Latest news with #BakerHotel
Yahoo
05-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Yahoo
These hotels were once the pinnacle of luxury. Now they sit abandoned
Anyone who has ever watched an episode of Scooby-Doo, the classic cartoon series where the villains are corrupt bank managers, implausibly masquerading as monsters, rather than actual monsters (although, even more implausibly, the gang falls for the smoke-and-mirrors trick every time), will grasp the appeal of an abandoned hotel. There is something about such relics that fizzes with lurid, ghoulish attraction. The dead five-star calls to the part of us that is intrigued by ruin tourism. But it is also somehow more than that – a fallen angel whose story sings of good times and bad, of success and failure, of ambitions fracturing in the face of hard economic realities. The following properties have won, and then lost, at various moments in the past century or so – but all of them, crucially, are still standing, pitched like mossy gravestones to the memories of their own existence. Some of them could yet be reborn – but for now, they are much more interesting for their declines than for any future possibility of redemption. Where? Mineral Wells, Texas, United States When did it close? In 1963, pretty much, although it had brief re-openings until 1972 Once upon a time: Mineral Wells is not a town well known to anyone who lives outside Texas; it sits 80 miles west of Dallas, in the north of America's second-biggest state. But it boasts natural hot springs, and had enough of a tourist industry in the 1920s for the idea of an elaborate hotel to be put into play. The Baker Hotel was the result, opening in 1929, and flourishing in the 1930s and 1940s. At its peak, it accommodated film stars (Clark Gable, Judy Garland) and future presidents (Lyndon B Johnson). Legend has it that it also hosted the glamorous Depression-era bank robbers Bonnie and Clyde. What killed it? Waning interest in Mineral Wells as a spa destination – and the declining enthusiasm of its owner, Earl Baker, who vowed to close the hotel after his 70th birthday in 1963, and doggedly kept his promise. As if to prove a point, Baker even had a heart attack in the property in 1967; he was found unconscious on the floor of the Baker Suite. Hope for the future? Absolutely. There have been persistent murmurings about a revival of the Baker, but rumour morphed into fact in 2019 when the building was purchased by a Dallas-based investor. Plans were promptly announced for an overhaul that would see the number of rooms slashed from 450 to 165, and the second floor returned to its former glory as a spa. Progress has been slow, and a projected re-opening date of 'autumn 2024' has now slipped back to a more distant '2028', but the Baker is on a path to resurrection. Where: Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, US When did it close? 1999 Once upon a time: Initially built as apartments between 1892 and 1894, this elegant 10-storey structure in north Philadelphia was transformed into the Lorraine Hotel in 1900, in a moment when Pennsylvania's biggest city was enjoying a pre-war upswing. Yet its story was just beginning. It was sold in 1948 to an enigmatic figure; a man who may have been born in 1876 as 'George Baker' (the records are unclear), but who, by the middle of the 20th century, was living as 'Father Divine', a charismatic preacher. He added his name to the property, and turned it into the United States' first racially desegregated accommodation – a haven where all guests were considered 'equal in the sight of God'. A rooftop sign which identifies the site as the 'Divine Lorraine Hotel' is still on display. What killed it? Changing times. Divine's movement, the International Peace Mission, sold the property in 2000. Fittings and all items of value were stripped out, and the structure was soon lost to graffiti and smashed glass – although its existence was at least guaranteed in 2002, when it was added to the US's National Register of Historic Places. Hope for the future? Yes and no. Various attempts to revive the building, including converting some of it back into flats, have foundered in the last 25 years. The most recent brainwave saw the lower floors rebooted as part of the Mint House brand of furnished apartments. Alas, the 'Mint House at the Divine Lorraine' closed in January 2025 after three underwhelming years. The Mint House website currently has no mention of Philadelphia. Where: Beirut, Lebanon When did it close? 