Somewhere in the east lies a small town, which was born and grew because of the forest industry. After decades of layoffs, closing production lines and factories, it has started to shink in size. This of course means lots of abandoned buildings, if only you know where to find them.
This cute little cottage didn’t look abandoned at first. The only telling thing was, that even in late May last autumn’s leaves were still on the ground. I was doubtful at first, but my friend was certain that it was abandoned and that we’d gain access. I didn’t believe her.
But turned out she was right. The door looked closed, there was even an extra lock. But someone had cut the bolt.
So in we went. The downstairs looked like someone had initiated a cleaning operation. There was very little to none furniture and some cleaning equipment.
Some artistic hero had broken in and left their mark on the walls.
Although there were radiators in the building, they were unplugged. Either the fallen off paint of the owen is a result of winter frost or vandals.
A look back towards the kitchen. I assumed that this was the living room, but there were cupboards and closets here too.
And another look from the kitchen towards the entrance. The last renovations were probably from the 1970’s.
As there was nothing downstairs, it wasn’t really that interesting. But it looked as if the cleaners had sort of skipped the upstairs.
In the stairway there was a bookshelf to the right and a clothes rack straight up ahead.
Some books. The inhabitants had been really big fans of Kari Aronpuro, someone I have never heard of. Usually abandoned buildings contain a lot of books by Arto Paasilinna, Kalle Päätalo and Laila Hietamies. Perhaps they are the favorites of ghosts.
There were a lot of high school books in the building. My guess is that at least one child had grown up here, although the house was small.
The upstairs featured a small lobby. The reindeer fur is a strange find here, as we are nowhere near reindeer husbandry areas.
There was just one bedroom upstairs. Although someone had gone through all closets and drawers, things were largely untouched.
That can of beer certainly didn’t belong to the inhabitants.
Another view from the same spot reveals a set of postcards on the wall.
A very old poster of the company producing pulp and paper in the area. Kymi became Kymi-Strömberg in 1983 and Kymmene in 1986. Nowadays it’s called UPM-Kymmene or just UPM.
The postcars were mainly from Venice and were blank on the other side. So if the inhabitants didn’t have a good friend who often visited Italy, they had brought the cards home to use them for decoration.
So much for this house then. But most importantly I had broken the strange barrier, which prevented me from entering abandonments.