Abandoned hotel in British Columbia Inter Passage | Limited Edition of 10

Desolate Coastal Hotel Photograph from British Columbia

Somewhere along the mist-shrouded edge of British Columbia’s rugged coast, this crumbling structure still clings to the hillside like it’s trying to remember what it once was. A hotel, maybe. Or a company lodge. Or a fleeting dream that outlasted its purpose. I found it tucked away in Inter Passage—half hidden by fog, fully forgotten by time.

Everything about this place felt like a secret. The collapsed beams, the open windows like blackened eyes staring back at you. The upper floor had surrendered to the elements entirely. Moss growing on the rooftop, trees slowly reclaiming the perimeter—it’s the kind of scene I’m always drawn to. Real decay. Real silence. Nothing about it was staged or prepped. Just the raw aftermath of abandonment.

And yet, there’s an eerie symmetry to it. The rows of windows. The architectural echo of colonial-era timber lodges. Even the destruction felt… deliberate. Nature’s version of design. That’s what caught my attention when I composed this shot—the balance between human order and organic chaos.

It’s easy to romanticize these places, but I see them as visual remnants of decisions: economic collapse, resource depletion, changing industries. This was likely built in an era when the coast bustled with promise—fishing, mining, maybe tourism. But when the people left, the building stayed behind, waiting for someone to care again. Or not.

This black and white treatment isn’t nostalgia—it’s clarity. It strips away the distraction of colour and lets you sit with the texture, the rot, the story embedded in the wood grain. That’s where the truth is. That’s where the emotion lives.

If you’re someone who sees beauty in deterioration and narrative in structure, this one’s for you. You can view more pieces that explore these ideas in my Forgotten Photography Collection or the more extensive Abandoned Photography Collection. Each image in those series captures a place that was once alive—now left to speak for itself.

© Dan Kosmayer, 2011