Beyond Experience – Trianon’s Living Legacy (The Lost Cities #11)

One of the most important and overlooked moments in history occurs when the last person with direct experience of an historical event dies. One of the more memorable recent examples was when Florence Green, the last veteran of the First World War died. That meant there was no one left with living memory of a war that launched the 20^th century on its violent trajectory and changed the world forever. While the war officially ended 94 years before Ms. Green died, the living memory of it lasted up to her death in 2012. Only then, had the war truly become history in the past tense. There was no one left with military experience of the war. At some undetermined point not far into the future, the last civilian who had personal experience of the war would also have died. After that, everything about World War I comes to us second hand. The greatest primary historical sources known to us are gone forever. That also holds true for other events surrounding the war such as the Paris Peace Conference. That seminal event radically altered the borders of Eastern Europe. That legacy lives on today.

Border control – Austria-Hungary border in 1914 & 1920 (Credit: Richard Andree)

Living Link – A Lasting Legacy
You don’t know what you got until it’s gone. That is one cliché that has the ring of truth. My mentor, who was also a university history professor, told me that one of his former colleagues had been at the Paris Peace Conference as an advisor to the negotiators. He spoke of this colleague several times, always bringing up their attendance at the conference. There were no specific stories relating to his colleague’s work in Paris, but that was not really the point. Just knowing someone who had been in attendance was a source of fascination. Hearing about a living connection to such an important world historical event made the peace conference seem much closer. The usual black and white photographs found in history books communicate distance. A personal connection brings the past closer. Everything that happened in Paris seems more intriguing.

I was only indirectly linked to my mentor’s colleague, but I wanted to ask him many questions. What and who did he see at the peace conference? Did he have any idea at the time of what troubles would result from the treaties? Those questions cannot be answered because the man passed away long ago. A living link has been broken forever. Other legacies of the Paris Peace Conference are as alive today as when the treaties that resulted from the negotiations went into effect. Specifically, the Treaty of Trianon which partitioned the Kingdom of Hungary’s territory.  More than any of the other treaties negotiated at the peace conference, Trianon is the one that is still controversial. I have felt the tension of that controversy when traveling throughout the parts of Eastern Europe affected by Trianon. The legacy of Trianon was the reason I planned my itinerary for the lost cities beyond Hungary’s borders.

A sense of finality – Treaty of Trianon (Credit: C. Stadler/Bwag)

Obstacle Courses – Trapped by Trianon
We are not trapped within the past, as much as we are trapped by it. That is because history hems us in. We are wedded to the past and it is difficult, if not impossible, to find grounds for divorce. All the history that has ever happened created the world in which we now live. And in my case, the world in which I want to travel. This includes my itinerary for visiting the lost cities. The Treaty of Trianon’s legacy is written all over my itinerary because of borders and railway networks. For instance, planning a journey from Timisoara to Subotica turned into a logistical nightmare. One that I suffered from the comfort of an armchair in a climate-controlled home. I can only imagine how tiring the actual trip might be. In the 21^st century, all the obstacles of borders, different national railway networks, and schedules that lead to increasingly lengthy travel times feel unnecessary. I have read quite a few books and articles which cover the treaty making that led to the Austro-Hungarian Empire being carved up by the victors of World War I. Very little of that reading prepared me for just how much the Treaty of Trianon’s legacy still affects travel throughout the region.

Planning a trip to visit the lost cities should have been relatively simple. Well, it was at the turn of the 20^th century. Back then the lost cities were all connected with Budapest. That would not last as the nations that inherited the lost cities after Trianon hit the kill switch on parts of the Hungarian Railway Network which ran into their territories. The lines that still ran were at the mercy of border control which meant mind numbing delays. This not only hurt people, but it also dealt a terrible blow to the economies of Hungary and all the successor states as economic connections were severed. People, transport, and commodities had to be rerouted. Subotica would now look to Belgrade, instead of Budapest. The same was true for Timisoara, whose overlords were now in Bucharest. The list goes on. None of the successor states trusted Hungary and Hungary seethed with resentment. This was fertile ground for radical ideologies to take hold. 

Monumental memory – Trianon memorial in a Hungarian town (Credit: Laslovarga)

Opening The Border – An Uneasy Peace
Whether the changes wrought by Trianon made any sense or not, they would have staying power. The Second World War altered them momentarily, but afterwards the borders snapped shut with a vengeance. The changes have been permanent ever since then. Only membership in the European Union has slowly pried some of them back open again. That is still not the case with Hungary and Serbia, or Romania and Serbia. Even the Hungary-Romania border still has border control. Seventeen years after Romania became an EU member state it is due to finally be allowed in the Schengen Zone. That might help make following my itinerary to the lost cities a bit easier. One thing that will not is the continuing legacy of Trianon. I sometimes wonder what my mentor’s colleague saw at the Paris Peace Conference in 1919, perhaps the end of one world, and the beginning of a more insular one.

Coming soon: Magic Act – Subotica’s Starring Role (The Lost Cities #12)

Delayed Gratification – Finding The Way To Subotica (The Lost Cities #10)

Four years ago, I woke up on a snowless winter morning in Belgrade with one thing on my mind, catching a bus to Novi Sad in northern Serbia. The gentleman who drove me to the bus station owned the hotel in which I had stayed the previous night. He was a talkative, bombastic man who regaled me with stories about his family, respect for Tito, the state of the Serbian economy, and corruption in Serbia as compared to Romania. While discussing the latter, he also mentioned that when flying abroad for vacation he preferred to use Timisoara’s airport. I imagined what it must be like driving to another country for a flight. Border crossings tend to be slow and prone to unexpected delays. The way the man talked, this was not a problem for him and his wife. I assumed they had done it so many times that it was second nature. Familiarity can make a challenging situation easier to endure. That is especially when it comes to travel logistics.

Rolling stock – Train from Timisoara arriving at Jimbolia (Credit: Phil Richards)

Behind The Times – A Lack of Coordination
This was not the first time I had heard about travel between Belgrade and Timisoara. One of the first people I befriended while traveling in Bulgaria was an American who fell in love with the Balkans. He also happened to be a rail travel enthusiast. He looked for every opportunity to take trains. A year after we first met, he wrote to tell me about a recent journey back to the Balkans. After visiting Belgrade, his next destination was Timisoara. He wanted to see the city where the Romanian Revolution started in 1989. He assumed that it would be relatively easy to catch a train between the two cities since Belgrade is the Serbian capital and Timisoara a major transport hub only 150 kilometers to the northeast. It did not take him long to be disabused of that notion.

