A Long-Lasting Affair – Passionate Excesses In Austria-Hungary (Rendezvous With An Obscure Destiny #75b)

The plan was that there was no plan. All I had to do was put my best foot backward. Only in retrospect can I see the road I took to Austria-Hungary clearly. My mind was made up to visit it so long ago that those first feelings now seem more like a dream than reality. All it took was one article and a few photos in the Marshall Cavendish Encyclopedia of World War I when I was sixteen. From that moment forward, the Austro-Hungarian Empire was the one for me. Assassinations are supposed to be deadly, but the one I came across would turn out to be life affirming. That is quite the statement considering the assassination of Archduke Franz Ferdinand in Sarajevo led to the destruction of Austria-Hungary. I was young and impressionable back then. The Archduke’s assassination made me want to visit those lands that had once been part of the Austro-Hungarian Empire. I loved the exotic names, colorful uniforms, and eccentric mustaches. In black and white photos, I could see the splendor and smell the cigarette smoke. I was starting at the end with Austria-Hungary and that was the beginning of a love affair that continues to this day.

Window into another world – In Sopron Hungary

Drawing Distinctions – Brno & Bratislava
I have been running out of time since the day I was born. Now that I have arrived at middle-age, the clock ticks faster than ever before. This has added a sense of urgency to my travels in what was once the Austro-Hungarian Empire. No one can say for sure how many trips they have left in them, but as the years have passed, I find myself grateful for each opportunity to explore some of the same places again and discover new parts of the empire for the first time. I have dedicated a portion of my adult life to pursuing this passion at all costs. The time I have spent on these travels has always been worth it. Traveling in the pursuit of Austria-Hungary is a fascinating paradox. I am pursuing the past, but the first time I visit a place, it is completely new to me. I am looking at the lasting remains of a vanished empire with virgin eyes. Everything old is new. This paradox explains how I can travel around the former empire so many times without losing interest.

Do I ever get tired of going back to the same kind of places again and again? Not when each place has a distinct identity. For example, there are more differences than similarities in Brno and Bratislava. These two cities are now in separate countries, but they used to be part of the same empire. They were separated by only 130 kilometers. I can drive between the two in less time than it takes to watch the average movie. And yet there is a world of difference in their Austro-Hungarian past. Brno was then, as it still is today, Moravia’s largest city. It was part of the Margraviate of Moravia in Austrian administered Cisleithania. Brno was inhabited by Czechs and Germans.

Bratislava, then known by its Hungarian name Pozsony, was in the Kingdom of Hungary. The city was part of Transleithania, that half of the empire administered by Hungarians. The population was mixed with Hungarians, Germans, and a smattering of Slovaks. Both Brno and Bratislava have exquisite Old Towns, but Brno’s feels much bigger. Bratislava’s is spectacularly quaint. Despite their differences, both cities used the Austro-Hungarian past as a draw for tourists. Visiting each of these cities on separate trips, I never connected the two in my mind with anything other than that they were once part of Austria-Hungary. Brno and Bratislava were then, as they are today, distinct in their own ways.

Rooftops and spires – Old Town in Brno

Speech Therapy – The Ties That Bind
Diversity of peoples, languages, and landscapes are a hallmark of Austria-Hungary. One of the thrills of traveling around the old imperial lands is that there is still an incredible amount of diversity despite the violent excesses of the World Wars. It is hard to imagine how a single political entity could bind such a complex area together, especially amid unprecedented technological change caused by an industrial revolution. This would have major consequences for the life and death of the empire. The complexity of peoples and places is the preeminent focal point for a traveler to the old empire. Trying to visit every province in the empire is not an easy undertaking.

The alpine landscapes of Austria have nothing in common with the Great Hungarian Plain’s vast emptiness. Slovenia and Slovakia may have mountains, but little else in common. The former was under the thumb of the Austrians, the latter under that of the Hungarians. Galicia and Dalmatia could not be any more different even though both were considered part of the Austrian administered half of the empire.  I never could see what these places had in common other than lots of unhappy history in Austria-Hungary.

The diversity of landscapes is matched by the languages. From a traveler’s perspective, the sheer number spoken by the natives as their preferred language is difficult to fathom. This is still noticeable. German was the empire’s lingua franca, but that should not be overstated. Every ethnic group preferred to speak in their own tongue. To be fluent in the languages of Austria-Hungary, someone would have to learn Czech, German, Hungarian, Italian, Romani, Romanian, Rusyn, Serbo-Croat, Slovak, Ukrainian, and Yiddish. That does not include all the dialects still spoken a century ago. Fortunately, money does more talking for a traveler than stumbling through a phrase book. Written numbers are mutually intelligible. 

