You know that point in ever road trip when you think "This is just like the beginning of every horror film..."? Well, we found ours. As we cruised down the historic Route 66, we stumbled across...this.
Say hello to this bizarre desert-locked oasis. We pulled up under the blaring sun (70+ in December? Get outta here.) and climbed out of the car to have a snoop around. The place was deserted. You could hear a creaking door somewhere. Nothing had changed since...the 60's when it was built. I'm pretty sure those dudes from The Hills Have Eyes were watching us from binocs some distance away, planning who they were going to rape/eat first (presumably me. More meat.)
As we walked up to the lobby, the check-in desk and lounge were eerily preserved. I pressed my lens against the glass to cut the glare and snapped some photos of the incredible wallpaper, in pristine condition thanks to the dryness. The furniture looked bright and new. The clock was stopped exactly at 5. It was odd, as if someone had clocked off for the day, stopped the time, and walked out. The door was locked, so I couldn't nose any further, but a series of small, white cabins with wide-open doors beckoned from next door. This was the odd part. Some had weird graffiti, others had boot-scuffed palette beds. One had the word "HELP" written in dust on an old mirror above a cracked sink. One had a huge printed photo of the view from the window (which was boarded up) which was then stapled inside to the wood. Odd.
What the hell is this place?
We still are no closer to knowing. Nobody was around. There were no signs. It was my favourite part of the trip.