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The building seemed to sag against the Trenton sky, its walls leaning in a way that looked both tired and dangerous. I was driving, searching for a lunch spot after a morning spent exploring the city's industrial skeletons, when I saw it. A questionable choice, maybe, but curiosity is a powerful guide. I pulled over. Getting inside was one of the sketchiest entrances I’ve ever attempted. But once my feet were on the dusty floor, the danger faded. An enormous space stretched before me. It was sparse, cleaned out. My footsteps echoed where a stage once stood, a fact I’d later confirm in a NNKH YouTube video about the building’s past life as an underground punk club. The video showed a vibrant scene, an electric place. But the ghosts of that life were mostly gone. The long, rounded bar, where thousands of hands must have slapped down crumpled bills, had vanished. The dust-coated wine and shot glasses that once lined its shelves were gone, too. The club’s glittering crown jewel, a l...
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Abandoned Caribbean Island House
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Outside view.
It was a balmy morning on my two-week vacation on the Caribbean island. Just that morning, I took my early morning walk before the sun peeped its head over the clouds. During our circular route around the neighboring countryside village from where I was staying. We came upon a small narrow path delineated by the countless footsteps of many people who used this shortcut to get back over on the other side then going around the main road. Walking this well-beaten path we came upon a small gaping limestone cave. The small cave didn't go any deeper than maybe 10 feet. A pile of dead plant matter, household garbage, and abandoned bird nests were all that was on offer from this discovery. If I wanted deep cave exploration I would have headed to the tourist limestone cave tour the island is known for on the southwest of the island.
A very small cave.
We continued onward to our accommodation. After refueling myself with a hearty breakfast. I packed my camera gear and headed back out to the beaten path once more to poke around some more. On another path through the thicket of bushes, young tree saplings, and knee-high grass, I came upon a small abandoned board house tucked away inside the small area of overgrown foliage between neighboring houses and the main side road. No evidence of human usage was apparent around the outside. The hoard house was surrounded and entwined with small trees and saplings. Nature had taken its course with this derelict house.
Inside the house, the roof from the view of the front room had already caved in a long time ago. The floor in certain parts had caved into itself to the ground. One part of the boarding house was entirely covered by what looked like walnut husks and the other side had what remained to be a box spring bed sans mattress bedding. Further back inside the house was unreachable due to the aforementioned collapsed roof and absentee flooring. Guessing by the remaining structure of the house, the house give or take may have been there for more than 10 years. No apparent evidence of termites or extreme wood rot in sight, I would say the house was constructed with hardy wood like mahogany. Although the climate is sustained yearly with 80-degree weather with a few months out of the year starting in October for the rain and hurricane season. The house was surprisingly in fair condition.
Living room.
No more bedroom here.
The direction to the kitchen/bathroom.
Satisfied with my discovery and pictures. I headed further out from the house until I came out into a clearing studded with the back views of wall houses in the distance. There will be no more abandoned spots in this area. With that dilemma, I headed back home before I drowned in my own sweat with the rising sun and the mercury-raising temperatures climbed even higher.
Side view.
P.S. Before heading to this island, I researched abandoned properties but to my dismay, Google Street does not exist in the countryside or the city. In addition, Google Maps' clunky what's here feature was useless for map coordinates when Google Maps was a nonexistent map tool for further exploration. I found other areas of interest sweeping the island using Google satellite images but getting there was an issue since I did not have relevant information on locale or addresses. Island villages are way different than small towns or cities in the USA.
You’ve got to move when the chance is right. That’s something I keep telling myself—but just as often, I forget it. Or ignore it. And then I end up learning the same lesson all over again. It happened on a quiet afternoon when I pulled up to the old Horsman Doll factory. The place has long been abandoned, but it still holds stories—ones I try to capture through my lens. The main gate was slightly ajar. Not wide open, but just enough for me to slip through with my gear. It was one of those rare opportunities. But across the street, half-hidden behind a rundown house, a group of men sat drinking and shouting over each other. The kind of scene you don't want to get caught up in—especially alone, carrying expensive camera equipment. I hesitated. I debated. I bailed. My gut told me to walk away, so I did. I figured I could find another way in. I circled the block, hoping for a back entrance or even a broken window low enough to climb through. I found one window that looked possible—bu...
The building seemed to sag against the Trenton sky, its walls leaning in a way that looked both tired and dangerous. I was driving, searching for a lunch spot after a morning spent exploring the city's industrial skeletons, when I saw it. A questionable choice, maybe, but curiosity is a powerful guide. I pulled over. Getting inside was one of the sketchiest entrances I’ve ever attempted. But once my feet were on the dusty floor, the danger faded. An enormous space stretched before me. It was sparse, cleaned out. My footsteps echoed where a stage once stood, a fact I’d later confirm in a NNKH YouTube video about the building’s past life as an underground punk club. The video showed a vibrant scene, an electric place. But the ghosts of that life were mostly gone. The long, rounded bar, where thousands of hands must have slapped down crumpled bills, had vanished. The dust-coated wine and shot glasses that once lined its shelves were gone, too. The club’s glittering crown jewel, a l...
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