In 2014, I visited a massive tuberculosis hospital. I almost feel as if calling it a hospital is a bit misleading, since it was more as if an entire village or city had been left to rot. It felt like I was walking through the Atlantis of abandoned medical centers.

The streets had become overgrown, taken over by the rapacious force of Mother Nature. Weeds pushed upwards through cracking pavement, while roads resembled abstract gardens of blight filled with foliage. The overgrowth winding sporadically throughout this place created a surreal scene. This truly felt like I was looking into a dark future; life after people.

For nearly 20 years now the hospital grounds have sat, quietly collecting decay, crumbling away behind streets that have now become forests. Now in disrepair, both interiors and exteriors of buildings fell to the ground, collapsing slowly in small sections. In certain areas, ceilings seemed to find their way to the floor, while in others, iron stairways rusted under the passing of time.

A kitchen remains in disarray, while windowpanes are frosted dirt and residue from water damage over many years.

A beautiful, dome-ceiling dining hall falls further into dilapidation. It’s amazing seeing that the glass has held along through so many years. Small gardens pop up in every other room and hallway, adding to the surreal scenery of a place once so regularly full of human life. But who wouldn’t want to add to their decor with the natural beauty of a moss carpet? As overgrowth pushes in to walkways, nature continues to slowly, but surely swallow this lost city.