The fastest train between Timisoara and Belgrade takes four and a half hours. Delays at the border can make the journey even longer. Buses are not much faster. The Issue is exacerbated by Serbia not being in the European Union, while Romania is a member state. The possibility of smuggling prolongs wait times at the border. My friend decided to take a minibus that travels the route each day. I now wonder if the Serb I met in Belgrade does the same thing when he flies out of Timisoara. The minibus saves time and trouble.

The difficulty of traveling from Belgrade to Timisoara illustrates just how much borders delay travelers. They are a surmountable obstacle, but still a detriment to anyone unprepared for a prolonged journey. National borders make rail services less prolific because each country has their own national railways. Coordination is never easy. Some of the difficulties have been smoothed out since the Iron Curtain collapsed, but the issue is still there, and will be into the foreseeable future until Serbia becomes a member of the European Union. No one is holding their breath.

My friend’s trip from Belgrade to Timisoara comes to mind as I plan to travel in the opposite direction. My next port of call after Timisoara is the last lost city on my itinerary, Subotica, Serbia. My affinity for railway travel means I want to find a route that will get me there in a timely manner while enjoying a relaxing ride from the historical regions of the Banat and Vojvodina. I know from experience that this will not be easy. I had my own travel issues in Serbia four years ago when I wanted to make the journey from Belgrade to Novi Sad by train. Due to ongoing maintenance work on the line, I took a bus packed with university students. I would rather not repeat that experience because the only thing worse than a bus, is a crowded bus.

On the lighter side – Szeged Railway Station

Fringe Possibilities – On The Edge
Timisoara is on the western edge of Romania, Subotica is on the northern edge of Serbia. One similarity both cities share historically is that they were in the Hungarian administered half (Transleithania) of the Austro-Hungarian Empire. At the turn of the 20^th century traveling from Timisoara to Subotica would not have involved a journey to Belgrade. That was because the latter was part of the Kingdom of Serbia, the arch enemy of Austria-Hungary. Travelers from Timisoara would have made the journey to Subotica via Szeged. Now all three cities are in different countries rather than a single empire. Taking the same journey today requires two border crossings. The only thing more irritating than one border crossing is having to make two on the same day. Nevertheless, I decided to research a trip from Timisoara via Szeged to Subotica.  

The first leg of the trip takes a whopping six hours by train because there is no direct connection between Timisoara and Szeged. I would need to change trains in the small Hungarian city of Bekescsaba. Once in Szeged, the train to Subotica is direct and takes a much more merciful hour and a half. Another intriguing option is to take a three-hour bus journey between Timisoara and Szeged, then hop on another bus or switch to a train in Szeged. I did the bus journey between Subotica and Szeged four years ago in an hour. If all these logistical details seem confusing, welcome to the world that emerged from the collapse of Austria-Hungary. Efficient railway routes were one of the postwar World War I world’s greatest casualties in Eastern Europe.

Going back in time – Subotica’s Town Hall in 1912 (Credit: Fortepan)

Buried Treasures – Provincial Potential
I finally decided on a train from Timisoara to Subotica that does not go through Szeged. This requires a couple of transfers and hiring a taxi for the thirty-minute ride between Jimbolia and Kinkinda which are on opposite sides of the Romania-Serbia border. This will take me deep into the provincial heart of northern Serbia. As an added incentive, some believe the treasure of Attila the Hun is buried somewhere in this area. There are always new discoveries to be made off the beaten path. The best, and sometimes only way to make them, is by taking an inefficient route through backwaters in the northern Balkans.  

Click here for: Beyond Experience – Trianon’s Living Legacy (The Lost Cities #11)

Ghost Station – Timisoara’s Vanished Railway Depot (The Lost Cities #9)

I have always feared being late and I just discovered that I am eighty years too late. One of the best things about a train journey to Timisoara should be arriving at Temesvar-Jozsefvaros (Timisoara-Iosefin). Railway Station That will not be happening anytime soon or ever. The station was destroyed in 1944 during the fighting of World War II. Its replacement can hardly compare. Imagine, a UFO dreamed up by the minions of Romania’s communist dictator, Nicolae Ceausescu. That is Timisoara-Nord Railway Station as it stands today.  Nothing could be further from the French Renaissance style palace of transport that greeted arrivals to Timisoara by train for almost fifty years.

The neo-classical edifice opened in 1897 and offered a grand welcome for passengers. They entered and exited the station by walking through triple arched gates bookended by a pair of bastions. When Temesvar-Jozsefvaros was built, the Hungarian administered half (Transleithania) of the Austro-Hungarian Empire was at the pinnacle of its golden age. Judging by the station’s architecture, so was its designer, Felix Speidl. The Kingdom of Hungary had just celebrated the millennial anniversary of the Magyars arrival in the Carpathian Basin. Confidence was sky high. Temesvar-Jozsefvaros’ design reflected this optimism.

If there is one station that I would love to put on my itinerary for the lost cities beyond Hungary’s borders it would be Temesvar-Jozsefvaros. To see the station at the end of my journey from Oradea would be the equivalent of dreaming with my eyes open in broad daylight. My impression of the station is informed by a black and white photo taken in 1907. It shows men in suits and bowler hats, a horse drawn carriage waiting to whisk passengers from the station to their homes or hotels. If I stare at that photo long enough, I can imagine that I am looking back in time at one of those men who might be me. In such moments, I would love to have lived during that time. I am probably not the only one. 

Upon arrival – Temesvar-Jozsefvaros (Timisoara-Iosefin) Railway Station in 1907

Living In The Past – A Precarious Existence
There are lots of reasons not to live in the past. Life was precarious with backbreaking work and infectious diseases that resulted in life expectancy being much shorter than it is today. Anytime I imagine living in the past, I always see myself in prosperous circumstances with copious amounts of leisure time available to. This is a dream that would not survive first contact with historical reality. Many years ago, when I was living on the Great Plains in South Dakota, it was not uncommon to talk with people visiting the area for the first time who would express the wish that they could have lived in earlier times on family farms or ranches that dotted the area prior to the Great Depression. Those were supposedly the days when life was simple, people were wholesome, and the land provided them with everything they needed. A colleague of mine heard these kinds of comments and found them delusional. She did not want to live in the pioneering past because life was extremely hard.

People spent most of their time laboring to scratch out a living in circumstances that were difficult even in the best of times. They were in the fields from dawn to dusk. No matter how hard they worked, their livelihoods were at the mercy of the weather which could be extremely brutal. A hailstorm might wipe out a year’s worth of crops in a matter of minutes. I generally agreed with her sentiment. The farms and ranches that had survived in the area were a minority. A majority did not manage to eke out a living and left long ago. Life as it was lived in the past is not to be taken lightly. Misery was never far away. And yet there is a part of me that still sees the past as an ideal. Not on the Great Plains, but in Austria-Hungary. This is true, even if I know better.

