In which I scale a fence and evade a security guard to explore an abandoned hotel
In the small Malaysian fishing town of Teluk Bahang, made up primarily of single-story wood and brick houses, a giant white obelisk punctuates the skyline. An abandoned resort hotel towers over the surrounding area, beckoning the curious to explore.
Leaping over the corrugated iron threshold, the scene is apocalyptic. Decay hangs off every structure, the once lavish white surfaces covered in grime. Each of the countless openings that cover the facade, recede into an eerie void, occasionally host to a protruding plant. A large swimming pool now sits empty save for accumulating debris and loose shingles that have slid off the roof of the bar. The mosaic tiles still hang on to their vivid blue colour, but are steadily crumbling to dust like everything else.
Approaching the entrance to the hotel, the shattered glass crunches under your shoes, echoing off the blank, faded walls. Bits of plaster and wiring hang from the ceiling, as if time has paused mid-collapse and the slightest movement will set the inevitable in motion again.
You can almost hear the faint footsteps of guests striding along the hallways, trying to find their rooms, the murmurs of conversation drifting from behind closed doors. This place feels haunted by it's past, and what it could have been were it not for the misfortune that struck it.
