I have always found abandoned places fascinating, and beautiful in their own way. There’s something meaningful in what you can tell from the debris left behind by previous inhabitants. Exploring these places usually creates more questions than answers, and inspires in me a stirring of the imagination that is harder to find the further I get from childhood.

When I was living in Sydney, I walked past an abandoned house on my way to work, and knew I wanted to take a look. So I told Tom, always up for an adventure, and we checked it out. It didn’t disappoint. An overgrown lawn, a wooden heart-shaped decoration amongst the rubble, a broken mirror. Room after room of crumbled memories.

So when I heard that there was an abandoned hospital in the middle of NYC on an easily accessible island, I was immediately curious. 

Roosevelt Island is a narrow piece of land, about 2 miles long, between Manhattan and Queens. You can easily get the subway or an amazing view from the aerial cable car to it from Manhattan. The cable car is the same cost as a subway ride, or free if you have an unlimited metrocard. Incredibly, no one had mentioned this hidden gem to us before. 

Roosevelt Island has always been used for public services: a jail, a lunatic asylum, hospitals. But now, the last public building, the former Coler-Goldwater Hospital, has been sold off. We were lucky enough to see it before it is demolished. More on that later.

During the 1800s, the island was known as Blackwell’s Island and there was a mental asylum there known as the New York City Lunatic Asylum. At this time, an intriguing journalist named Elizabeth Cochrane (pen name Nellie Bly) feigned insanity in order to report first-hand on the poor treatment of women in the facility. She spent ten days there, and her eye-opening article (read from Chapter VIII on about the asylum), published in World, led to New York City spending a million dollars more each year on ‘the insane’.  She wrote:

“The insane asylum on Blackwell's Island is a human rat-trap. It is easy to get in, but once there it is impossible to get out.”

Luckily, she did get out. Unfortunately, the women she met (many of whom she felt were as sane as she was) were not so lucky. Her account of life in the asylum is horrific. Charles Dickens, who visited Roosevelt Island in 1842, said of it:

“everything had a lounging, listless, madhouse air, which was very painful”

While nothing of the asylum still stands except for the Octagon Tower, we were able to walk around the abandoned hospital, most recently known as Coler-Goldwater Hospital undisturbed. 

The hospital opened in 1939, originally as the Welfare Hospital for Chronic Disease. We learned, while researching online. that it was a dismal place that people only went as a last resort. It is likely that people came here not expecting to leave, and with no money to support themselves if they did. 

We had the opportunity to walk around the grounds and take photos undisturbed.

At this point, we ran into a security guard who had been hired by a company that had recently bought the land. He explained that they are planning to knock it down soon, and build a medical research facility. 

The guard told us it's extremely unnerving to be there at night, especially with the mortuary down in the basement. 

"My boss sometimes calls me up to do a double shift and I hang up on him. It's creepy as hell here at night."

We tried our best to convince him to let us inside, but he said he was under strict orders to keep everyone out. Furthermore, he couldn't fathom why we would want to spend any time in such a miserable place. Fortunately for us, he hadn't seen us earlier trying our best to get a window open and get inside (we failed).

I'm glad I got to see this place before it's demolished. 

We checked out the memorial for F. D. Roosevelt, and the wind nearly sent us into the East River. Shivering with cold, we made our way to the cable car.

There is a lot of history on this island. Although some terrible things happened here, or perhaps because of this, I think it should be remembered.

What do you think of abandoned places? Creepy as hell or fascinating? Share your thoughts below.

Okay, so we survived our first day of hitchhiking and were feeling pretty good about the next leg of the trip. In the morning, we walked directly out of the inn we’d slept at, held up our signs and put our thumbs out. It was exciting not knowing who we would meet that day.

After about ten minutes, a rental car with two guys pulled over: Nick and Jake.

Nick, who lives in Massachusetts, had surprised his son Jake that morning with a last minute father-son road trip. Jake had thrown some clothes in a bag and jumped into the car. They hadn't been driving long when they saw us.

“You guys just look like normal people,” Jake said. “That’s why we picked you up.”

We felt at home with them right away, passing around the maps to discuss where we all wanted to go. Nick stopped often to check out views of the beautiful coastline. 

Nick talked about his views on karma and quirks of fate. 

"I like to pay it forward," he said. 

He’d pull over and we’d all take pictures and soak up the stunning views.

The car was comfortable and they were friendly. Tom and I didn't realise that things were about to get better… way better. 

Mid-conversation, Jake pointed out a sign for dune buggies and quad bikes. He suggested we check it out, and Nick agreeably swung the car around and drove into the place. We soon learned that there were some huge sand dunes nearby. Jake was really excited about the prospect of quad biking the dunes.

“Dad, let’s do it!” 

Nick shrugged and the two of them got out of the car to speak to the manager. 

Out of sight, Tom and I looked at each other. “I guess we’ll just hang around and wait while they do it,” I whispered. We figured it was worth it to wait and get a guaranteed ride south, even if we did lose some time. 

Nick stuck his head back into the car. 

“Want to do it, guys? I’ll pay.”

We were flabbergasted. 
“We can’t let you do that,” Tom protested. 

“Come on, I’m generous,” Nick replied. 

We didn't need much encouragement. We got some helmets, jumped on a bike and rode them around the back to the dunes!

The dunes were huge, and to get up to the top you had to get a good run up, and then keep increasing speed until you were full throttle. If you eased off at all on your steep ride up, you wouldn't make it to the top: you had to really commit. 

It was seriously exhilarating!

Going down the steep faces of the dunes felt like going on a waterfall ride at a theme park… except that it’s sand, and you’re somewhat in control. I felt the adrenaline rush through me and grinned like a maniac.

Nick was wonderful. He treated me like a favourite niece, zooming around me and offering helpful suggestions. When I nailed it, he gave me a thumbs up. Jake showed us how to do doughnuts in the sand and raced around like a pro.

It was difficult to keep the handles still as my bike jumped along bumps at full throttle, and up a particularly steep dune, I could feel the handlebars moving a lot. I gritted my teeth and stayed at full throttle. 

Unfortunately, I flipped the bike and it landed on my leg. Oops.

But rather than scaring me, I felt relieved. What I'd feared had happened and all I had was a few bruises. Nick, Tom and Jake sped over to help lift the bike off me and checked I hadn't broken anything: human or mechanical. Apart from the little flag that shows where you are to other bikers, I was good to go. So I got back on, rode down the dune, and swung around to try again.

Except this time, I made it.

So, what do you think? Have we convinced you that it's worth it to trust people and say yes to adventure yet? Leave a comment! We would also love to hear about adventures that you've had when you put yourself out there.