This is the third summer in a row I am standing on this yard. The first time I couldn’t get in, the second time I accessed the upstairs but not the downstairs.
I’m back to finish my mission.
The door was open the previous year, too. But there was another locked door right after it.
But not anymore.
Another badly suffered kitchen.
At least somebody has attempted to prevent unauthorized visitors at some point. Wasn’t working.
Those are not Russian products. They are real Soviet era stuff.
Old magazines addressed to a person living some 250 kilometers away.
Pipes & paint.
Same kitchen, another view.
Tabloids from 1989.
A former bedroom.
Lovely old furniture.
Less lovely, newer furniture.
Another room in a very bad condition.
Probably the former living room. This still is one of the most beautiful locations I’ve ever explored.
There was a second apartment in the other end of the downstairs of the building. Its doors are locked and the porch and stairs have collapsed.
I’ve given up hope of ever managing to get inside. I consider myself done with this location.