Any ordinary hike turns into a discovery when our urban explorer instincts sniff out the site. I am with Simone, a veteran of the Stalker group since its inception.
The sun is setting quickly, but we cannot leave this unknown behind. After convincing a reluctant Simone, we reach the back of the building and climb a metal ladder that looks like an emergency exit. An iron door, with glass broken in half, opens onto a dark corridor.
First steps in silence
The first room is almost empty: a stereo system, a television, a safe, a model castle and, to my great disappointment, a stuffed bird of prey. A little further on, near some bath slippers, a lifeless sparrow. Voices silenced in even deeper abandonment.
Other stairs lead us to the ground floor. Rooms scattered with relics: kumade lucky charms for prosperity, rolled-up kakejiku, Tibetan bells, a butsudan dedicated to Buddha and ancestors. Dusty televisions and tables complete the picture.
Chaos at reception
The entrance and reception area emerge from the disorder, as if after a hurricane. Two red Daruma, traditional votive dolls without limbs, symbols of perseverance inspired by the monk Bodhidharma, stand out among the dust. Popular lucky charms since the 17th century, one eye is coloured for a wish; the other, when it comes true. Here, they seem to await an impossible redemption.
In the corner, an intact piano. Next to it, in a display case, another bird of prey; below, ceramic goats; above, maneki-neko and a metronome. There is also a tanuki and a pheasant, sadly stuffed, grinning under the torchlight, with guest slippers on their feet. Tourist brochures – Kamikōchi, Tateyama Kurobe, Utsukushigahara Highlands – evoke excursions long gone.
Ghost kitchen and onsen
Winding corridors lead to a kitchen that looks like a clandestine laboratory: ampoules, tubes and test tubes everywhere, packages intact but expired years ago. Tools left to decay, inexplicably.
Finally, the onsen: dried-up thermal baths, damp with debris. The hot water is a memory, swallowed up by time.
This ryokan is not just rubble: it is a secular altar of interrupted hopes, where amulets and still lifes whisper stories of missed redemption.
Urbex location:
