Showing posts with label Mount Parnitha. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mount Parnitha. Show all posts

Tuesday, December 13, 2016

The TB Sanatorium on Parnitha, Greece - Revisited in 2016 with Tri-X Film

Mount Parnitha is a mountain northwest of the urban sprawl of Athens. In 1912, a tuberculosis sanatorium was built up on the slopes to treat TB patients. In that era, rest in a quiet environment with fresh air was the only means to help victims of the disease. Many Athenian notables spent time there. In sunny weather, it was a nice setting. But in winter, it must have been gloomy for the patients, and Parnitha was known for its winter snows. Thanks to public health initiatives and the availability of modern antibiotics, tuberculosis was largely eradicated from most of Greece after World War II, and the Parnitha hospital closed in the 1950s or early 1960s. Sanatoriums around the world closed, and many of these gloomy old buildings have become popular topics for urban decay photography or paranormal exploration.
Around 1965, the Greek National Tourist Organization bought the hospital and renovated it as part of the now-defunct Xenia hotel chain. Grotesque! Sometime later, it became a training facility for the Xenia organization and closed about 1980. The building you see in the first photograph is clearly not from the 1920s. I have been unable to find information if the original hospital was demolished or added onto.

I previously visited the sanatorium in 2015. But on my latest Greek trip, my nephew expressed an interest in visiting the site, and I had film, so off we went on a sunny afternoon. It was busy up there. A film crew was making a music video, complete with lights, reflectors, a drone, ladies with insufficient garments, and a rented BMW 1600 (see the first picture). Other visitors came and went all afternoon.
This may have been a sitting room or dining hall. The wood flooring is barely visible through the dust.
The hallways are as gloomy as ever. This was a 1-sec. exposure, with camera braced on a concrete block.
This time, we ventured down into the dark cellar level (I did not in 2015 because I was alone). My sturdy nephew was with me to maintain security, and we brought headlamps. But there were no issues, and several tourist groups wandered by, glad that we had headlamps. The photograph above may be one of the old kitchens.
This is a lavatory. The rooms to the right were toilet stalls. Again, a 1-sec. exposure.
There was not too much more to see in the cellars. Most of the wiring and plumbing has been looted. We never saw any kitchen equipment. The honeycomb concrete panels seem reasonably intact, but the degree of cracking plaster, concrete-spalling, cracks, and brick debris make me think the hospital is structurally unsound.
Note the exposed rebars in the wall and the debris scree slope. (This is a digital photograph.)
The air shafts have piled debris that has crumbled off the adjacent walls. The old hospital is unsecured. What will likely happen is someone will have an accident or be killed, and then the municipality will reluctantly secure the site and pay for demolition. And of course, it will be no one's fault for having neglected the hazards for decades.

The square photographs were from a Rolleiflex 3.5E camera with Schneider Xenotar lens on Kodak Tri-X film. Most exposures were 1-sec. long, where I placed the camera on walls or window sills. The Rolleiflex is convenient for this type of work because you can place the body on a support, look down into the viewfinder from any angle, set the self-timer, and move out of the way. I processed the film in HC-110 developer and scanned the negatives at 2820 dpi with a Minolta Scan Multi medium format film scanner. I manipulated the exposure curve to bring up details in the shadows.
As an example of the resolution of the 1960s Xenotar lens, here is a full-size crop of part of the first photograph. You can see the film grain and easily read the license plate.

I am glad to have recorded the hospital with film. Will we be able to open our digital files in 50 years? Will the typical household preserve their digital files for half a century? If you think yes, you are dreaming.

Update 2019:  My nephew told me that the doors and entry ways to the old hospital have been concreted and blocked.

Friday, October 16, 2015

TB Sanatorium, Parnitha, Athens, Greece

Mount Parnitha (in Greek, Πάρνηθα) is a mountain about 30 km north of downtown Athens. When I was a child, it was a common Sunday outing to drive up the winding mountain road to the upper reaches of Parnitha to play in the snow of just enjoy the dense forests. We always passed a hulking old hospital that my parents said was a former sanatorium. In the 1950s, the memory of tuberculosis (or TB) was still fresh in many people's minds. Before the era of antibiotics, a long rest in an environment with clean air was the only hope for TB sufferers (and even then, the recovery rate was low).
A hospital on Parnitha was first was built in 1912 to treat patients suffering from tuberculosis. The facility treated many prominent citizens of Athens over the years. Unfortunately, despite the best efforts of doctors and the purported benefits of the fresh air in sanatoria, in the early 20th century, over 50 percent of patients died within five years. The first successful immunization against tuberculosis was based on attenuated bovine-strain tuberculosis, known as the bacille Calmette–Guérin (BCG). The BCG vaccine only received wide acceptance in USA and Europe after World War II. Thanks to public health initiatives, tuberculosis was largely eradicated from most of Greece and the Parnitha hospital closed in the 1950s or early 1960s. The building at the site is newer than 1912, I guess a reconstruction from the 1950s.
Around 1965, the Greek National Tourist Organization bought the hospital and renovated it as part of the now-defunct Xenia hotel chain. What a disgusting concept: a TB hospital as a hotel? 

The Xenia hotels were a major infrastructure program in the 1950s and 1960s, when Greece wanted to enhance its tourist potential. After the devastating civil war that ended in 1949, Greece lay in ruins and only major cities had hotels. The Xenias were often built in beautiful locations near archaeological sites. Many were of post-war modernist architecture. But they were government-run, and by the 1970s (even the 1960s) were hopelessly outclassed by commercial hotels. I recall drafty, echoey entry halls, erratic hot water, and grim breakfasts that featured stale bread, Nescafe, and a disgusting Tang-like orange drink. According to Wikipedia, the Xenia program was terminated in 1983. Many of the concrete buildings have not aged well, and they often looked out of place in towns among classical stone buildings.
The intrepid visitor ascends the crumbling steps into what was once the main entry hall. Some of the carpet is still there. I processed these photographs in color to show the red and blue carpeting, probably not very elegant even in the 1960s.
I suppose in the past, the public rooms might have been reasonably cheerful on sunny days.
The hallways are long and gloomy, and the concrete and plaster is spalling and crumbling into powder.
Some of the graffiti is pretty imaginative and worth showing in color.
I did not see much furniture. Some bloggers have shown kitchen equipment, but I was hesitant to explore too deeply by myself. My nephew said drug activity happens there, but on the weekday that I visited, all I saw was some other photographers. Still, I decided to not venture alone into the dark cellar.
In 2007, a devastating fire burned a wide area around Parnitha. The fire destroyed rare Greek Fir and Aleppo Pine. Since then, the fallen timber has been removed, leaving a wasteland of bare rock and thin soil. The forest will take decades or centuries to recover. The odd sculpture garden used fire-damaged tree trunks. 

The lower photograph shows the Regency Casino Mont Parnes, minus the once-beautiful forest. The casino and hotel have a cable car, but the site is so remote from Athens, I am surprised it can remain in business.

Click the links below for other articles on the TB sanatorium:

The Greek Reporter

Deserted Places blog (from 2012)

PBS (Public Broadcast System) aired an excellent documentary in February, 2015, on tuberculosis in America, titled The Forgotten Plague. I recommend it highly.

I took these photographs taken with a Panasonic G3 digital camera, with RAW files processed in PhotoNinja software. I drew the map with ESRI ArcMap software.

UPDATE:  For some 2016 photographs on Kodak Tri-X film:  https://worldofdecay.blogspot.com/2016/12/the-tb-hospital-on-parnitha-greece.html