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 21st century and the early 20st 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 20th 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)
Europe Between East And West 
That door has weathered the storms, God forbid they ever remove it for an automated system. That’s one if the things I loved about Eastern Europe, sights like those. It would have been spruced up years ago in the west.
The grit is so thick in Romania that you can taste it. There is nothing better than a dilapidated grand facade It is the visual representation of the 20th century in Romania.
I remember walking across I think it must have been Piata Romana or one of the other main squares at rush hour, the grit was all enveloping and highly appealing at the same time. Such a beautiful country of contrasts.
Bucharest is a great city. It reminds me of what one of those Russian aristocrats post revolution most have been like while living on the Cote d’Azur with nothing to show for it but faded pride in their past.
The faded glories of past empires, just the sort of things I daydream about, and quite often too. Bucharest has character, that’s for sure.