Postcard perfect – Temesvar-Jozsefvaros (Timisoara-Iosefin)

Everyday Difficulties – The Sordid Underbelly
The development of an itinerary that would take me to the lost cities arose partly from a fascination, to live in the Austro-Hungarian Empire’s past. Passion and obsession can make people do strange things, like wanting to live in a past that was fraught with everyday difficulties. Earning a living was never easy. Rather than just trying to get by, many people were hoping to survive. I have had to remind myself that the lost cities and the world in which they existed are a cautionary tale. The cities were lost for a couple of reasons. The most obvious was that Hungary ended up on the losing side of a terrible war. The underlying issue was tensions between Hungarians and the many ethnic groups that inhabited the empire. This led to discrimination, violence, and vindictiveness on all sides.

As fascinating as I find Austria-Hungary, the idea of living during that time gives me pause. Most of the individual stories I know about people who lived in the empire were either aristocrats, famous writers and artists, or soldiers.  I have not tried hard enough to discover the dirty truth of Austria-Hungary’s history. I do not want to imagine myself living in a ramshackle hut on the puszta. or living in a ghetto while toiling in a factory on the fringes of a fetid city, or farming on a tiny plot of land at the pleasure of a large landowner. Instead, I see myself traveling around the empire, taking the time to admire the architectural embellishments of stations such as Temesvar-Jozsefvaros that were scattered throughout the empire. There are no worries about wealth or war, no realization of class distinctions and the sordid underbelly that plagues all rapidly growing societies. 

Pulling into the station – Train at Timisoara Nord Station (Credit: Phil Richards)

Dreams & Delusions – Just My Imagination
In my imagination, the future is bright, and life will only get better. I am living the good life in an empire filled with promise. The Temesvar-Jozsefvaros Railway Station was part of that promise. And then it vanished like a ghost for reasons I do not want to think about. The men in that old photo taken in front of the station led lives that I can barely imagine. They had hopes and dreams, many of which would soon be destroyed by war and treaties. Their reality bears little resemblance to my dream. In essence, my dream is a delusion. I will never arrive at Temesvar-Jozsefvaros for a simple reason. It no longer exists and neither does the world I want to be a part of.

Click here for: Delayed Gratification – Finding The Way To Subotica (The Lost Cities #10)

Clock Watching – Slow & Steady To Timisoara (The Lost Cities #8)

I cannot think of anything much sadder than the moment when I realize that a trip is closer to the end, than it is to the beginning. That realization came to me as I began to plot a path from Oradea to Timisoara. Now that I am into the final phase of developing my itinerary for the lost cities beyond Hungary’s borders, the journey is dying with every step forward. I do not want this itinerary to end, but like life, I know that the end is inevitable. That sounds depressing and it is, but getting closer to the end also offers opportunities. There comes a point when you have very little left to lose on a trip or in life. This can be liberating and life changing. In that regard, Timisoara has a lot to teach me because it is the lost city that found its way. In the process, Timisoara helped Romania find a path forward to a brighter future.

Taking it slow – Train at a station in Romania (Credit: Laur M)

Brighter Future – A Change In Fortunes
In December 1989, Timisoara was seething with tension. The same could said for the rest of Romania. The dictatorial regime of Nicolae Ceausescu had pushed the people to a point of no return by sucking the country dry of its resources to pay the country’s debt down to zero. The people paid for Ceausescu’s mad scheme. They stood in long queues for food, store shelves were barren of consumer goods, and heat was turned off for much of the winter. Romania was turning into a powder keg of suppressed resentment. The only needed was a spark to set off an explosion. This came in the form of public protest when the Ceausescu government tried to move Bishop Laszlo Tokes, a dissident pastor of the Hungarian Reformed Church in Timisoara. to a remote parish due to his criticisms of the regime. The city’s Hungarian minority began to protest, and Romanians soon joined them. The Securitate, Romania’s dreaded secret police, could not get control of the situation. The army was sent in to put the protests down. Shots were fired, some of the protestors were killed.

The unrest in Timisoara quickly spread to Bucharest. Within a week, Ceausescu had been ousted from power and put on trial with his wife. Both were executed by firing squad on Christmas Day. The situation in Romania did not immediately get better. Cronies from the regime still held onto power, but eventually they were ousted. The movement towards democracy and capitalism was the beginning of a better life for millions of Romanian citizens. Romania would become a member of NATO and the European Union. While the country still has plenty of problems (most notably corruption and depopulation), it has made incredible economic strides. The upturn in fortune has been particularly notable in Timisoara, where the Romanian Revolution began. The city has a booming economy with very low unemployment. Located along the western edge of Romania, logistics is one of Timisoara’s strong suits. The city is well-connected to surrounding regions. This makes getting to Timisoara from Oradea by train relatively easy.

Ready for Revolution – Demonstration in Timisoara 1989 (Credit: Fortepan/Tamas Urban)

Timetables – Regressive Tendencies
After the border crossings, transfers, and late-night train ride which were part of my travel plan from Uzhhorod to Oradea, the option of a direct train from Oradea to Timisoara comes as a relief. Unfortunately, public transport in Romania is never as easy as it seems. This tends to be most problematic when it comes to Căile Ferate Române, (CFR) Romania’s National Railway provider. It has been my experience that on-time arrival for trains in Romania is uncommon. The trains in Romania seem to run on their own time. I have spoken with several Romanians who confirmed that they have also experienced this time warp. One businesswoman who ran a hotel in Brasov said the trains were embarrassing and reflected badly on Romania. A student stuck on the same train as me in Medias, said that the interminable delay we were experiencing was typical. A clock with no hands could be an appropriate symbol for CFR. One railway journey I was on between Sibiu and Sighisoara took twice as long as scheduled. Then I had to do the journey in reverse later the same day. That experience prepared me to never be surprised at the slowness of travel on Romania’s railways. If you want to get somewhere fast in Romania, my recommendation is to rent a car.

If you love riding trains like I do, bring plenty of patience and plan for a snail’s pace journey. That is even the case on direct routes. The infrastructure is so degraded that one study found the trains run slower today (45 kilometers per hour on average), than they did over a century ago (50 – 60 kilometers per hour). According to the Romanian State Audit Office, an estimated 9,800 kilometers (out of 13,500 kilometers) have reached the end of their service life. This is why I was not surprised to discover that the railway journey from Oradea to Timisoara takes at least three and a half hours. That does not seem so bad when compared with a bus journey, which takes 15 minutes less, but would be twice as exhausting. Journeying by car clocks in at only two and a half hours. All things considered, the railway journey from Oradea to Timisoara is rather efficient. That is because they are western Romania’s two biggest cities. The railway line between them also goes through the third largest city, Arad. A good railway connection is an economic imperative for the region.