1975 Once upon a time: The gruesome poster-boy for ruined hotels, this one-time magnet for well-to-do tourists was open for barely a year before it was consumed by conflict. It was built between 1971 and 1974, in an era when Beirut was a playground for rich tourists seeking Mediterranean sun. With 26 storeys, it had a revolving restaurant on its top floor, a nightclub on the 25th, and was a short hop from the beach in the Minet el Hosn district. What killed it? The Lebanese Civil War, which erupted in 1975, and would keep Beirut in its grip until 1990. The Holiday Inn was quickly eviscerated, its height and location making it a coveted vantage point for rival militias, who fought for it during the 'Battle of the Hotels' – and used it as a snipers' nest thereafter. Four years after it opened, the property was riddled with craters and artillery holes. As many as 1,000 people are thought to have died in this phase of the war, some thrown from the Holiday Inn's roof. Hope for the future? Who knows. The Holiday Inn is a near-literal tombstone, rearing over the next-door Phoenicia Hotel – which was also badly damaged but has since been restored. The chances of a similar comeback for its neighbour look slim. Aside from the massive structural issues caused by the fighting, the Holiday Inn is mired in bureaucracy. It is co-owned by two companies – one Lebanese, which wants to convert the hotel into apartments; one Kuwaiti, which has ambitions to demolish the building and craft a new property on its footprint. Agreement between the two has been non-existent for decades. Where: Leccio, Tuscany, Italy When did it close? 1990 Once upon a time: Few hotels have as twisting a tale as this jewel, which sits marooned in the Tuscan countryside, 17 miles south-east of Florence. Indeed, referring to it simply as a 'hotel' rather underplays its history. It was originally erected in the 17th century, and then transformed between 1853 and 1889 by nobleman Ferdinando Panciatichi Ximenes, who remodelled it as a 'Moorish' palazzo akin to the Alhambra in Granada. Its fine mosaics and Arabesque designs made for a wonderful hotel when Castello di Sammezzano opened as such during the 1970s – its 365 rooms ringing to the chatter of wealthy guests. What killed it? The number of paying customers could never keep pace with the cost of the Castello's upkeep and maintenance. Since its closure, it has existed in a vacuum; too precious to lose, too expensive to renovate to full majesty. Hope for the future? Happily it has just been bought by the Florentine Moretti family, which owns Hotel Number Nine in Florence. They'll have a task on their hands – it is currently in a state of disrepair, to the extent that even guided tours have been impossible. However, it has periodically popped up on the big screen. In 2015 it was used as a setting for the fantasy-horror film Tale of Tales, starring Salma Hayek. Where: San Pellegrino, Lombardy, Italy When did it close? 1979 Once upon a time: A place synonymous with bottled water, the Italian spa town of San Pellegrino should be, you would think, famous enough to sustain a palatial hotel. Alas, the Grand has been in limbo for more than 40 years. Opened in 1904, it preens on the left bank of the river Brembo; a tribute to the talents of Italian architect Romolo Squadrelli and the engineer Luigi Mazzocchi. With 250 rooms and seven storeys, it was fitted with the sort of lavish accoutrements that were slotted into fine hotels in the years before the First World War. Margherita of Savoy, the Queen-consort of Italy, paid it a visit in 1905. What killed it? The usual slow creep of unappetising economic truths – failure to upgrade for modernising times, the surging costs of keeping so extravagant a hotel alive. Hope for the future? To an extent. The Grand is too beautiful a structure to demolish, and its magnificence has not been forgotten. Occasional tours allow visitors to peek at its art nouveau stylings (visit Where: Strpce, Kosovo When did it close? 2008 Once upon a time: Some of the hotels in this feature used to be stately wonders. You cannot say the same of the Hotel Narcis, an unlovely slab of Communist-era accommodation which now sits mouldering in the village of Strpce, just outside the ski resort of Brezovica in Kosovo. Nominally a four-star, it was more than fit for purpose in the calm Yugoslavian era, but reality has bitten since the region fractured in the 1990s. What killed it? Not so much the wars that devoured the Balkan region from 1991 onwards as the ongoing uncertainty about the status of Kosovo (much of the world, including the UK, regards it as an independent state; neighbouring Serbia does not). Tensions between Kosovans and Serbians have seen each group boycott the other's businesses. Trade had been sluggish for Hotel Narcis long before it bolted the front door. Hope for the future? Perhaps. Brezovica is a functioning ski resort, so it is possible that the hotel will re-emerge at some juncture. The question of when is impossible to answer. Where: Marsaskala, Malta When did it close? 