Urban Exploration - The Caryatid Disco
We received photos from a traveler and compiled them into a historical summary.
This is an abandoned nightclub that I had known about theoretically for years. What more can I say: it was a simple dot on a map, nothing more—suspected of being an insipid, degraded place; in short, a total "no-go" for urbex. Moreover, the site is ultra-visible from the highway, and its abandonment is no longer just obvious: it’s a scream. The facades facing the highway are covered in tags; it is a total massacre.
The building was constructed specifically to be a nightclub, unlike some places that are converted houses or fashionable bars turned into discos. Consequently, the architecture is that of a "quick-build" semi-industrial style; one expects nothing more than empty hangars and extreme vandalism.
All this to say that the place is surprising, to say the least. When I step onto the dance floor, the realization hits: "Wait, it's this place?!" I had already seen this curious sight on "anti-social" media, and a sudden spark of joy appears: goodness, it has soul, and it’s beautiful!
The main dance floor features a large central statue that immediately sets the tone for the visit, but the real highlight of the show is to the right, in a darker room. All the colonnades are women in various erotic poses.
They give an impression of Ancient Greek inspiration. Are they Caryatids? Are they Danaids? Not at all—they are the creation of an artist who sculpted them from plaster exclusively for the opening of this nightclub. A feat, nothing less.
They are all unsettling, evoking a kind of attraction that feels dangerous. Behind them remains an elephant—still there, though ravaged by vandalism. The DJ used to play inside a large truck, which has now vanished for eternity.
In this place, one can only say that there was a mad inspiration here, leaving a pleasant aftertaste. The operators had a truly brilliant idea.
Today, the place is wide open, left to the most diverse kinds of looting—only too common in our poor, miserable society where nothing is respected anymore.
What we see today are the remains of a business that operated between 2002 and 2007. The manager had a grand vision and, in a burst of optimism, called upon the creative talent of a Disneyland decorator.
Their description of the "Danaids" is that of an Inca temple.
The establishment’s bankruptcy was due to a loss of patronage, stemming from several factors. Firstly, increased competition in nearby major cities (we are actually near a semi-dead secondary town). Secondly, as the manager explained: the setting was "too select." He explains that the nightlife world is very sensitive—a sentiment we can easily understand. Consequently, the filtering at the door was too strict. It’s a delicate balance.
A judicial liquidation was declared. A farm equipment business was interested in the land, but for reasons unknown, the deal never went through. Since then, the site has suffered from virulent abandonment for many years, giving vandals free rein. A great loss.
May this documentary—far too late, as it clearly shows—preserve the memory of this place’s epic journey.