Late start- Looking out a train window in Romania

Trip Planning – Better Late Than Never
As far as finding the most efficient way of getting to Timisoara by train, slow and steady wins this race between tortoise and snail for me. I am looking forward to the trip to Timisoara since I will not have to make any transfers. A direct ticket leaving Oradea at 8:40 a.m. with an arrival time of 12:15 p.m. should get me there by lunch. Of course, I expect the train to be a little bit late so I will pack extra provisions. You never know how long riding the rails in Romania might take. Just plan to not arrive on time. Better later than never. A phrase that revolutionary Timisoara knows well. 

Click here for: Ghost Station – Timisoara’s Vanished Railway Depot (The Lost Cities #9)

Whisper To A Scream – The Door In Nagyvarad (The Lost Cities #7)

I am pondering which I prefer more? The haystack or the needle. The haystack is easy to find and readily accessible. The needle holds the potential for discovery. The haystack is where I start, the needle is where I hope to finish. Oradea is the haystack. Inside of it, I am searching for Nagyvarad. Some might say they are the same, the only difference is a matter of linguistics. I say they are not. The difference between Oradea and Nagyvarad is the difference between the 21^st century and the early 20^st century. Between Romania now and Austria-Hungary then.

Up until the end of World War One, Oradea was known as Nagyvarad. An overwhelming majority of the inhabitants were ethnic Hungarians. This demographic situation was the inverse of Oradea today, where three-fourths of the inhabitants are Romanians. Oradea has shaken off the dreadful legacy of the Ceausescu era and is a city on the rise. Much of the city center has been restored to its prewar appearance when Nagyvarad enjoyed a golden age. That age was swept away by the First World War and Treaty of Trianon, but Oradea preserves many of its remnants. That makes it a teleportal to Nagyvarad’s past. For that reason, Oradea is the epicenter for my itinerary to the lost cities beyond Hungary’s borders.

Portal to a lost world – Door to a mansion in Oradea (Nagyvarad)

Armchair Activity – Plotting A Path
The impetus for developing an itinerary for travel to the lost cities is to visit Oradea (Nagyvarad), Timisoara (Temesvar), Subotica (Szabadka), Bratislava (Pozsony), Kosice (Kaschau), Eisenstadt (Kismarton), and Uzhhorod (Ungvar) all on a single journey, rather than piecemeal as I have done in the past. Figuring out the logistics of this trip can seem almost as difficult as the actual journey. Currently, this trip is hypothetical. An armchair activity that has me studying maps, and transport timetables. The fact that most of the journey will take place along the same routes that citizens of the Austro-Hungarian Empire traveled adds an element of historical verisimilitude. And that is the way it should be.

This journey was inspired by the early 20^th century history of Austria-Hungary up until and just after its disintegration. Each of the lost cities is replete with remnants from that time. One of those remnants inspired the idea for this itinerary. Eight years ago, I visited Oradea on a day trip. Five hours in the city was nowhere near enough time to take in anything more than a semblance of its many faded charms. My only hope was that some part of Oradea would remain with me. That it did, to the point that it inspired the lost cities itinerary.

Thus far, I have plotted my way through Eisenstadt, Bratislava, Kosice, and Uzhhorod. Now, I have found my way to Oradea. Not in body, but in spirit. The journey from Uzhhorod only took 14 hours and 14 minutes, including a long layover in Puspoklodany, A memorable name, an unmemorable place.  I should now be planning how to get to my next travel stop in Timisoara, but first I must revisit the one object that means more than any other to me in Oradea. A door that acts as the entrance to Nagyvarad for me. That door is the ultimate portal to this lost cities’ past. It was almost certainly manufactured and installed during the Austro-Hungarian Empire (1867 – 1918)

Palatial past – Old mansion in Oradea (Nagyvarad)

Sad & Splendid – On The Outside Looking In
Nagyvarad’s development soared after the Dual Monarchy was formed in 1867. At that time, the population was 25,000, by 1910 it had grown to 64,000. Along with this growth, the city became wealthier with many fine buildings constructed. These are not just the magnificent churches, and resplendent architecture of government buildings still found in the city center today. There are also fine palaces and mansions guarded that line the streets. They have the look of withered nobility about them with rusted wrought iron gates, dust frosting the windows, and cracked facades that refuse to be shattered by time or the tempests that mankind has inflicted upon them.

Along one of Nagyvarad’s streets I found my metaphorical needle in a haystack. There was a single door so weathered from neglect that I could not help but stop and stare at it. I saw something in that door unlike anything I have seen before or since in the lost cities. That door called for me to come closer and make a memory out of it that would last longer than my lifetime. The door had been battered by indifference. It was an orphan left guarding the entrance to a family mansion where no one was home. Looking at it made me feel sad and splendid. The artists who had designed it, the craftsmen that embellished it, the painters who lovingly coated its wooden parts in cream, could never have imagined just how beautiful the door would become as it aged and withered. I was looking into a window and the Austro-Hungarian Empire was staring back at me. 

Ready for restoration – Austro-Hungarian era building in Oradea (Nagyvarad)

Broken Promises – A Symbolic Gesture
I found the essence of Nagyvarad and all the lost cities in the door.  It is a rendering of the city’s history, past, present, and future. The door stands as a testament to a golden age gone wrong, a present that cannot rid itself of the past, and a future filled with broken promises. As I write this, a decade has passed since the December day when I stood in front of the door. I have stacks of history books on the shelves before me. They contain thousands of pages on Austria-Hungary and not one of those pages tells the empire’s story as well as that door in Nagyvarad.

The door is a symbol of beauty, love, and pride. Depravity, gloom, and tragedy. Redolent of a time and place so strong that it can communicate across generations. The door has a whisper that builds to a scream, The entire history of Austria-Hungary, from the greatest heights to its decadence, decline, and disintegration, is written all over the door. Scholars should come to study the door. More than likely, they will ignore it. That is such a shame. As are so many things that stand for the sake of history. 