2007 Once upon a time: Some hotels have a darker story than others. The Jerma Palace is one of those. Its seeds were sown in 1976, when the land it stands on was purchased by the Libyan Foreign Investment Company – an offshoot of the Gaddafi government across the Mediterranean in Tripoli. It opened in 1982 and, at first, did well – Muammar Gaddafi even had a presidential suite within the property for his personal use. What killed it? Its location didn't help. Marsaskala sits at the south-east end of Malta's main island, somewhat removed from the main tourist areas of St Julian's and Sliema. As a result, the hotel – all 345 rooms of it – struggled with under-occupancy. It has, though, reputedly had residents since it closed. In December 2015, there were reports that people traffickers were using the property as a drop-off point for migrants smuggled into the EU. Hope for the future? None whatsoever. The hotel has crumbled since its closure. Parts of it have collapsed, anything with a resale value has been stolen, and rubbish has welled up in many of the rooms. Redevelopment plans for the site have been tethered by red tape for the best part of a decade, but whatever happens, the original hotel will be demolished. Where: Hachijo-jima, Japan When did it close? 2006 Once upon a time: The 1960s was a boom time for the Izu archipelago – volcanic outcrops strewn across the Philippine Sea south of Japan's main island, Honshu. The country was recovering from the Second World War, and blessed with a new generation increasingly keen to travel farther afield. These lava-born dots in the ocean came to be a halfway house – close to home but still exotic. They were even promoted as the 'Hawaii of Japan' – and Hachijo-jima, which lies 200 miles south of Tokyo, was at the forefront of the rush to the beach. The Hachijo Royal Hotel appeared in 1963 as a Baroque fantasy, all Greek-style statues in the garden and fountains tinkling in soft salute to the rising sun. What killed it? Changing tastes. It was difficult for the Japanese to travel abroad before the 1960s, but it soon became clear that the world was an oyster, and the wider horizon called. The hotel limped into the new century, but has been defunct now for two decades. Hope for the future? Possible but unlikely. The island's lush vegetation has begun to reclaim the property – swamping its sculptures and swallowing its dead swimming pool. It would take enormous investment to resurrect it – and tourist interest is no longer there. Where: Outside Motilla del Palancar, Castilla-La Mancha, Spain When did it close? 1999 Once upon a time: Not all abandoned hotels are flights of fancy that suffered an Icarus fate. The Hotel Claridge was a fabled workhorse of the Spanish road system, pitched roughly midway along the N-3 highway, where it connects Madrid to Valencia. It opened in 1969, and looked the part – a grey slab of concrete brutalism, very much in sync with the unflinching outlook of General Franco's regime. It became a key stop-off point for coaches travelling from the capital to the country's third-biggest city – disgorging regular hordes of hungry passengers, who would eat quickly before jumping back onto their bus. What killed it? The construction of a swifter section of the A-3, directly to the south, between Honrubia and Motilla del Palancar, which cut the Claridge from the coach route, and starved it of its customers. As it was not a destination in itself, this was a death knell. Hope for the future? None. But it is a spectacular wreck, looming large at the roadside. Where: Beira, Mozambique When did it close? 1963 Once upon a time: The idea that anyone would build a luxury hotel on the coast of Mozambique in the middle of the last century sounds implausible – but that is exactly what happened in the city of Beira in 1954. And it was not such a crazy scheme. At the time, this slice of south-eastern Africa was one of the jewels of (what was left of) the Portuguese Empire, and Beira, which sits midway up the country's long Indian Ocean shoreline, was able to attract expats keen to sun themselves on warm sands. The Grande was constructed in an effusive art deco style, and had a hugely decadent accessory in the form of an Olympic-sized swimming pool. It was hoped that it would become a tourism beacon, also pulling in monied visitors from neighbouring Rhodesia (modern Zimbabwe). What killed it? The project was too ambitious. The hotel was awfully expensive, even for the colonial elite – and Beira was ultimately too remote for the siren call to be heard (it is more than 700 miles north of the national capital, Maputo). The Grande closed down more than a decade before the curtain fell on Portuguese rule in Mozambique in 1975; prior as well to the civil war which subsequently disembowelled the country (between 1977 and 1992). Hope for the future? No. The Grande was used for occasional parties and weddings in the late 1960s – but the civil war saw it fill with refugees and those fleeing the bullets. It is now, effectively, a giant squat. More than 1,000 people, including many families, currently live in its 116 rooms. The Olympic pool is still there, clogged with rubbish and dank water. Every abandoned hotel in this article at least had its glory days; those first few months of popularity. But even this brief window of success has, as yet, eluded the Ryugyong Hotel. Mockingly referred to as the 'Hotel of Doom' by amused outsiders, this 105-storey pyramid has been under construction for almost 40 years – without ever greeting a guest. It dominates the skyline in Pyongyang, towering over the rest of the North Korean capital at a height of 1,083ft. Prior to the ascent of the Goldin Finance 117 skyscraper – which hits 1,957ft in the northerly Chinese city of Tianjin but has been stalled as a construction project since 2015 – the hotel was the world's tallest unoccupied building. Work on the property commenced in 1987, when Kim Il Sung, North Korea's founder and 'Eternal President,' was still in power. It was supposed to open in 1989 and would have done so as the world's tallest hotel – had it managed to cut the ribbon on schedule. Instead, tools were downed in 1992, as North Korea fell into hard times – the collapse of the Soviet Union taking with it the country's leading international benefactor. Japanese newspapers reported that, by this point, the property had already cost US$750 million (£565 million); the equivalent of 2 per cent of North Korea's gross domestic product (GDP). However, without outside funding, there was no hope of completion. In the late 1990s, a discreet inspection by the European Chamber of Commerce in Korea (ECCK) deemed the hotel to be irreparable – damned by cracked concrete and crooked lift shafts. Undeterred, the North Korean regime has soldiered on. In 2008, windows were finally installed, and an opening date of 2012 was announced, to coincide with the 'Eternal President's' 100th birthday (although he died in 1994). Alas, neither Kim Il-Sung's son, Kim Jong-il (who ruled until 2011), nor his grandson, Kim Jong-un, have seen the hotel to fruition. A brief partnership with the luxury hotel management company Kempinski came and went in 2013. LED screens showing the North Korean flag were added in 2018. At time of writing, the North Korean government is purportedly considering converting the site into a colossal casino. Broaden your horizons with award-winning British journalism. Try The Telegraph free for 1 month with unlimited access to our award-winning website, exclusive app, money-saving offers and more.
Telegraph
05-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Telegraph
These hotels were once the pinnacle of luxury. Now they sit abandoned
Anyone who has ever watched an episode of Scooby-Doo, the classic cartoon series where the villains are corrupt bank managers, implausibly masquerading as monsters, rather than actual monsters (although, even more implausibly, the gang falls for the smoke-and-mirrors trick every time), will grasp the appeal of an abandoned hotel. There is something about such relics that fizzes with lurid, ghoulish attraction. The dead five-star calls to the part of us that is intrigued by ruin tourism. But it is also somehow more than that – a fallen angel whose story sings of good times and bad, of success and failure, of ambitions fracturing in the face of hard economic realities. The following properties have won, and then lost, at various moments in the past century or so – but all of them, crucially, are still standing, pitched like mossy gravestones to the memories of their own existence. Some of them could yet be reborn – but for now, they are much more interesting for their declines than for any future possibility of redemption. 1. The Baker Hotel Where? Mineral Wells, Texas, United States When did it close? In 1963, pretty much, although it had brief re-openings until 1972 Once upon a time: Mineral Wells is not a town well known to anyone who lives outside Texas; it sits 80 miles west of Dallas, in the north of America's second-biggest state. But it boasts natural hot springs, and had enough of a tourist industry in the 1920s for the idea of an elaborate hotel to be put into play. The Baker Hotel was the result, opening in 1929, and flourishing in the 1930s and 1940s. At its peak, it accommodated film stars (Clark Gable, Judy Garland) and future presidents (Lyndon B Johnson). Legend has it that it also hosted the glamorous Depression-era bank robbers Bonnie and Clyde. What killed it? Waning interest in Mineral Wells as a spa destination – and the declining enthusiasm of its owner, Earl Baker, who vowed to close the hotel after his 70th birthday in 1963, and doggedly kept his promise. As if to prove a point, Baker even had a heart attack in the property in 1967; he was found unconscious on the floor of the Baker Suite. Hope for the future? Absolutely. There have been persistent murmurings about a revival of the Baker, but rumour morphed into fact in 2019 when the building was purchased by a Dallas-based investor. Plans were promptly announced for an overhaul that would see the number of rooms slashed from 450 to 165, and the second floor returned to its former glory as a spa. Progress has been slow, and a projected re-opening date of 'autumn 2024' has now slipped back to a more distant '2028', but the Baker is on a path to resurrection. 2. Divine Lorraine Hotel Where: Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, US When did it close? 1999 Once upon a time: Initially built as apartments between 1892 and 1894, this elegant 10-storey structure in north Philadelphia was transformed into the Lorraine Hotel in 1900, in a moment when Pennsylvania's biggest city was enjoying a pre-war upswing. Yet its story was just beginning. It was sold in 1948 to an enigmatic figure; a man who may have been born in 1876 as 'George Baker' (the records are unclear), but who, by the middle of the 20th century, was living as 'Father Divine', a charismatic preacher. He added his name to the property, and turned it into the United States' first racially desegregated accommodation – a haven where all guests were considered 'equal in the sight of God'. A rooftop sign which identifies the site as the 'Divine Lorraine Hotel' is still on display. What killed it? Changing times. Divine's movement, the International Peace Mission, sold the property in 2000. Fittings and all items of value were stripped out, and the structure was soon lost to graffiti and smashed glass – although its existence was at least guaranteed in 2002, when it was added to the US's National Register of Historic Places. Hope for the future? Yes and no. Various attempts to revive the building, including converting some of it back into flats, have foundered in the last 25 years. The most recent brainwave saw the lower floors rebooted as part of the Mint House brand of furnished apartments. Alas, the 'Mint House at the Divine Lorraine' closed in January 2025 after three underwhelming years. The Mint House website currently has no mention of Philadelphia. 3. Holiday Inn Beirut Where: Beirut, Lebanon When did it close? 1975 Once upon a time: The gruesome poster-boy for ruined hotels, this one-time magnet for well-to-do tourists was open for barely a year before it was consumed by conflict. It was built between 1971 and 1974, in an era when Beirut was a playground for rich tourists seeking Mediterranean sun. With 26 storeys, it had a revolving restaurant on its top floor, a nightclub on the 25th, and was a short hop from the beach in the Minet el Hosn district. What killed it? The Lebanese Civil War, which erupted in 1975, and would keep Beirut in its grip until 1990. The Holiday Inn was quickly eviscerated, its height and location making it a coveted vantage point for rival militias, who fought for it during the 'Battle of the Hotels' – and used it as a snipers' nest thereafter. Four years after it opened, the property was riddled with craters and artillery holes. As many as 1,000 people are thought to have died in this phase of the war, some thrown from the Holiday Inn's roof. Hope for the future? Who knows. The Holiday Inn is a near-literal tombstone, rearing over the next-door Phoenicia Hotel – which was also badly damaged but has since been restored. The chances of a similar comeback for its neighbour look slim. Aside from the massive structural issues caused by the fighting, the Holiday Inn is mired in bureaucracy. It is co-owned by two companies – one Lebanese, which wants to convert the hotel into apartments; one Kuwaiti, which has ambitions to demolish the building and craft a new property on its footprint. Agreement between the two has been non-existent for decades. 4. Castello di Sammezzano Where: Leccio, Tuscany, Italy When did it close? 1990 Once upon a time: Few hotels have as twisting a tale as this jewel, which sits marooned in the Tuscan countryside, 17 miles south-east of Florence. Indeed, referring to it simply as a 'hotel' rather underplays its history. It was originally erected in the 17th century, and then transformed between 1853 and 1889 by nobleman Ferdinando Panciatichi Ximenes, who remodelled it as a 'Moorish' palazzo akin to the Alhambra in Granada. Its fine mosaics and Arabesque designs made for a wonderful hotel when Castello di Sammezzano opened as such during the 1970s – its 365 rooms ringing to the chatter of wealthy guests. What killed it? The number of paying customers could never keep pace with the cost of the Castello's upkeep and maintenance. Since its closure, it has existed in a vacuum; too precious to lose, too expensive to renovate to full majesty. Hope for the future? Sort of. The property is certainly loved, and its owners dream of a total restoration ( But it is currently in a state of disrepair, to the extent that even guided tours are impossible. However, it does periodically pop up on the big screen. In 2015 it was used as a setting for the fantasy-horror film Tale of Tales, starring Salma Hayek. 5. Grand Hotel San Pellegrino Terme Where: San Pellegrino, Lombardy, Italy When did it close? 1979 Once upon a time: A place synonymous with bottled water, the Italian spa town of San Pellegrino should be, you would think, famous enough to sustain a palatial hotel. Alas, the Grand has been in limbo for more than 40 years. Opened in 1904, it preens on the left bank of the river Brembo; a tribute to the talents of Italian architect Romolo Squadrelli and the engineer Luigi Mazzocchi. With 250 rooms and seven storeys, it was fitted with the sort of lavish accoutrements that were slotted into fine hotels in the years before the First World War. Margherita of Savoy, the Queen-consort of Italy, paid it a visit in 1905. What killed it? The usual slow creep of unappetising economic truths – failure to upgrade for modernising times, the surging costs of keeping so extravagant a hotel alive. Hope for the future? To an extent. The Grand is too beautiful a structure to demolish, and its magnificence has not been forgotten. Occasional tours allow visitors to peek at its art nouveau stylings (visit 6. Hotel Narcis When did it close? 2008 Once upon a time: Some of the hotels in this feature used to be stately wonders. You cannot say the same of the Hotel Narcis, an unlovely slab of Communist-era accommodation which now sits mouldering in the village of Strpce, just outside the ski resort of Brezovica in Kosovo. Nominally a four-star, it was more than fit for purpose in the calm Yugoslavian era, but reality has bitten since the region fractured in the 1990s. What killed it? Not so much the wars that devoured the Balkan region from 1991 onwards as the ongoing uncertainty about the status of Kosovo (much of the world, including the UK, regards it as an independent state; neighbouring Serbia does not). Tensions between Kosovans and Serbians have seen each group boycott the other's businesses. Trade had been sluggish for Hotel Narcis long before it bolted the front door. Hope for the future? Perhaps. Brezovica is a functioning ski resort, so it is possible that the hotel will re-emerge at some juncture. The question of when is impossible to answer. 7. Jerma Palace Hotel Where: Marsaskala, Malta When did it close? 2007 Once upon a time: Some hotels have a darker story than others. The Jerma Palace is one of those. Its seeds were sown in 1976, when the land it stands on was purchased by the Libyan Foreign Investment Company – an offshoot of the Gaddafi government across the Mediterranean in Tripoli. It opened in 1982 and, at first, did well – Muammar Gaddafi even had a presidential suite within the property for his personal use. What killed it? Its location didn't help. Marsaskala sits at the south-east end of Malta's main island, somewhat removed from the main tourist areas of St Julian's and Sliema. As a result, the hotel – all 345 rooms of it – struggled with under-occupancy. It has, though, reputedly had residents since it closed. In December 2015, there were reports that people traffickers were using the property as a drop-off point for migrants smuggled into the EU. Hope for the future? None whatsoever. The hotel has crumbled since its closure. Parts of it have collapsed, anything with a resale value has been stolen, and rubbish has welled up in many of the rooms. Redevelopment plans for the site have been tethered by red tape for the best part of a decade, but whatever happens, the original hotel will be demolished. 8. Hachijo Royal Hotel Where: Hachijo-jima, Japan When did it close? 2006 Once upon a time: The 1960s was a boom time for the Izu archipelago – volcanic outcrops strewn across the Philippine Sea south of Japan's main island, Honshu. The country was recovering from the Second World War, and blessed with a new generation increasingly keen to travel farther afield. These lava-born dots in the ocean came to be a halfway house – close to home but still exotic. They were even promoted as the 'Hawaii of Japan' – and Hachijo-jima, which lies 200 miles south of Tokyo, was at the forefront of the rush to the beach. The Hachijo Royal Hotel appeared in 1963 as a Baroque fantasy, all Greek-style statues in the garden and fountains tinkling in soft salute to the rising sun. What killed it? Changing tastes. It was difficult for the Japanese to travel abroad before the 1960s, but it soon became clear that the world was an oyster, and the wider horizon called. The hotel limped into the new century, but has been defunct now for two decades. Hope for the future? Possible but unlikely. The island's lush vegetation has begun to reclaim the property – swamping its sculptures and swallowing its dead swimming pool. It would take enormous investment to resurrect it – and tourist interest is no longer there. 