It was almost 9pm, and that is the magical time after which alcohol may no longer be sold in stores. Despite having a great day of exploration with several new locations, I was tired and soaking wet. It was so wet and dark, that I had absolutely no hope of photographing anything more that night. I decided to find a spot to camp and get drunk.
At the local store the cashier was chatting with a customer she apparently knew. I chimed in, which attracted their attention, as both immediately realized, that I wasn’t local. We spent the next 15 minutes discussing abandoned buildings nearby. As everybody was thirsty, there was quite a line forming behind me. But everybody got their beer that night right after the cashier had asked her last question:
“Has it ever happened, that you’ve accidentally photographed in a former childhood home of somebody you knew?” she asked.
“Never”, I said before heading westwards.
And despite the rain, I did take a couple of more photographs that night.
This former petrol station first appears on old maps from 1975, so it’s probably from the late 1960’s or early 1970’s. According to quite a mess of information from a Finnish petrol station hobbyist group, the station first wore Union colors becoming a Teboil in the early 1990’s and finally a Shell in the late 1990’s before shutting up shop. After that another business used it, but use ended in the 2010’s.
The fuel pumps have been removed. They reveal no clues about the brand of the station.
Log cabins for sale. Quite something.
95E from this lane.
I couldn’t see too deep inside, but that looks more like a living room than a petrol station.
Some of the windows were broken and covered.
The back of the maintenance hall.
And a view inside. There was no point of entry here, so I drove to a nearby ferry harbor, took the crossing to the other side of the lake in an awful storm, set camp in the harbor on the other side and opened a beer.
In between leaving the store and stopping for the night I had gotten two new followers on Instagram: the cashier and the local lady. I had even received a comment from the cashier on my story from the old insdustrial village.
“I used to live there as a child.”