Click here for: Clock Watching – Slow & Steady To Timisoara (The Lost Cities #8)

The Long Haul – An Exhausting Journey To Oradea (The Lost Cities #6)

If you ever want to amuse yourself with a slightly sadistic activity, I highly recommend the travel journey planning website Rome2Rio. Type in your points of departure and arrival, then wait for a couple of seconds as the website works its magic. The site will give you train, bus, and car options to any destination they desire. These can be a source of fascination, especially when transfers are involved. Any search between two places that cannot be reached with a non-stop service will result in numerous options, some of which are scarcely viable unless you are willing to endure extreme fatigue.

I found one particularly exhausting option while searching for the most efficient way to travel between Uzhhorod and Oradea for my Lost Cities beyond the Hungarian border itinerary. There is no non-stop train service between the two cities. The fun really began as I looked through the options that were offered. One that got my attention was “Train via Biharkeresztes” because it offered the shortest travel time. I did not have the slightest idea of where Biharkeresztes was located other than in Hungary. Clicking on the option revealed a nightmarish itinerary that made me want to book my tickets just to see if I was up to the challenge. 

On-time arrival – Train from Puspokladany arriving in Oradea (Credit: Boldizsar Sipos)

Beyond Midnight – Ready For Departure
My fascination with a potential journey via Biharkeresztes began when Rome2Rio showed that it would take eight hours. I sighed. While I expected a lengthy travel time due to the lack of a direct connection between Uzhhorod and Oradea, seeing an eight-hour journey listed as the first option, made me realize the difficulty of getting between the two cities in a timely manner. There was no getting around the fact that this leg of my itinerary would take most of a day. Little did I know that the time given did not include transfers and waiting at stations. When I investigated the option further, I saw that the entire trip would take 14 hours and 14 minutes. I was astonished to learn that the details revealed the trip would be even tougher than the amount of time it took. I would spend two-fifths of the time waiting in stations, part of it in the dead of night at a station in the Hungarian town of Puspokladany.

Public transport stations late at night and in the earliest hours of the morning are something I generally avoid while traveling in Eastern Europe. For that matter, I try to avoid them anywhere I travel in western Europe or America. A railway or bus station around midnight or thereafter is an invitation for trouble. While I have never noticed any violent criminal element in the evening at stations I have frequented in Eastern Europe, the possibility is always there. After the sun goes down, there is usually a noticeable increase of seedy characters that look ready to commit petty theft at stations. In my opinion, they are more of a danger to someone’s belongings than they are to passengers, but why tempt fate unless it is absolutely necessary. My late-night experiences at stations are limited so I am no authority on the matter. The most memorable of these turned out to be completely benign.

Awaiting arrivals – Puspokladany Train Station (Credit: Tony Fekete)

Nocturnal Travel – A Marathon Journey
I arrived not long before midnight on my first visit to Lviv in western Ukraine. I went into the main hall expecting it to be deserted. Instead, I found a large crowd awaiting arrivals or departures. The worst thing I encountered on that occasion were the taxi drivers. In Eastern Europe, it does not matter if it is morning, noon, or midnight, the taxi drivers are always prepared to fleece foreigners. They haunt arrival areas in railway and bus stations waiting to confront bleary eyed travelers. In Lviv, the taxi drivers were no real danger to anything other than my wallet. Despite coming through this experience unscathed, I am still reluctant to take my chances by hanging around in a public transport station late at night. Nonetheless, this is sometimes unavoidable. For example, the journey from Uzhhorod to Oradea.

If I was to take the timeliest train option that Rome2Rio provided me, I would find myself waiting in a railway station late at night. The marathon journey begins at Uzhhorod in the late afternoon. That time of departure is never a good sign if you are traveling across three countries with three different languages while navigating two border crossings. This would surely be enough to induce plenty of stress. That might help me stay awake during what would be a long day’s journey deep into the night. One positive would be gaining an hour after crossing into a different time zone from Ukraine to Hungary. One negative would be losing that same hour after crossing from Hungary into Romania. Traveling is never easy in the remoter reaches of Eastern Europe. The toughest part comes when making a transfer at Puspokladany in eastern Hungary. The problem is that the train arrives there at 8:33 p.m. followed by a four and a half hour wait. I have made transfers at Puspokladany before. The station is in excellent condition and safe. Still, spending a considerable amount of time there long into the night is less than ideal.

Somewhere down the line – Beside the platform at Puspokladany (Credit: Tony Fekete)

On-Time Arrival – Before The Break of Dawn
The train from Puspokladany to Oradea does not leave until 1:01 a.m. This is a sleeper train traveling between Budapest and Brasov. I would be at risk of falling asleep on this train. There are worse things in travel than missing a long-awaited stop and waking up in Transylvania. One of them happens to be trying to stay awake all the way to Oradea where the train arrives at 4:17 a.m. That just might be late enough that all the miscreants and ne’er do wells have either passed out, stolen their quota of cigarettes, or gone to bed. I would be left searching for a bed of my own while wandering the streets of Oradea a couple of hours before dawn. Is there anything worse than those final hours of the early morning before dawn? I am not sure, but I intend to find out. This might not sound like fun, but it is an adventure.  

Click here for: Whisper To A Scream – The Door In Nagyvarad (The Lost Cities #7)

Time Management – A Race Against The Clock To Oradea (The Lost Cities #5)

There are the trips not taken, the routes not followed, and the timetables that cannot be worked out. I rarely write about my stillborn sojourns. It is painful to recall aborted plans that started with hope and ended in hopelessness. These chances not taken can be summed up as an inversion of the famous Sinatra lyric from My Way, “Regrets, I’ve had a few…too few to mention” into “Regrets, I’ve had many, too many to mention.” My way ended up being the wrong way.

What worries me the most about my itinerary for the lost cities beyond the borders of Hungary is that it will never come to fruition. That is why I have tried to trick myself into believing the itinerary is for armchair travel only. Nevertheless, my underlying and unspoken aspiration is to make this dream become reality. The reason it might not is a matter of time. As I plan this potential journey, I am becoming acutely aware just how much time plays a part in the choices I make while traveling in Eastern Europe.

Managing time – Oradea City Hall Tower

Road Weary – Crossing The Upper Tisza
There is Eastern Europe, and then there is far Eastern Europe. I define the latter as places in the region that are remote from the popular tourist routes. The westernmost stretch of the Ukraine-Romania border is one of them. I consider this to be the wildest of the wild east.  This is not just because of both countries’ association with some of the most volatile European history since the beginning of the 20^th century, it is also because a stretch of the border is naturally demarcated by the Upper Tisza River. When I learned this a decade ago, it astonished me. My image of the Tisza had been informed by numerous crossings of the river on the Great Hungarian Plain. I had always thought of the Tisza as a broad, languid river flowing through flat land as it heads south to feed the Danube. That was until I saw photos of the Upper Tisza along the Ukraine-Romania border that showed a narrower, faster flowing river. The photos led me to daydream about one day crossing this natural border.

