Abandoned buildings/haikyo come in all shapes and sizes as well as covering all manner of previous purposes; however, whilst a certain amount of melancholy is par for the course due to the memories, and to a certain extent the lost hope, left behind, the Higashi Izu-cho Isolation Ward is by far the most depressing place I have ever visited.
A predominantly wooden structure that, due to its location in a relatively dense bamboo forest, is rapidly decaying — the sanatorium’s brave battle with mother nature now very much a long lost cause.
Yet when the ward finally closed its dilapidated doors isn’t exactly clear, with anywhere up to the early 80s deemed possible, although magazines found in one of the rooms apparently suggest it may well have peaked in the mid 60s.
But regardless of the dates, the ward’s remaining straw mattress beds,
along with the antiquated and now damaged fittings,
paint an especially bleak picture.
One in which sick and presumably dying patients — smallpox being the most likely cause — lived out whatever time they had amidst the most basic of facilities.
Somehow dealing with the no doubt dank and dreary conditions.
And all the time resting on those aforementioned,
and absolutely horrible looking,