A bottle of wine stuffed in our panniers and 55 miles under our belts on a chilly day of biking up and down hills Josh and I were ready to call it a night early and find camping. We had visions of sitting by a fire in the cold evening air with the sun burning it’s way through the trees of our secluded campsite hidden from the rest of the world while sipping wine until the sun went down and we’d crawl into our warm sleeping bags until we finally rested our eyes. A nice downhill while looking for a place to sleep means no peddling and we could focus on the task at hand. Popping into little openings through the trees only to find it was too overgrown or had too many thorn bushes. Lucky for us there were plenty of options. We did this for 20 minutes; exploring little nooks only to be denied because of our own specifications until we saw it.
In giant letters on the side of a moldy wall this caught our interest. If not to stay the night at that particular moment, then to at least explore what we thought would be a rat infested drug den with a nice view. As we rounded the corner of the wrap around balcony overgrown with vines and weeds we could see that something was strange about this place. It continued on multiple floors with broken windows, strange graffiti in Spanish written on some of the walls and decay everywhere. With every corner we turned through this vast world of unknown and mystery a heavy creepier feeling began growing inside. Dark stair cases leading to cemented off rooms. “Why was that room cemented.. what happened here?!..” more decay and dark hallways with a cold air that no man should ever venture. The pool outside surrounded by tall evergreen trees was filled halfway to the top with rainwater which had turned green and stained the sides of the pool walls as well. Back inside, retracing our steps, we made our way into what must have at one point been the resteraunt but at this moment with all its amenities removed and giant panoramic windows destroyed and broken it became our balcony overlooking the modest town below and the misty mountains in the distance. As the sun began to die and the sky turned a sort of red hue our attention was grabbed by the old white curtain in one of the windows blowing in the wind resembling a person in a white dress. Out in the open, dark hallways behind us, strange cemented rooms to our right, and slightly to our left were red hand prints dripping on the walls we opened up our bottle of wine.
“Yea, we’ll sleep here tonight”