While developing my Lost Cities itinerary, I thought that there might be an opportunity to cross the Upper Tisza when I traveled from Uzhhorod to Oradea. That was until I looked closely at a map and noticed that the Ukraine-Romania border was to the southeast of Uzhhorod, whereas Oradea was directly to the south. Trying to find a way to cross the Upper Tisza between Oradea and Uzhhorod would require a detour. On the map, this detour did not look that difficult, but railways in the area are few. Roads are often the only option. I have been on enough to-lane highways in Ukraine and Romania to know that traveling on them is time consuming due to their narrowness and condition. Despite these drawbacks, I researched a potential trip routed through the small city of Satu Mare in northwestern Romania.

The place to be – Satu Mare Railway Station in 1911
(Credit: Brück & Sohn Kunstverlag Meißen)

Clock Watching – Taking My Time
Bus travel in the remoter reaches of Eastern Europe is often the only means of transport. That is the case for anyone looking to get from Uzhhorod to Satu Mare. It requires two potentially exhausting bus rides. That is followed by a three-hour train journey between Satu Mare and Oradea. All this adds up to at least a twelve-hour journey. Timeliness is not the strong suit of public transport in Romania. Neither is a border crossing from a country at war, to one that is a member of the European Union. Specific travel times are rendered meaningless. The best that can be hoped for are rough estimates of arrival times. In this context, a couple of hours can easily double. For this potential journey, time was working against me.

Sitting in an armchair months or years away from an actual trip between Uzhhorod and Oradea, it is easy for me to delude myself into believing anything might be possible. Pushing the boundaries of endurance is appealing from a distance. I know from experience just how different reality can be, especially when bus travel is involved. I love riding on trains because I find even the worst ones to be more comfortable and relaxing than traveling on a bus. The trains I have been on in Ukraine and Romania are slower than buses, but they have everything else to recommend them. For instance, on a train I can stretch my legs while not worrying about the numerous near misses that occur on bad roads with drivers who love to risk everyone’s life. Furthermore, I do not have to sit in cramped quarters among fellow passengers whose clothes are permeated with the smell of cigarette smoke. Avoiding these annoyances makes the slower pace of train travel more tolerable.

There is also the historical accuracy that comes with train journeys to the lost cities on my itinerary. When Uzhhorod and Oradea were known as Ungvar and Nagyvarad in Austria-Hungary, those who traveled to them would have done so by train. Contemporary railway lines still follow much of the network laid down by the Hungarian National Railways network during the last half of the 19^th century. Taking trains offers me an opportunity to follow the exact same routes in many cases. I am seeing the same landscape, as citizens of the empire saw it over a century ago. It is possible on these journeys to relive a semblance of the past while traveling at the same speed as citizens of the empire did long before me.

A New Direction – Puspokladany Railway Station (Credit: Aspectomat)

Mental Sanity – A New Direction
My love for train travel led me to decide that my best bet for efficiency and mental sanity will be to travel in a straight shot south from Uzhhorod to Oradea. This will not be easy. Traveling through rural areas that have changed little since the days of Austria-Hungary takes patience. The one thing that has changed is national borders. This inevitably leads to delays. Add to that, the usual issues with poor infrastructure found in some of the poorer parts of Eastern Europe and my journey from Uzhhorod to Oradea will either be an adventure or a nightmare. In this case, probably both. I began researching more straightforward and expedient options for the journey. This led me in another bizarre direction, the town of Puspokladany in eastern Hungary.

Click here for: The Long Haul – An Exhausting Journey To Oradea (The Lost Cities #6)

Difficult Destination – The Journey To Uzhhorod (The Lost Cities #4)

There comes a time when I am developing a travel itinerary that fear takes hold and threatens to stop me from visiting the one place that is integral to the whole plan. In this case, that place happens to be Uzhhorod. That small city on the southwestern edge of Ukraine, a stone’s throw from Slovakia, and within a short drive of Hungary is my challenge, my obstacle, and my opportunity. The lost cities itinerary I have spent the past several days developing is now dependent upon an obscure city that kingdoms, empires, and nations have inherited, but never really knew what to do with it.

Uzhhorod is an outlier. Look no further than the fact that its location has helped it escape the worst of a horrific war. Uzhhorod is as hard to grasp as it is to access. A city that I have previously avoided because I did not have the time nor the energy to visit it, a city that has the most multiple personalities in its disorders, a city whose history is a mixed-up mumble jumble of ethnicities, languages, nationalities, and cultures that it defies logic. A city that adds another layer of complexity to my lost cities beyond the Hungarian border project. A city that has been lost to every entity that has tried to claim it since the turn of the 20^th century. A city that represents a place not only on the map, but inside of me. And now Uzhhorod has come back to baffle me.

Palatial transport – Uzhhorod Railway Station (Credit: Elke Wetzig)

Magical Thinking – Tendencies To Avoidance
Buses, I hate them. Border officials, I fear them. Transfers at train stations, I loathe them. These are the barriers that are causing me consternation as I try to find the best way to Uzhhorod. This should not bother me as much as it does. I love challenges. I am not so sure I love multiple challenges. Kosice to Uzhhorod is not an easy journey, even if there was no war going on in Ukraine. No trains travel there directly. The best routes I have found are indirect ones which require confusing acts of avoidance followed by unavoidable obstacles. My first mistake was to assume I could somehow make this journey easy on myself. Easy would mean straightforward. In the best of all worlds, I would find a train (always my preferred method of travel) from Kosice to the border. Then I could take a quick transfer by taxi into Uzhhorod. I discovered that is impossible.

That did not keep me from descending into the realm of magical thinking with a train taking me straight from Kosice to Uzhhorod. Never mind the different railway gauges, never mind border control, never mind the war going on, never mind reality, never mind that in these war-torn times almost everyone is heading in the opposite direction. My absurd railway fantasies were stillborn not long after they were first formulated. And still I kept thinking this should be so easy. Two major regional cities, Kosice and Uzhhorod, not very far apart, should somehow be connected. What I failed to take into consideration was that nothing had been easy here since the start of World War I had been through endless upheavals. The tumultuous times have occurred with such frequency that it is almost as though they have been institutionalized.

