Honeymoon Havoc!

I stole the title of this post from some terrible graffiti on property. “Hot Mess Hotel” was runner up.

Once upon a time, this resort was apparently a hopping spot for Northeastern newlyweds on a budget. Not everyone can afford to honeymoon in Hawaii or Europe, so many came here instead. They really hammered the honeymoon theme home with heart-shaped jacuzzis, round beds, mirrored ceilings, and an assortment of other cheesy lovers’ paradise decor. Crazy enough, similar resorts still exist and operate in the area today.

Here was not so fortunate. Financial crisis and poor management led to a swift decline in its last few years of operation, which came to a screeching halt in 2009. Employees weren’t getting paid. Repairs and updates were nonexistant. Folks who paid $300 per night were checking in, only to check out minutes later, disgusted. Their reviews are still online! The place was thought abandoned by many before it ever even officially boarded its doors, and for the past seven sad years, it has rotted — an eyesore in the middle of a quaint small town.

At only seven years old, this is one of the younger abandonments I’ve photographed. But, it is also the most trashed. I knew going into it that it would be a mess, but the scope of how bad didn’t hit me until I was standing there dumbstruck. A lot of photographers consider this place a lost cause at this point, and it’s obvious why. Pictures from even a year ago are unrecognizable as the same spot. Thieves, vandals, and a-holes have utterly destroyed it in record time. It’s heartbreaking. It’s infuriating. I get why the locals want it gone.

But I’m always up for a challenge, and here the challenge is obvious; find remnants of beauty left in the garbage. I met some talented photog friends here (Michele, Dennis, and Robert), and we gave it our best shot.

I headed for the cabins first, which are dotted along a (rather steep and rocky) hillside with no easy access point. Right off the bat, I pictured trying to haul luggage up this incline and wondered who thought that was a good idea. On the way up, I stepped around furniture and heart-shaped bathtubs that had been uprooted and chucked off of balconies — left there by thieves in a mad dash to find copper.

The cabins themselves were…odd. Odd is a great word to sum up this entire day, really. Knowing the place closed in 2009 is a mind-trip, because it doesn’t look a day evolved past 1975. Plastic strands of terrible fake ivy and roses were push-pinned to the walls. The beds were round, with a circular mirror overhead framed in a shag-carpeted overhang. As a matter of fact, there were mirrors everywhere, on just about every surface in each cabin. It was more “funhouse” than “romantic getaway,” and every time I rounded a corner and unexpectedly came face to face with myself, I nearly had a heart attack.

Then there’s the heart-shaped tubs. Why were they so shallow? Why were they surrounded by shag carpeting? If black mold could die and go to heaven, this is the promised land.

Having seen enough, I made my way to the other side of the property, where the normal hotel rooms and pools (outdoor and in) were located. After marveling at the grossness of the outdoor wedding-bell shaped pool, it was an easy climb to reach the indoor one. Good…God.

Leaning over the edge of the indoor pool was like staring into the abyss to find the abyss staring back.

Online reviews show people complaining that the indoor pool was closed for “renovations” in the hotel’s last weeks. I assume the more likely reason is that it was closed to quell expenses while the resort continued to hemorrhage money. The “POOL CLOSED FOR RENOVATIONS” sign was still there, laying on the floor.

I found dozens of canceled checks and bank statements. Notes someone had jotted down listing bills to be paid in order of importance. Tax documents. Dead dragonflies, lured in by the smell of water only to get stuck there in bad-graffiti-indoor-cesspool-hell and die. And shag. Carpeting. On. The ceiling. Go throw up. I’ll wait.

After the pool, I visited the bar, which was beyond depressing. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a single room get trashed so quickly. The standard studio rooms were nothing to look at either, all identical. Filled with piles of crumbling asbestos tiles and razed into rubble by idiots.

The strange multi-level suites were nearby, and these were just…again, odd. I don’t really know what else to tell you. They were also heavily vandalized, and even in the most in-tact unit, I had to clone out graffiti telling me to go f— myself.

We’d split into groups of two, and Robert and I decided to check out what was across the street. Yes, the main road cuts dead down the middle of this resort. Meaning that if you wanted to eat at their restaurant or visit their activities center, you had to jaywalk across a busy street. Spatial planning at its best!

Most of the buildings across the street were used for storage in the end. But the main activities center was another rabbit hole, filled with furniture and games and costumes and why was there a baby stroller in there? One entire end of the building was littered with what looked like holes from a BB gun, paper targets drooping on the floor. They couldn’t have done that, I dunno, outside?

These TVs were stacked against the wall just months ago. Now they’re a pile of garbage. Beyond sad.

And last, the restaurant. Gutted and smashed to bits, the most redeeming quality of this building was its lovely view of the river below. Here I ran smack into a casually-dressed middle-aged couple, strolling through the dark dinginess snapping cell phone pics as if we were in a public park. We each exchanged a “Hello!” and they wished me a good explore.

Despite the crushing state of this place, it was a good day spent with great people. ‘Til next time.