Let’s get the obvious question out of the way: no, we didn’t see any ghosts.
I visited Consonno with a friend and his teenage daughter – because, why not? It was early July 2025, one of the first truly hot days of summer. I sweated non-stop the entire time.
A Brief History of Consonno
If you look up Consonno on Wikipedia or other corners of the web, you’ll find bits and pieces about its strange history – how it became known as the Città dei Balocchi (“City of Toys”) or the “Italian Las Vegas,” and how it eventually fell into ruin.
The dream belonged to a local entrepreneur, Mario Bagno. In the late 1960s, he bought the entire village, flattened everything except for a small chapel that still stands today, and built his own fantasy town – a surreal mix between a mountain resort and an amusement park. It had restaurants, shops, ballrooms, sports fields, hotels, and all sorts of quirky attractions.
But like many grand dreams built quickly, Consonno’s construction ignored both quality and the environment. The first landslide came just months after its grand opening in 1966, forcing quick repairs. A decade later, a second, more serious landslide cut off the main access road, sealing the town’s fate.
In an effort to keep the area alive, the former Hotel Plaza was converted into a retirement home in the mid-1980s and stayed open until 2007. When it closed, an illegal rave with over a thousand people took place just days later – and that was truly the end of Consonno.
Technically, it’s been a ghost town for less than twenty years, but it looks much older than that. Despite occasional local fairs and film shoots, the place feels forgotten – and honestly, it’s not exactly beautiful. Just haunting in a different way.
Urbex Experience
This was probably my first proper urbex (urban exploration) experience. Well, maybe not the very first.
As a kid, my friends and I used to explore an abandoned open-pit quarry filled with strange-colored water and slag from a nearby steel plant – which we also snuck into occasionally. That was long before the concept of “safety” existed in my mind. But you have to understand: I grew up hearing the legend of my uncles swimming there when they were young – although, to my defense, I never did that myself.
Like most abandoned places, Consonno is private property. The roads leading there are public, but most buildings are fenced off – or rather, were, since the fences are mostly torn down now – or simply covered in vegetation.
Still, I expected the place to be deserted. It’s a ghost town, after all.
It wasn’t. There were a few groups of teenagers on motorbikes, and even a Dutch family with young kids wandering around (I only knew they were Dutch because of their license plate). So, not the most “ghostly” atmosphere you could imagine – especially under the blazing afternoon sun.
Still, I’m glad I went. There’s a strange sense of nostalgia there – a feeling of having missed something that will never return. The decay is fascinating in its own way, though I suspect that within a decade nature will fully reclaim it.
Photography Notes
I didn’t find Consonno particularly photogenic, at least not in a way that suits my style.
I’m drawn to minimal, clean compositions – and Consonno is anything but. It’s chaotic, colorful, and cluttered; a collision between crumbling human structures and thriving nature. So, while I took some photos, none made it into my portfolio.
Final Thoughts
Consonno is one of Italy’s most famous ghost towns – and for good reason. It’s easy to reach and not overly dangerous if you’re reasonably cautious. That said, safety worsens with each passing month (and each rainfall). Trust your instincts, avoid buildings with sketchy floors, and definitely stay away from the tower. I’m also fairly sure some of the structures contain asbestos.
What I always say is especially fitting here.
Leave nothing but footprints, take nothing but photographs.