During a three week holiday in Nelson with my family last Christmas, I took a gloomy afternoon to pay a visit to the old mental hospital up the Ngawhatu valley.
St Mary’s Orphanage operated on this site from 1886-1919. Ngawhatu Psychiatric Hospital operated from 1922 to 2000. The hospital was shut down in the year 2000 amid claims of patient abuse. For more reading on this creepy historic site (which many say is extremely haunted) head over to The Prow: http://www.theprow.org.nz
Below is my personal experience of exploring and photographing the site and grounds of the Ngawhatu Psychiatric Hospital:
Below is my personal experience of exploring and photographing the site and grounds of the Ngawhatu Psychiatric Hospital:
As there is no longer any vehicle access (the gated entrance at the bottom of the valley states “trespassers will be prosecuted”), I parked my car and crossed an empty subdivision to begin my journey up the derelict road.
The eerie feeling hits me right away, simultaneously feeling as though I am being watched yet absolutely alone. I am completely consumed by this uneasy emotional state, only thankful that I have my camera to keep me distracted.
There are plenty of condemned buildings and structures to loom out at me, leering as I walk cautiously by. The old swimming pool has been drained, and the only sounds are the thick trees moving in the wind and the occasional scuttle of small claws among the underbrush.
Next is what you see in my first image above. There is nothing subtle about this warning, and my imagination runs wild as to what might happen to me if I’m caught. By now there is not a single rational thought in my mind, and by the time I’ve happened across the first empty house (image five) I am near certain I will be chased or captured in a screaming fit, most likely by a demon or disgruntled ghost of a former patient.
There was no sense of relief even as I passed the caretaker’s house - the only building which is still inhabited. His shiny red MX-5 seems grey and dull in its surroundings, and a scarecrow watches as a scuttle by. It’s an unnecessary installation, as I’m sure even birds don’t venture up the haunted valley this far.
By now I’ve been walking for over half an hour. The only human for miles around, and I’m beginning to wonder if I should turn back. Only one person knows that I’m here, and there is a significant lack of cellphone coverage which only adds to the daunting feeling which overwhelms me.
As I ponder my situation, I catch a glimpse of a huge villa through the dense bush ahead. A derelict sign which states ‘Ngawhatu Bowling Club” does not convince me. I’m certain this is why I’m really here, and it’s definitely not a bowling club.
So as I pluck up the courage to continue, I finally see the first villa in all its formidable glory. The satanic graffitti does nothing to soften the foreboding impact which takes hold of me, sending shivers down my spine. As I snap my photographs, I take extra care not to look too long in any of the black windows, for fear of what I might see. My knuckles are completely white on my camera, and in my mind I thank the Canon manufacturers for crafting such robust equipment.
From there I quickly jogged up to the second villa, though due to the impending rain (could this get any more like a horror movie plot?!) I decided against any photos.
Of course, the journey back down the valley is no less ghastly than the walk up. By the time I’m almost back I’m practically jogging, and it isn’t until I get back in the car and start the engine that my heart stops pounding and I catch my breath.
As I drive home I think to myself, “fuck I hope there are no ghostly surprises when I go through and edit these photos”. So far I haven’t found any…
Can you?
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