9. Hotel Claridge Where: Outside Motilla del Palancar, Castilla-La Mancha, Spain When did it close? 1999 Once upon a time: Not all abandoned hotels are flights of fancy that suffered an Icarus fate. The Hotel Claridge was a fabled workhorse of the Spanish road system, pitched roughly midway along the N-3 highway, where it connects Madrid to Valencia. It opened in 1969, and looked the part – a grey slab of concrete brutalism, very much in sync with the unflinching outlook of General Franco's regime. It became a key stop-off point for coaches travelling from the capital to the country's third-biggest city – disgorging regular hordes of hungry passengers, who would eat quickly before jumping back onto their bus. What killed it? The construction of a swifter section of the A-3, directly to the south, between Honrubia and Motilla del Palancar, which cut the Claridge from the coach route, and starved it of its customers. As it was not a destination in itself, this was a death knell. Hope for the future? None. But it is a spectacular wreck, looming large at the roadside. 10. Grande Hotel Where: Beira, Mozambique When did it close? 1963 Once upon a time: The idea that anyone would build a luxury hotel on the coast of Mozambique in the middle of the last century sounds implausible – but that is exactly what happened in the city of Beira in 1954. And it was not such a crazy scheme. At the time, this slice of south-eastern Africa was one of the jewels of (what was left of) the Portuguese Empire, and Beira, which sits midway up the country's long Indian Ocean shoreline, was able to attract expats keen to sun themselves on warm sands. The Grande was constructed in an effusive art deco style, and had a hugely decadent accessory in the form of an Olympic-sized swimming pool. It was hoped that it would become a tourism beacon, also pulling in monied visitors from neighbouring Rhodesia (modern Zimbabwe). What killed it? The project was too ambitious. The hotel was awfully expensive, even for the colonial elite – and Beira was ultimately too remote for the siren call to be heard (it is more than 700 miles north of the national capital, Maputo). The Grande closed down more than a decade before the curtain fell on Portuguese rule in Mozambique in 1975; prior as well to the civil war which subsequently disembowelled the country (between 1977 and 1992). Hope for the future? No. The Grande was used for occasional parties and weddings in the late 1960s – but the civil war saw it fill with refugees and those fleeing the bullets. It is now, effectively, a giant squat. More than 1,000 people, including many families, currently live in its 116 rooms. The Olympic pool is still there, clogged with rubbish and dank water. North Korea's 'Hotel of Doom' Every abandoned hotel in this article at least had its glory days; those first few months of popularity. But even this brief window of success has, as yet, eluded the Ryugyong Hotel. Mockingly referred to as the 'Hotel of Doom' by amused outsiders, this 105-storey pyramid has been under construction for almost 40 years – without ever greeting a guest. It dominates the skyline in Pyongyang, towering over the rest of the North Korean capital at a height of 1,083ft. Prior to the ascent of the Goldin Finance 117 skyscraper – which hits 1,957ft in the northerly Chinese city of Tianjin but has been stalled as a construction project since 2015 – the hotel was the world's tallest unoccupied building. Work on the property commenced in 1987, when Kim Il Sung, North Korea's founder and 'Eternal President,' was still in power. It was supposed to open in 1989 and would have done so as the world's tallest hotel – had it managed to cut the ribbon on schedule. Instead, tools were downed in 1992, as North Korea fell into hard times – the collapse of the Soviet Union taking with it the country's leading international benefactor. Japanese newspapers reported that, by this point, the property had already cost US$750 million (£565 million); the equivalent of 2 per cent of North Korea's gross domestic product (GDP). However, without outside funding, there was no hope of completion. In the late 1990s, a discreet inspection by the European Chamber of Commerce in Korea (ECCK) deemed the hotel to be irreparable – damned by cracked concrete and crooked lift shafts. Undeterred, the North Korean regime has soldiered on. In 2008, windows were finally installed, and an opening date of 2012 was announced, to coincide with the 'Eternal President's' 100th birthday (although he died in 1994). Alas, neither Kim Il-Sung 's son, Kim Jong-il (who ruled until 2011), nor his grandson, Kim Jong-un, have seen the hotel to fruition. A brief partnership with the luxury hotel management company Kempinski came and went in 2013. LED screens showing the North Korean flag were added in 2018. At time of writing, the North Korean government is purportedly considering converting the site into a colossal casino.
