With grand buildings, subtropical climate and scenic location amid the forested hillsides of Georgia’s Black Sea coast, the resort city of Gagra was once known as the “Russian Riviera.”

At the turn of the 20th century, it was a getaway for wealthy tourists, anchored by a luxury hotel owned by aristocrat Duke Peter of Oldenburg. The duke built an opulent palace for himself nearby.

It is widely claimed that, shortly after the Soviet triumph, Lenin personally gave the order to convert this haven of the rich into a paradise for the proletariat. In the 70 years that followed, Gagra was to the USSR what Hawaii was to the United States, an exotic foreign kingdom located within its borders — all the sunshine you can handle and no need for a phrasebook.

Yet, almost immediately after the collapse of communism, this former playground of Czarists and lucky Soviet citizens became the scene of open combat and ethnic cleansing. Significant sections of the city were abandoned after the conflict came to an end in 1993, and since then have crumbled into an eerie ruin.

Russian photographer Oleg Slesarev visited Gagra to document the area’s scenic beauty, and to take a firsthand look at what remained of a place that had captured the imaginations of his parents and grandparents. While some inhabitants have returned and renovations have begun, Slesarev’s photos show a once-opulent paradise overrun by nature and and beset by decay.

Top photo: A gutted shopping mall overlooks the entrance to Gagra.

Bottom photo: Ruins of Zhoekvara Hotel in Old Gagra.

Gagra is split into two districts, Old and New, which are divided by the river Tsiherva. The city sits at the northern tip of Abkhazia, formerly a part of the Soviet Republic of Georgia. Abkhazia was home to large numbers of ethnic Georgians, who fought to keep Abkhazia within the Georgian state.

The ethnic group native to the region, the Abkhazians, rebelled against Georgian rule after the fall of communism. They demanded autonomy, and later independence, from the Georgia government.

In the summer and early fall of 1992, Gagra was the site of the largest battle in the war, with multiple offensives by both Georgian and Abkhazian troops and militias.

Fighting raged in Old Gagra, wrecking the city’s storied resorts. Abkhazian forces, backed by the Russian military, eventually gained the upper hand, a decisive moment in the conflict, which ended in the retreat of Georgian troops not only from Gagra but the whole of Abkhazia. As the Abkhazian military closed in, the Georgian population of Gagra fled en masse, fearing reprisals by the invading army.

According to photographer Oleg Slesarev, both New and Old Gagra are now “more alive than deserted,” as the Abkhazian population has returned. A few of the more modern resorts near Old Gagra have been revived, particularly those located directly on the beach. Slesarev reports that they have a poor “price/quality” ratio and attract a fraction of the tourists who flocked there in the past. The grand resorts of years past have gone to seed.

The center of New Gagra is dominated by bleak highrises built in the Soviet era, about half of which are occupied, according to Slesarev.

Above: A gondola cabin hangs abandoned on the Park-to-Spa line. The gondola line once carried visitors from Primorskiy (Maritime) Park to the nearby Skala Health Resort.

When it was operational, the gondola line had two cabins, the yellow one pictured above, and a red one that was blown up.

When the shooting stopped in 1993, Abkhaz forces had pushed out the Georgian military and declared Abkhazia a sovereign country. Human Rights Watch documented a large number of atrocities, including ethnic cleansing, perpetrated by both sides during the war.

Above: The bone-dry Three Graces Fountain stands in the pavilion in front of the mall.

According to a Soviet-era guidebook, “Gagra is one of the most beautiful resorts on the Black Sea coast. Pressed against the sea by a mountain ridge, it stretches along the beach of a mirror-like bay. Protected by mountains from cold continental winds and at the same time opening onto the warm sea, Gagra is one of the best places for relaxation in Soviet Union.”

The pastel colors and high ceilings inside the Gagra Cinema are reminiscent of pre-Castro Cuba, and are a reminder that Gagra was a tropical destination for Russian visitors.

Some parts of the Cinema’s interior are surprisingly intact, including the center of its stucco ceiling.

The exterior of the Gagra Cinema.

In the first years of the 20th century, Duke Peter of Oldenburg, a Russian aristocrat, built a palace (above) and a hotel in Gagra, and put Gagra on the map as a holiday destination for the wealthy. Both buildings were designed in art nouveau style, though many of the finishing touches have since disappeared from the dilapidated edifice.

The Soviet government nationalized the palace built by Duke Peter and converted it into the Hotel Chaika (Seagull), which maintained the air of an aristocratic refuge. However, during the war between the Abkhaz and Georgians, the Chaika was looted and has never been repaired.

The office of Duke Peter of Oldenburg looks out over the sea.

The Abaata Station was named for a fortress built in Gagra more than 1,000 years ago. A small section of the fortress’ wall is still standing near the Zhoekvara Hotel (shown on page 1). The area has been inhabited since ancient times, starting as the Greek colony of Triglite.

Interior of the Gagripsh Station, another of the city’s abandoned railroad depots.

One of the walkways of the Gagripsh Station.

The Zhoekvarskoye Ravine is a 15-minute walk from Old Gagra. Its shady groves are a good place to cool off during the noonday heat.

Visitors to Gagra can climb the mountains on foot trails or on horseback, and quickly reach the low waterfalls of the Zhoekvara River.

According to a Russian tourism company, “Old Gagra features the chic building of Gagripsh Restaurant with the clock (early 20th century). It was there that the opening of the resort was pompously celebrated by the Emperor’s family on January 9, 1903.”

Photographer Slesarev says the building was bought by the Duke of Oldenburg in Paris, disassembled and then shipped to Gagra. Originally, he says, a hotel that had been transported from Norway was located on the same property, but by the late 1980s it was falling apart and was subsequently demolished. The restaurant (above) is still operating, but according to the photographer, the food is terrible.

Sitting below the unappetizing Gagripsh is the pre-Soviet Primorskiy (Maritime) Park, still maintained but “slightly neglected,” says Slesarev, with “overgrown slime in the ponds.”

Currently, only Russia, Nicaragua, Venezuela and the tiny island nation of Nauru have recognized Abkhazia as an independent state. According to news reports, Nauru, a country known for exporting phosphate harvested from bird droppings, bartered its recognition of Abkhazia for $50 million in Russian financial aid.

Gagra’s future is far from certain. Investment is scarce and not likely to pick up in the near future, given the limited resources of the Abkhaz government and unease in the private sector about the volatile politics of the region. However, some of the resorts continue to operate near the balmy coastline and verdant mountains, an entrance to a lost city.

For those who grew up in Soviet era, Gagra was a precious refuge of pleasure inside communism’s bleak expanse. Now its ruins are a memento mori of poetic deterioration.

Above: View from the balcony of the palace of Duke Peter of Oldenburg.

Above: Exterior of the palace balconies.