Urban Exploration - The Jean-Claude House

We received photos from a traveler and compiled them into a historical summary.

It was just a dot on a map, a potentiality—what we call "a check" in our urbex lingo. I can't even say it was a "scouting mission" for a spot spotted on Google Maps. Anyway, let’s move on. While preparing my journey, I noticed the building was buried in purely demonic vegetation. The neighborhood promised to be nothing less than ultra-present and oppressive. Would it be just a stupid barn and nothing else? Only one way to find out: get there.

Once on-site, the surprises were… many! The land had been entirely cleared, revealing a long, sprawling house. It’s for sale by a real estate agency, and the neighbors are on vacation (everything is shuttered). It’s noon, and the sun is beating down. Without a second thought, I park in the driveway and act as if I’m a prospective buyer.

Only the upper floor can be visited; the ground floor is locked. But was it even occupied? Because the house is "complete." The immediate question that arises is: how on earth can they sell this? It is in a ca-ta-stro-phic state.

The real estate ad? "Admittedly, it takes some imagination, but what would we be without projects? This iron gate opening onto a garden, the wisteria winding along the balcony, and the beautiful front door make you want to restore this building's charm. 4 rooms on the ground floor, 4 upstairs, 1,900 m² of flat, wooded garden with oaks and firs... Careful... You’ll fall in love!"

A regular Bavarian castle, at the very least! They provide no photos of the interior, and even less detail about the collapsing floors, the gutted roofs, and the deeply cracked walls. It’s 100% pure, devious scam-artist mode. Their photos show the land cleared, but it's already becoming a jungle again. Sure, with that much honesty, you're definitely going to sell.

The visit reveals that we are in the home of a local celebrity: Jean-Claude, born in 1938 in the village and deceased in July 2023 after a long illness.

Jean-Claude had a CV as long as a Black Forest highway. He was a mechanic for over thirty years and a true motorcycle enthusiast. Everyone appreciated his sense of hospitality, his kindness, and his helpfulness. His professional life was shared with a constant commitment to community associations. The list goes on: a member of the brotherhood of winemakers, former president of the festival committee, a great cook, a party-goer—a legendary character, in short.

International music festivals with brass bands, grape harvest festivals, "Stockfisch" nights, biggest grape-eating contests, folklore evenings, cabarets, dance competitions, the Miss Aveyron pageant—he must have been out and about almost all the time!

At his funeral, the church was packed, especially since in these quiet villages where everyone knows everything, no one was unaware that he was gnawed by the pain of his illness. This ordeal was softened by the presence of his partner, Monique, who looked after him with great love and tenderness.

Everyone who ever crossed paths with Jean-Claude remembers the image of a bon vivant, a man who loved to laugh and bring joy to those around him—or so they say. He is buried in a well-crafted family vault in the village cemetery. Had it been the season, I should have left him a bunch of grapes rather than flowers. That said, autumn is approaching, and the beauty of the landscape makes me crave a little impromptu rendez-vous.