural settlement.

About 30 minutes later, we arrived and parked roughly 100 metres away near a former railway crossing. Judging by its condition, no train had passed through there for a very long time.

The abandoned farm was neither fenced nor otherwise secured, allowing us to enter the property without any difficulty. Shortly after arriving, we met two young women who had apparently come up with the same idea. During a brief conversation, we learned that they had already finished exploring the site. They also admitted they were a little proud to run into an urban explorer who was fairly well known within the scene.

After saying goodbye, we began our own exploration, starting with the outbuildings along the roadside. Whether they had served purely as garages and storage buildings or had once been used for other purposes was impossible to determine. What we did find, however, was an astonishing amount of clutter. Containers, bicycles, old shoes, radios, and even trophies from dog shows were scattered throughout the buildings.

We then turned our attention to the farmhouse itself, where the amount of abandoned belongings was even greater. Piles of old newspapers, countless calendars, clothing, and household items lay everywhere. Much of the furniture had been overturned, and it was obvious that someone had searched through the cupboards and drawers in the hope of finding valuables.

The resulting chaos meant that there were hardly any worthwhile photographic subjects left inside the house. Far more interesting were the numerous magazines, documents, and working records related to cattle breeding. Among them were several issues of the magazine Rind im Bild and even a cattle insemination record from 1989. These discoveries strongly suggested that the former owner had been a cattle farmer and that the farm was still in active agricultural use at least until the late 1980s.

A visit to the barn reinforced that impression. We found the typical drinking bowls used for cattle, while an adjoining building still housed a machine for mixing animal feed.

Part of the barn had been filled with large quantities of cut firewood, alongside a few pieces of old furniture, including worn armchairs. Whether the wood had already been stored there by the farmer remains unclear. By the time it was stacked inside, however, the building could no longer have been used to house livestock. It is therefore equally possible that a later owner or occupant had simply converted part of the barn into a wood store.

Unfortunately, we were unable to uncover any reliable information about the history of the farm, so any conclusions beyond these observations would be purely speculative.

With our exploration of the abandoned farmhouse coming to an end, so did our day of urban exploring. We returned to our cars and began the journey home - unaware that just a month later, the farmhouse would be destroyed by fire.

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

Tour Report: The Forest Ranger's Cottage

A week after our visit to the abandoned brickworks, we found ourselves heading out again on a sunny Sunday in February 2021. The snow had finally melted, temperatures had climbed back above freezing, and it was simply too nice a day to stay indoors.

At the time, Germany was still in the midst of its second strict COVID-19 lockdown, which had already been in place for almost two months. Travel restrictions meant we were not allowed to leave our federal state, so I started looking for abandoned places closer to home that we hadn't explored yet. Eventually, I came across two promising locations: a small cottage in the middle of a quiet village and a much larger farmhouse with a barn and several outbuildings.

The cottage turned out to be particularly interesting. During my research afterwards, I discovered that it had most likely been the home of the Holzvogt - the forester or woodland steward - of a nearby estate. Sitting right on the village's main road, however, parking anywhere near the property was out of the question.

Instead, we left our car in the parking lot of a temporarily closed restaurant on the edge of the village, where we met up with our good friend Elmar, who had travelled down from Hamburg. From there, we continued the rest of the way on foot.

The property itself wasn't fenced off and was easy to access, but unfortunately it had already become a dumping ground. In places like this, it's often difficult to tell which items actually belonged to the former occupants and which were discarded there long after the house had been abandoned.

Inside, the rooms were extremely cramped, so we took turns entering to give each other enough space to photograph the interior without getting in one another's way.

As expected, there were a few interesting details to discover, but the heavy clutter and the generally poor condition of the building meant that we only came away with a handful of worthwhile photographs.

Even so, it was a pleasant way to begin the day's exploration and, more importantly, a great opportunity to spend some time exploring with our good friend Elmar once again.

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Tour Report: Brick Factory P.

On our way home from Hotel Gutsmann, we still had a little time to spare, so we decided to make a short detour to the ruins of an old brickworks.

We had already visited the site back in 2013, but it's always fascinating to see what time and the elements have done to an abandoned building. The extra stop also gave us the perfect excuse for another walk through the snow-covered winter landscape.

About forty minutes later, we arrived and parked our car beside a vast, snow-white field. The deep blue sky, the untouched blanket of snow, and the crisp winter air created a truly beautiful atmosphere.

From our parking spot, it was only a short walk to the old brickworks - although by then, very little of it remained.

Even in 2013, the buildings had already been in a severely dilapidated state, which was hardly surprising 45 years after the fire that marked the end of the brickworks. Another eight years later, after well over half a century of abandonment, even less of the original structure has survived.

What did surprise me, however, was that the tall chimney was still standing after all those years, and that parts of the main building continued to withstand the relentless forces of nature.

The tree that had grown through the front bumper and radiator grille of a delivery van - left behind decades ago by a former furniture store from Lübeck - had grown even larger since our first visit. 

Scattered across the site were still countless remnants of old machinery, slowly being reclaimed by time. We spent a good forty-five minutes trudging through the snow, exploring every corner of the abandoned site before finally setting off for home - for real this time.

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

Tour Report: Estate House "Field of Reeds" [Revisit]

Just three weeks after our first visit, we found ourselves returning to the old manor house once again.
Our initial exploration on Boxing Day, accompanied by my mother and mother-in-law, had been a wonderful experience.

Unfortunately, I hadn't brought my camera with me and had to rely on my aging phone for photographs. Since we still had a few weeks between our trips in early January and our planned holiday in mid-February, we decided to squeeze in one more small adventure.

