Abandonment Issues: Paros Island Restaurant

From outside, there are no obvious signs that fire and smoke damage have ravaged The Paros Island Restaurant in Perth, Ontario. According to an AGCO document, the restaurant had its license revoked and was shut down between November 1, 2006 and July 31, 2007. The infraction stated in the document was "Not financially responsible in conducting its business due to Retail Sales Tax Act – did not contest."

I have not been able to ascertain when exactly the fire happened.

After the usual circumference sweep, my wife ninja IX was silently motioning with hand gestures that a driver was asleep in the front seat of the truck parked out back, right beside the ladder we had to climb.

Once inside, another truck pulled up just outside the front doors and parked. The driver talking on his phone; F-bombs and laughter bellowing from his truck, the odd snort and spit. We felt slightly claustrophobic and sealed in with these truckers having us covered from all sides like a SWAT team. Silence is mandatory in these moments. The crunch of broken glass beneath an explorers feet, or something as simple as a burp, could be detrimental to the success of the mission.

The fake plants and pink patterned love seat are still in decent condition in the front lobby. But directly ahead, the severely burnt coat check area leads back to the hostess and server's station and the buffet, which appears to be the point of origin of the fire. Smoke damage was severe in the kitchen and in some dining areas. After an hour of exploring in utter silence, we simply stepped outside, holding hands, camera's 'round our necks, shot the driver a pair of crooked smiles and walked away.





































I ordered the special. It was burnt.

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Abandonment Issues: Land O' Lakes Motel (Under Destruction)

Urban Exploration Travel, that's what we've been doing lately. It's hit and miss. For example, you can drive for countless hours out to a prospective destination, your heart-rate rising as you get close, exuberant nervousness, excitement, and then nothing. It's gone. You can drive seven hours to Montreal to a classic spot like Malt, and not get in. It's sealed. You need to regroup, internet hawk, GPS navigate, check your notes and keep your eyes peeled.

Abandonment hunters, strapped with cameras and untamed curiosity.



Last weeks adventure took us from Toronto to Montreal, with perspective exploration or scouting stops in Perth, Smiths Falls, Ottawa, Anjou, Sorel-Tracy, Kingston, Belleville, Port Hope and Oshawa. A common theme emerged: it was the moment, the right now. Certain places that have been accessed easily by others for long periods of time, were sealed tight upon our arrival. At other locations we seemed to stumble upon a "small window" of opportunity that wouldn't exist in the moments before and after. A restaurant in the aftermath of fire. A handful of gas stations, with prices reading well below the cost of gas for this trip. A giant factory complex, that has clearly been a club for illegal rave parties. A hospital that we had to scale and a prison that ain't nobody getting into. But nothing was more timely than our approach to our first planned explore early last Wednesday morning. If not for GPS, we would likely have driven right passed it, as only three rooms were remaining of the Land O' Lakes Motel at the moment we stopped by in mid April of 2011.






































As the excavator pulled up mattresses and televisions amongst the rubble and dropped it into the dump truck, workers stood around their pick-up trucks like a herd of sloth’s, in full protective gear. White plastic, respirators hanging from necks or resting on the hood.

I had to try, I thought, and I did.

I slammed the car door and walked straight up to what remained of the building, camera in hand. They just looked at me, silently. My wife ninja IX walked about the property, a beautiful blonde diversion. Like deer in headlights they watched me climb the pile of rubble and enter the lopsided unstable building full of asbestos, or they watched her. Flabbergasted by the fact that no one stopped me, it took a second to snap out of it, lift up the camera and start shooting. I didn't want to press my luck or get injured in the remnants that were already very unstable floors before the rest of the building was torn off the side, so I made quick work of what was left of the inside, and exited.











Upon exiting, they smiled at me, all of them, with those 'what the fuck is this idiot doing' grins stuck on their muted faces. But none of them spoke, not until I asked when they started tearing her down. Monday. How long has she been abandoned? Over ten years. By Friday, she'll be gone, one of them added.











And we pulled over again at the end of June of that same year.





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Abandonment Issues: Comiaken Reserve Stone Church

Comiaken Reserve Stone Church, or Butter Church, as it was called, was built by Roman Catholic missionaries in 1870, with the help of the Cowichan Indian tribes. "Helpers were paid by the sale of butter churned by the priest" a gold plaque reads, hence it's old nickname. The missionaries were intent on gaining a following here, but by 1880, the church had been abandoned. It still sits here today, a symbol of the moment of contact between European religion and Native Indian tribes on Vancouver Island.

Here is a great write-up on the history of "Indian Stone Church" by Coast Salish artist Joe Jack.

In 2009 and 10 I spent a chunk of time riding freight trains around Vancouver Island. At this time, we were visiting with a loved one in the area, and she took us to this historic gem. We love and miss you Louise.

I also pasted up this little ditty on some driftwood in Maple Bay on that same trip...



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Abandonment Issues: Concord Floral

It was the spring of 1997 when the last stems were clipped on the Pink Osianas in the warmth of the greenhouse at Concord Floral. One last time, the Bridal Whites and Golden Fantasies alike were packaged into beautiful bouquets or simply bundled and shipped out across the GTA (Greater Toronto Area). Before it's closure in 1997, Concord Floral was the GTA's largest supplier of roses. Since, it has sat abandoned, and is slowly but steadily being reclaimed by nature. In an ironic twist of fate these same plants that brought prosperity are now overtaking the building that once contained them.



It was the spring of 2011 when we approached the quarter million square foot greenhouse. We stumbled onto the skeletal remains of what appeared to be a coyote. Death revealed itself to us before we entered the greenhouse, a juxtaposition of what was to come. Although the plants appear dead, there are still signs of life throughout the greenhouse, and the roses re-appear each year in greater numbers. A perennial reincarnation not granted to the coyote.



Beautiful brand new graffiti by KANE & BACON of the legendary HSA Crew drew us to our entrance.



Engulfed by a wall of heat, i immediately removed my coat and tied it to my waist, and began snapping photos. Mesmerized by the geometric patterns through the lens of my Canon Rebel stock, I traversed the skinny overgrown walkways, with ninja in tow. Awkward steps over falling trellises and overgrown roots and branches, side to side, crossing the central walkway in a loose grid. Gardening gloves, shovels, hydroponic lights, dripline irrigation, ladders, thermometers, hoses, hardhats and rakes were a sample of the things left behind.























A long central walkway bisects the length of the main greenhouse. Precariously, loose wooden planks cover a series of underground tunnels of irrigation piping. Another stark contrast, the humidity in the greenhouse and the chilling cold tunnels below. Unfortunately, none of my underground shots were worthy of posting. Next time I will bring ye olde tripod.







Upon re-opening the door and exiting the greenhouse, after an extensive explore, we were met with a wall of cold spring air colliding with our perspiring foreheads. A minute later, we were inside the heart of the main building, that would have pumped life into the greenhouse, keeping it alive, pulsing with electricity and water. A steam pressure gauge was still buzzing on the wall, breaking the otherwise impeccable silence. Footsteps and camera clicks, oohs and awws, a quick kiss, passing the camera back and forth.













As the coyote experienced first hand, everything comes to an end. This mission was no exception.



A return trip was planned to capture the greenhouse in its full glory during summer months, with the roses in bloom, but Concord Floral is under demolition.

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