Made for waiting – Cierna nad Tisou Railway Station (Credit: Matijak)

Taking Sides – On The Brink
After being brought to the brink of depression by the lack of a straight shot between Kosice and Uzhhorod, I decided on the most sensible course of action. I would do whatever it takes to get there. The two travel options I found were not exactly appealing. The first was to get a bus from Kosice to the Slovakia-Ukraine border. That sounded rather simple, until I learned that it took four hours and ten minutes to cover less than one hundred kilometers. I did not even bother exploring that one further because all I could imagine was a rickety bus, belching out diesel fumes, while trying to dodge planet sized potholes That might sound like an exaggeration, but no more of an exaggeration than a bus traveling an average speed of 50 kilometers per hour all the way from Kosice to Uzhhorod.

The most difficult destinations to access are often the most rewarding. By that standard, Uzhhorod should be positively sensational, though at this point I am having my doubts. I will be thrilled if I can get there in the least stressful and most straightforward manner possible. I did manage to find a way of avoiding buses, but there is going to be no way of getting around border control. The journey will consist of first taking a train from Kosice to Cierna nad Tisou. I found the name of the latter more wonderful than the idea of changing trains there. From Cierna nad Tisou, I will take another train onward to Chop, which is where the official border crossing into Ukraine is located. Chop, as a name, always sounds so strange to me. I know from experience that the name is nothing to laugh at because the border officials there are very serious. I have spent many hours at rail sidings in Chop while train cars were modified for a different railway gauge. This was a small price to pay for a journey to Lviv in western Ukraine.

A beautiful past – Postcard of Ungvar (Uzhhorod) during the Austro-Hungarian Empire (Credit: Old Ungvar)

Obstacle Course – Waiting On The Border
At Chop, there will be a second train transfer for the trip onward to Uzhhorod. The only thing more difficult than this minor odyssey will be plotting my next route into Romania. Three lost cities – Kosice, Uzhhorod, and Oradea – in succession, each of which are in different countries. Most things in the lives of Eastern Europeans have gotten easier since the Iron Curtain collapsed, travel is not one of them. Neighbors in this neck of the woods are not very neighborly when it comes to crossing borders. Traveling from Slovakia to Ukraine and Ukraine to Romania still requires passing through tight border control. I wish that the situation was different, but it is not likely to change for the better until the ongoing Ukraine-Russia War is resolved. That resolution keeps getting pushed ever deeper into the future. That means longer waits for anyone hoping to visit the lost cities.

Click here for: Time Management – A Race Against The Clock To Oradea (The Lost Cities #5)

Eastern Questions – Plotting Paths To Kosice & Uzhhorod (The Lost Cities #3)

Budapest, Vienna, and Prague. Those three cities are as far eastward in Europe as most foreign visitors are likely to get. An argument can be made that none of those cities are even in Eastern Europe. Vienna and Prague see themselves as part of Central Europe. Budapest is close to the midpoint of Europe. As for Eastern Europe, it starts somewhere beyond those three cities. For purposes of my journey to the lost cities of Hungary, Eastern Europe could be said to start the moment I leave Bratislava and head eastward into the heart of Slovakia. This is a land little known to westerners, but of endless fascination for those who dare to visit it. Even from an armchair halfway across the world, I feel my pulse begin to quicken as I plan a journey into a remote and fundamentally different region of Eastern Europe. Whereas Vienna, Prague, and Budapest seem to enjoy being perpetually preserved in the past. The lost cities next on my itinerary have never been able to escape it.

The old and the new – Kosice (Credit: Draco)

Internal Affairs – Getting To Kosice
I find it strange to think that Bratislava and Kosice, the two cities which dominate the western and eastern halves of Slovakia today, were officially known as Pozsony and Kassa not so long ago. Other than Transylvania, Bratislava and Kosice were the greatest losses suffered by Hungary in the post-World War I Treaty of Trianon. Pozsony had become the coronation capital for Hungarian kings after the Ottoman Turks occupied much of Hungary, Kassa was home to one of the most magnificent cathedrals in Europe that housed the tomb of Ferenc Rakoczi, who led Hungary’s war of independence in the early 18^th century. As I continue to plan my itinerary for the seven lost cities found just beyond the current border of Hungary, Bratislava and Kosice loom the largest. Because of their importance, they have ample rail connections. For example, Bratislava is just an hour and 14 minutes by train from the previous stop at Eisenstadt in eastern Austria. Best of all, I can sidestep Vienna on that short journey. I would much rather see the countryside of the Burgenland (formerly West Hungary) than pass through the busy railway stations and urban sprawl of Vienna. 

Traveling onward from Bratislava to Kosice will be more time consuming due to the distance between Slovakia’s two largest cities. The average train journey between them takes five and a half hours. This raises an interesting point. The only time I traveled to Kosice was over a decade ago on a same day round trip from Budapest. That journey took three and a half hours. This is an hour and a half faster than the journey between Bratislava and Kosice. The railway network in Hungary was created with Budapest as its main hub. Long before Kosice was connected to Bratislava, the city’s first railway connection opened in 1860 via Miskolc, in what is today northern Hungary. The line I took on my first trip to Kosice followed this same route. The difference is that it now crosses the Hungary-Slovakia border.

Fortunately, there is no longer a delay for border control between Hungary and Slovakia since both are members of the European Union and Schengen Zone. The border still exists, waiting to cross it does not. It is also interesting to note that I could take a train from Bratislava to Budapest and then Budapest to Kosice in just over six hours, not including time to switch trains. That is not much longer than it takes to travel directly from Bratislava to Kosice. The reason for this goes back to the Austro-Hungarian Empire where railway lines that ran to, through or from Budapest were given top priority. Travel from Pozsony (Bratislava) to Kassa (Kosice) prior to World War was between two provincial cities. Nevertheless, I prefer a non-stop train from Bratislava to Kosice. This will allow me to see the countryside of central Slovakia, always a delight in a country known for its splendid nature.

Point of arrival – Postcard of Kosice Railway station in the 1920’s

Isolationism – Neither Here Nor There
The next lost city on my itinerary after Kosice is an outlier that will make the journey more difficult and fascinating. Uzhhorod is not on the Eastern European travel circuit. When it was part of the Austro-Hungarian Empire, Uzhhorod was known by its Hungarian name of Ungvar.  The city was then, as it is today, a geographical oddity, located in a neither here nor there netherworld. Uzhhorod is on the southwestern edge of Ukraine. The Carpathian Mountains separate it from the rest of the country. This has made it a safe haven during the Ukraine-Russia War. Uzhhorod has little strategic military value. The city has changed hands from Austria-Hungary to Czechoslovakia to the Soviet Union to Ukraine since World War I. And yet it remains as isolated as ever.

