House doesn't always win
Marvellous Abandoned Casino
We crossed a red string, which wouldn’t hold anyone entering the place, but it marked our success. We were here, in a building which we had seen so many times in famous photographs. It was one of those places you felt that couldn’t be real in any sense. It was a place ‘out there’ somewhere, untouchable and unreachable until we stepped over that tiny string.
Inside the air wasn't good, it even might have been toxic. We sensed movement immediately all around us and understood that the place was filled with pigeons. The floors, the ceilings, everything was covered in bird droppings. It felt unearthly walking the staircase of this crown jewel of the cultural high-life, a magnificent piece of architecture and breathing in the pigeon infested fumes. They sat on the mammoth lamps like audience waiting for the show to begin. The lamps reflected the golden morning sunlight coming from the large windows, like the day was holy, revealing the details, small ornaments made with craftsmanship unknown to us.
Staircase led to the second floor. We could get lost on the height of the rooms. Doors were covered with glass art giving out clues of the time when the place was brand new. Over a hundred years ago. Time had been lost, but the elegance was still gripping to the reality in which we were merely passengers. We entered the grand hall only to find the most lonely room in the country. The dimension were vast, but life, joy and feeling was gone. The red curtain at the end of the room had been collecting dust for decades. The stage had lost hope of having an orchestra playing one more tune. Only a hollow whisper remained of memories from dice rolling and card calling. The place must had been a sight. A room where you could feel that you were special.
We circled inside the casino and found rooms that bathed in last rays of summer sun. Soon, the autumn wind would take away the colours around the overly mediocre park in which the building stood. We came just at the right time. Not too soon, not too late. After a couple of hours we could taste that it was time to leave, our lungs didn’t feel so great. The pigeons, the dukes of this castle watched silently when we packed our gear and began our exit. What we saw during our stay, didn't feel right, although it looked strangely glorious.
K / 20.10.2017