Figures of Speech – Languages spoken in Austria-Hungary

Hearing Voices – Figures of Speech
For a native English speaker, the current situation is made easier because English is widely taught in Central and Eastern European countries today. Nevertheless, there are rural areas where English is hardly spoken. This presents a barrier for the traveler that is hard to overcome.  After all, learning one language is difficult, ten all but impossible. Linguistic and ethnic divisions make travel challenging. They also make it fascinating. The old cliché, “you are what you eat” should be changed to “you are what you speak.” Languages have never gotten me that far in the lands that were part of Austria-Hungary, but the greatest innovation of that era, railroads, has.

Click here for: Chasing Ghosts – Collecting Crownlands In Austria-Hungary (Rendezvous With An Obscure Destiny #75c)

Defying Dragons – Dangerous Liaisons In Ljubljana & Brno (Rendezvous With An Obscure Destiny #74b)

I should have seen the Brno Dragon coming. Sure, modern Moravia is not the kind of place I would normally worry about dragons, but I have seen dragons in several improbable places in Central and Eastern Europe. They have been breeding across the region since the Dark Ages. Their number rose in the Middle Ages and has remained stable ever since. Among their most prominent lairs are Krakow, Nyirbator, Krakow and Zagreb. Just like the people they have preyed on; these dragons have personalities. Some are seen as powerful, others as menacing, and still others as downright evil. An association with dragons often denotes heroism and martial valor. Defeating a dragon in battle can lead to legendary status as it did for Vitus of the Bathory clan and the most feted of all dragon slayers, St. George. A mere mortal like me must be satisfied with escaping the clutches of dragons while traveling through the region.

Scary scenario – From Dragon Bridge in Ljubljana (Credit: Bryce Edwards)

City of Dragons – The Legend of Ljubljana
One of my confrontations with dragons occurred in a land that would seem to lack such associations. Slovenia is a small, prosperous nation well-known for its alpine landscapes. It has a well-deserved reputation as a smaller, quainter, and cheaper version of its next-door neighbor Austria. Those who visit Slovenia hope to get a bargain for the beauty on offer. I was no different in this respect, but dragons in the capital city of Ljubljana gave me more than I bargained for. My meeting with fire breathing foes occurred on a troubled bridge over murky water. There were four awaiting me in the city center of Slovenia’s capital. They were perched on the Dragon Bridge, a triple arched, Viennese Secession style structure laid across the Ljubljanica River. The dragons recall Jason and the Argonauts who legend says were traveling through the area when they discovered a lake with adjacent marshland where a ferocious dragon lived. Jason slew the Ljubljana Dragon and founded the city.

Ljubljana is known as the City of Dragons, and the Dragon Bridge is home to four sculptures of these fearsome beasts, including the one Jason defeated. Ironically, dragons are seen as symbolic protectors of Ljubljana, but the one who took on Jason did not fare very well. The four dragon sculptures are sufficiently menacing and strikingly picturesque. With wings spread, mouth open, and fangs bared, they are ready to gobble up pedestrians or roast them alive. The dragons are more accommodating to virgins. Any time one crosses the bridge, a local legend says they wag their tails. I did not notice any of their tails wagging, but the dragons were accommodating enough allow photos.

Splendor & danger – Old Town Hall in Brno

Lurking Danger – Too Close For Comfort
The dragons in Ljubljana and the small Hungarian city of Nyirbator got my attention. Those experiences should have taught me to always be on the lookout for other ones. In Brno, the largest city in Moravia, reality could have bitten hard because I let my guard down. I was on the lookout for bookshops and historic sites, while admiring the Old Town’s impressive architecture. It has been said that life is what happens when you are doing other things. In the case of Brno, an attack by a dragon could have happened while I was doing other things. I had no idea that the Brno dragon was lurking just inside the Old Town Hall’s entrance. I unknowingly came way too close for comfort.

Going back through my photos of the afternoon I spent walking around the city center, I found one of the Old Town Hall. The dragon’s lair at the entrance was less than a hundred meters away from where I stood on a pedestrianized street that runs straight up to the covered entrance. The Old Town Hall was framed by buildings on either side of the street leading up to it. I was too busy taking photos of its tower which stands in perfect symmetry with the street. I never saw the Brno dragon which I later discovered lurks just above the entrance in a covered passageway. If I had, my curiosity might have gotten the better of me. This could have led to a terrifying confrontation and potentially dire consequences. What saved me was a parked vehicle that blocked half the Old Town Hall’s entrance from view. Thankfully, it did not allow me to catch a glimpse of the Brno Dragon.