A second visit - especially so soon after the first - is usually a rather relaxed affair. The surroundings are already familiar, and there are fewer surprises waiting around the next corner. Instead of focusing on navigation and orientation, you can fully immerse yourself in the atmosphere of the location.

This return to the abandoned manor was no exception. From the moment we arrived, everything felt comfortably familiar. And because we already knew the layout of the building - and this time weren't accompanying any first-time visitors - we could take our time and focus entirely on photography.

The weather was noticeably better than during our first visit. The sun occasionally broke through the clouds, casting beautiful shadows across the rooms and hallways and creating some wonderful opportunities for photographs.

For more than an hour and a half, we wandered through the manor once again, exploring every floor and revisiting our favourite rooms. Eventually, with memory cards full and another memorable exploration behind us, we headed home.

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

Tour Report: Soviet Tropospheric Broadcasting Station L.

After thoroughly exploring the dusty brickworks - and making sure to stay out of the shepherd’s way - it was time to move on to the next location.

This site was one of several Soviet bunker complexes constructed during the Cold War near a former Third Reich air munitions facility. In addition to a large training ground, the area once contained various command bunkers, combat control positions, and several communications bunkers.

The structure we had chosen to explore was the site’s former tropospheric radio relay station.

As is often the case, we only had a rough idea of where exactly the bunker was located, or whether it would even still be accessible. We parked nearby and continued on foot toward the patch of forest where we suspected the complex to be hidden.

Before long, we realized we were in the right place: through the trees we spotted the ruined building that housed the entrance to the relay station.

At that exact moment, a black pickup truck drove past us and onto the property. An older man stepped out and began loading cut tree trunks onto the back of the vehicle. That immediately ruled out the standard approach to entering the site.

So we were left with three options: abandon the visit entirely, wait for him to leave — or simply walk over and ask.

We chose the third option.

The man turned out to be the owner of the property. He explained that the smaller section of the bunker complex - the crew bunker - had been sealed off as a bat habitat and was no longer accessible. However, he told us we were welcome to explore the communications bunker itself.

Simple enough.

We entered the decaying ruin, while the owner called after us that he still had an interesting story to tell once we came back out.

Inside the building, a staircase led down into the basement. One section looked like an ordinary brick cellar, while the other connected directly to the fortified relay station.

The bunker itself is relatively small. It consists of two prefabricated structures of the Soviet USB type and offers around 100 square meters of usable space. Given the remote location, the protection level was probably fairly modest by military standards.

What stood out most was the near-total absence of vandalism - the rooms were almost spotless - as well as the remarkably intact light barriers throughout the facility. These small plastic or rubber curtains were commonly used in bunkers instead of doors whenever full hermetic sealing was unnecessary, but light discipline between sections still had to be maintained.

After finishing our exploration of the bunker, the owner showed us something particularly unusual — a feature rarely encountered today.

In the cellar beneath the staircase, a small room had been separated off with a brick wall. You can see it on the second photo below. Between the top of the wall and the ceiling remained an opening barely 30 centimeters high. Rusted hinges on either side indicated that this gap had once been sealed with a barred hatch.

When the owner first took over the property, the tiny windowless room behind it still contained a metal bunk and a bucket.

It was, quite literally, a makeshift Soviet detention cell.

None of us had ever seen anything like it before, and it was difficult not to reflect on the conditions under which some Soviet soldiers must have served at sites like this.

On the way back to the car, we spent some time walking through the surrounding forest to see whether any remains of the former Soviet fuel depot could still be found. We had little success, though - apart from a few traces of the old roads, very little remained visible. Then again, perhaps we simply weren’t looking carefully enough.

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Tou Report: Brick Factory "Dusty Stuff"

After exploring only one location on New Year’s Day, we decided to slowly raise the bar and visit two spots the following day.

We had picked out an abandoned brick factory and a former Soviet communications bunker. The brickworks would be our first destination.

After a drive of a little over half an hour, we arrived at the site and started looking for a place to park. There were no nearby residential areas, no public parking spaces, and the village itself was some distance away, so we decided to simply leave the car on an unused field opposite the property.

The brickworks was not fenced off, and judging by the overgrown vegetation, nobody had been there in quite some time. The first building we came across was the former owner’s house. At the time of our visit, it was completely boarded up and securely locked, with no obvious way inside. We didn’t bother trying any further and moved on.

Next, we started exploring the factory buildings themselves - and what we found left us genuinely surprised. There was no vandalism, no graffiti, and hardly any signs of previous explorers. Instead, the site was still filled with countless small remnants of both business and private life. We found tools, booklets containing industrial production guidelines from the former GDR, medicine packaging, furniture, and even a few old machines. Many of the documents dated back to the 1950s.

Everything was covered in a thick layer of dust, which is why I later gave this place the nickname “Dusty Stuff.”

From a photography perspective, the location had a few nice highlights, though nothing particularly spectacular unless you were interested in digging through the many documents and details scattered throughout the buildings.

Still, we spent quite a while inside the old brickworks. Before leaving, we walked once more through the ring kiln, then made our way back to the car.

To our surprise, the shepherd had arrived in the meantime. He kept his sheep on a nearby field right next to where we had parked. As expected, he didn’t look particularly pleased to see us coming from the abandoned factory, though he didn’t say anything. We greeted him politely as always, and he simply grumbled a brief “Good day” in return. At least he didn’t start asking uncomfortable questions, so we quickly loaded our gear into the car and headed off toward the next location.

And there, another encounter was already waiting for us — but more on that later...

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