Uzhhorod is not far from Ukraine’s borders with Slovakia and Hungary. Historically, the city has more in common with Hungary and Slovakia than it does Ukraine. That should make it easier to access, but it doesn’t. The Ukrainian border is where the European Union comes to an end. This makes crossing over it more difficult. An added issue is that Ukraine uses a different railway gauge then its western neighbors. For those who choose to ride the rails, this means getting off one train and boarding another or waiting for a couple of hours as the train’s undercarriage is switched to fit the narrower gauge rails. There is the additional complicating factor of the Ukraine-Russia War.

Object of desire – Uzhhorod (Credit: Ekaterina Polischuk)

Going Nowhere – Challenge & Opportunity
Getting to Uzhhorod from Kosice will not be easy. Nothing worth doing ever is. I have never been there before, mainly because it is on the way to nowhere. This makes Uzhhorod the quintessential lost city. In the past, I could never really make it part of a multi-stop journey. I imagined it as a one-off, the end of a line that I either bypassed or avoided. An obscure destination that I could not fit into an existing journey. That is no longer true. My goal of visiting the lost cities of Hungary means that I must visit Uzhhorod. The only problem is the best way to get there. That is the challenge. It is also an opportunity.

Click here for: Difficult Destination – The Journey To Uzhhorod (The Lost Cities #4)

Retro Rail Ride – From Budapest to Eisenstadt & Bratislava (The Lost Cities #2)

The borders changed, the bureaucrats changed, the demographics changed, the economies changed, the politics changed, the names changed, the official languages changed, the centuries changed and still Budapest remains, as it did at the turn of the 20th century, the hub for anyone looking to reach the lost cities just beyond the borders of Hungary. In the last half of the 19^th century, Hungarian National Railway’s network of lines was developed with Budapest as the epicenter. That remains largely true today for the cities which were once part of the Kingdom of Hungary. The old cliché “the more things change, the more they stay the same” still applies in this case. Those traveling to the lost cities are likely to find themselves starting in Budapest. That is where my own journey to the lost cities now begins.

Ready to roll – Dawn at Budapest Nyugati (Western Railway Station)

Border Complications – National Insecurities
The shortest distance between two points is said to be a straight line. The shortest distance between the early 20^th century and the lost cities of Oradea (Nagyvarad), Timisoara (Temesvar), Subotica (Szabadka), Pozsony (Bratislava), Kosice (Kaschau), Eisenstadt (Kismarton), and Ungvar (Uzhhorod) is at the three railway stations (Nyugati – western/Keleti – eastern/Deli – southern) in Budapest. Many things have changed, and some stayed the same since the early 20^th century regarding the lost cities. Rail connections are one of them. While Budapest is still the best place to begin any journey to all seven lost cities, national borders cause complications. These are a legacy from the aftermath of World War I when border control inhibited pre-existing rail routes. It took 84 years, accession to the European Union and Schengen Zone for borderless travel between Hungary, Austria and Slovakia. This is also slated to happen with Romania when it becomes part of the Schengen Zone in 2024. Unfortunately, the same cannot be said for Serbia and Ukraine. Borders are always complicating factors, the ones between Hungary and its neighbors still act as irritants for the traveler. The situation has improved, but it is still an obstacle the traveler must have overcome.

The complications of borders were expected after the Treaty of Trianon went into effect on June 4, 1920. The nations which had gained the lost cities were suspicious of Hungary’s future intentions toward them. Even with large numbers of Hungarians migrating out of the lost cities and into the newly constituted Republic of Hungary, there were still large numbers of Hungarians that were the cause of consternation for Romania (formed in 1866), Yugoslavia (formed in 1918), and Czechoslovakia (formed in 1918), Austria was a different matter altogether, but it too eyed Hungary warily. Better to make travel between these nations and Hungary more difficult. Borders were a form of security. Judging by the coming of another world war, they were not a very good one.

Awaiting arrivals – Eisenstadt Railway Station

Living On The Edge – Burgenland & Bratislava
As any traveler does before setting out on a journey, I am searching for the best route between my destinations. It makes sense to start in Budapest since it was the transport hub for the Hungarian half (Transleithania) of the Austro-Hungarian Empire. From Budapest, the question is where to go first. That decision will go a long way in determining the route I will take to travel from one city to the next. I am not looking for the quickest route between the lost cities. I am searching for the one that will prove most intellectually satisfying. One of the most important elements of any journey is getting off to a good start. That might sound simplistic, but when it comes to travel my experience has been that the beginning of a journey van either set the traveler up for success or failure. With that in mind, I want to ease into this journey. Looking at the seven lost cities, Eisenstadt in Eastern Austria stands out as low hanging fruit ripe to be plucked with a leisurely rail ride.

Due to the starting and final destinations for this initial leg of the journey being in different countries, it will require multiple transfers and take almost four hours. I can think of worse things than riding the rails across western Hungary and then hopscotching between a couple of stations before arrival in the Austrian province of Burgenland. It only seems right that I should finish this first leg of the journey in what became a newly created ninth Austrian province in 1921. Along the way I will be passing through Sopron, known as the most loyal city in Hungary because it voted to stay part of the country during the messy aftermath of the post- World War I treaty making process.

Eisenstadt is a good first lost city to visit for logistical reasons. Of the seven lost cities, it is the furthest one to the west and in near proximity to Bratislava, which will be second on my itinerary.   Bratislava, known by Hungarians as Pozsony, has done better economically than any of the other lost cities. The reason can be summed up as location and size. Bratislava is just 30 kilometers from Vienna. It has become something of a bedroom community to the Austrian capital. Bratislava also became the capital of Slovakia in 1994. As the seat of government, the city had a self-reinforcing economy. Due to Slovakia’s lower taxes and cost of living (not the case anymore), businesses and people poured into the city. It was the largest city in the newly created country.  Bratislava continues its impressive growth today. The city’s Old Town is spectacular, and the surrounding area has much to recommend it.

Power & prosperity – Bratislava (Credit: Jorge Franganillo)

Lost & Found – The Eastern Frontier
From Bratislava I really have only one choice, head eastward. This is the direction that has captivated me ever since I first set foot in the region. As much as I love Budapest and Bratislava, nothing fires my imagination like heading ever deeper into Eastern Europe. This is the true heart of a region that has been greatly misunderstood by the western world. It is also a region that the Treaty of Trianon upended to a greater extent than anywhere else. The heartlands of historic Hungary can still be found in eastern Slovakia, sub-Carpathian Ukraine, and western Romania. These places are home to the lost cities that are the next stage in planning my itinerary.

Click here for: Eastern Questions – Plotting Paths To Kosice & Uzhhorod (The Lost Cities #3)