One day, photos from the children's sanatorium started appearing on Facebook groups. I immediately started looking for it and soon found it. To my disappointment, it was almost on the opposite side of the state, but it looked so pristine that we made the several-hour drive to explore it. And it was well worth the sitting in the car.
This could be kind of fun to take home and restore. But the rule is - no touching.
In case anyone hasn't noticed, there is a handwritten sign informing that the pool is out of order.
We managed to find our way in through the dining room almost immediately. Not only does it look untouched, it's looked untouched since 1970. I remember in the '90s, if the restaurant wasn't in a historic building, it looked exactly like this. I also remember the smell. Universal sauce and cigarette smoke. I suppose it might not have been as dominant in the sanatorium as it was elsewhere.
Seriously, I don't know if this was some explorer making fun or if they forgot the meal there when they closed down the hospital.
When I come to a place where there are plates, whether it's a sanatorium or an old porcelain factory, I'm always surprised when they're not all smashed. Maybe it's because we visited the place before it really became widely known.
The residential wing was extremely well preserved. The only vandalism was some wannabe obscene messages scratched on the inside of the wardrobe doors, left by the kids who were staying there.
Even the shitter was as good as new.
From the living quarters we reached the examination rooms. When I see this vintage medical equipment, I'm always reminded why I don't like doctors. Scattered toys and pretty colorful pictures can't change that.
I wonder if some former patients still have bad dreams about the red chair room.
I assume this was a common room, classroom and gym all in one.
There were several broken toys strewn about the room. Most of them I suppose arranged by previous visitors to look good in photos.
From the common area we descended the stairs to the basement. Here a few more examination rooms awaited us, and one very well preserved office. Looks like someone was still using 286 when the sanatorium was closed.
Other than that, the examination room in the basement was rather depressing. Either because of the fact that it was in the basement, or because of the illustrated instructions for attaching electrodes to a child that was on the bed.
At the end of the corridor was the door to the spa.
The spa ward was a very dark and drab space. Its just that something about sitting in a double tub in the grey-tiled basement with orderlies at my feet feels extremely stressful to me.
We left the building of the sanatorium and explored the surroundings. Not far was a residential building for staff and visitors. Except for glass fragments from a long-broken window, it was almost untouched. It contained a row of guest rooms like this one, with clean sheets ready next to the still made beds. Of course by clean I mean that they were, like ten years ago.
There was a common room just down the hall. Both the TV and the furniture looks very dated.
All buildings in the compoud are now completely stripped and badly damaged. According to local journalists, the owner has not commented on plans for the property's intended use.