Yahoo
07-03-2025
- Yahoo
Spring Break destinations on just a tank of gas
WICHITA FALLS (KFDX/KJTL) — Spring Break is almost here, and while there is plenty to see and do in our own backyard, sometimes a quick day trip is needed. Here is a list of places you can visit on just one tank of gas – depending on how good your car's gas mileage is. If you are looking for big skies, Copper Breaks State Park has the views for you. Designated by the International Dark Sky Association as an International Dark Sky Park, Copper Breaks is a stargazer's dream. It is far enough away from the city lights and on the flat Texas plains to allow for miles of night sky. But don't wait until nighttime to head out there! Camping, hiking, biking, fishing, swimming, and other programs are available for visitors. Entry to the park is $3 for those over 13 and free for those younger. Located near Cisco, TX, this 0.9-mile look trail winds through a 100-year-old abandoned zoo and features old ruins and cages from the 1920s. It is also home to the 'World's Largest Concrete Swimming Pool,' which can still be seen today. The path is noted to be a bit overgrown, but maps are available to help navigate through the park. For more information, check out AllTrails. Medicine Park was initially founded as Oklahoma's first resort town. With Bath Lake, Lake Lawtonka, and the Wichita Mountains Wildlife Refuge, plenty of outdoor activities keep you busy for a full day. The Wichita Refuge houses 59,000 acres and is home to hundreds of animal species, including American bison, elk, deer, longhorn cattle, and prairie dogs. In addition to outdoor activities, just outside of Lawton is the Fort Sill National Historic Landmark and Museum. If you want to extend your trip longer than a day, public campgrounds, cabins, and other rentals have everything you need for a quick getaway. With attractions such as Lake Mineral Well State Park, the Clark Gardens Botanical Park, and the Baker Hotel, to name a few. Mineral Wells might be a small town, but it is full of potential for fun. The town has a rich history, with the Historic Famous Water Drinking Pavilion where you can try Crazy Water. For those who like a little spooky, Mineral Wells is also known for its paranormal activity – specifically The Haunted Hill House. Now, we already told you about Medicine Park, but Quartz Mountain is the gateway into the Wichita Mountains. Along the shores of Lake Altus-Lugert, this park has rock climbing, wildlife, hiking, fishing, boating and plenty of other outdoor activities. Stop for lunch at the Lookout Kitchen or spend a night in the recently renovated lodge and soak up some of Oklahoma's finest beach views. Are you looking for the perfect photo opp? Texas Tulips could be a good day trip for you. With about 100 varieties of tulips, they have a color and shape for everyone. Entry into the field is $7, and the tulips are $3 a stem. You take a picking basket and pick the tulips you want to buy, and then workers will wrap them for you in pretty paper and put a special gel on the stems to preserve them until you get home. If you need inspiration for pictures or additional encouragement, check out their Instagram. Home to the largest waterfall in Oklahoma, Turner Falls Park has 1,500 acres that have been compared to the Grand Canyon and the Black Hills in that the terrain provides a geological view into the past. In addition to the waterfall, which is probably a little cold this time of year, the grounds also include a walk-in castle, picnic areas, nature trails, and lots of wildlife. Entry into the park during the week will cost $9 for adults and $6 for children ages 6 to 12. One of the closest ones on the list, the Whiteside Museum of Natural History, is located in Seymour, less than 50 miles from Wichita Falls. Created to highlight the paleontological importance of Seymour and Baylor County, the museum has been visited by close to 50,000 people since its opening in 2013. The highlight of the Whiteside Museum is Bonnie, a complete skeleton of the famous finback reptile Dimetrodon, which is 287 million years old. The museum is closed on Mondays, but Tuesday through Saturday, it is open from 10 a.m. until 4 p.m. On Sundays, it is open from noon until 4 p.m. Tickets are $7 for adults and $5 for kids. While the museum is expanding, specific halls are closed to the public, but there is still plenty to see. Copyright 2025 Nexstar Media, Inc. All rights reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten, or redistributed.