Ready for visitors – Brno Dragon at the Old Town Hall (Credit: Millenium187)

Risk & Reward – An Explosive Force
Do dragons really exist? The answer to that question depends on how you define a dragon. Photos of the Brno Dragon which hangs just inside the Old Town Hall entrance looks suspiciously like a huge, stuffed crocodile. This is the stuff legends are made of. Specifically, a medieval legend of how Brno was terrorized by a dragon whose lair was the Svratka River. The dragon was eating all livestock in the area and attacking Brno’s citizens. The locals were scared to go out. The once thriving market town was facing dereliction if something was not done. Brno’s citizens were desperate to rid themselves of the terrible beast. A hundred pieces of gold pieces were offered to anyone who slayed the dragon. A butcher soon appeared on the scene to take up the offer. He laid an ingenious trap by filling an animal hide with caustic lime. Sure enough, the dragon gobbled the hide up. The lime caused intense thirst. This led the dragon to consume a large amount of water from the Svratka River. The lime in the dragon’s stomach expanded, causing the creature to explode. The butcher collected his reward and prosperity returned to Brno.

The Brno Dragon makes for a fascinating legend, but the truth about the creature is less dramatic. The reptile hanging inside the Old Town Hall entrance is a Nile crocodile that arrived in the city as a diplomatic gift during the 16^th century. The locals must have been in awe of the crocodile because few would have been aware of such a creature’s existence. The crocodile fits enough of the image associated with dragons to be called one. A legend grew up around the creature. One that the city still takes pride in today. After learning about the crocodile, I was disappointed that I did not get a closer look. Then again, I should perhaps consider myself lucky. Crocodile or dragon, dead or alive, the beast of Brno continues to haunt the Old Town’s entrance. Visitors beware.

Click here for: Improbable Itinerary – A Provincial Past (Rendezvous With An Obscure Destiny #75a)

Here Be Dragons – Stalked In Brno & Nyirbator (Rendezvous With An Obscure Destiny #74a)

Five years ago, I had a thoroughly enjoyable visit to Brno, the largest city in Moravia. Brno’s Old Town was impeccably reconstructed after allied bombing caused massive damage trying to evict German forces from Czechoslovakia during World War II. Brno Old Town is a paradox, it looks old and feels new. Reconstructions in Central and Eastern Europe can be off putting. Prime examples are Germany’s reconstructed city center. They often feel too neat and refined. In Brno, the aesthetics were just right. The city also has a large student population which gives the city center a youthful vibe.

Brno struck me as upbeat, optimistic, and forward thinking.  One of those places where I could move and be completely satisfied with the quality of life for many years. Though my visit coincided with cold winter days and light snow, I was taken in by Brno. The wintry weather added an air of enchantment. I was so caught up in the pleasant atmosphere that swirled around the Old Town that I never realized something truly terrifying lurked there. Long after my visit, I would discover I had been mere meters away from a fearful confrontation with the Brno Dragon. This was not the only dragon lurking in the farther reaches of Europe waiting to attack the unaware.

Ready to pounce – At the Old Town Hall in Brno (Credit: Scotch Mist)

Family Issues – A Legend Lurks
Dragons have a legendary history. These fire breathing creatures usually exist in fantasy fiction and mythological realms. They inhabit wild kingdoms of the imagination. For the most part, dragons are unrelated to reality unless you are traveling in Central and Eastern Europe. They can be found lurking in the strangest places such as the eastern Hungarian town of Nyirbator, I came across a series of frightening sculptures on a walk between two historic churches. I had just spent time inspecting a spectacular wooden belfry adjacent to the late 15^th – early 16^th century Reformed Church. 

Despite sub-zero temperatures I was on foot to the blindingly white, late-Gothic, Our Lady Church. I was shocked to find a series of action-packed sculptures along the way. These included a warrior and dragon locked in mortal combat. When I saw these sculptures, the dragon looked so real that I thought it just might come to life. I did not envy the warrior who was trying to spear the terrible creature. The icicles and snow frozen onto both only added to the drama.

The dragon and warrior have their basis in the most famous family associated with Nyirbator. The Bathory’s were one of Hungary’s leading aristocratic families during the Middle Ages and Renaissance periods. The most successful family member was Istvan (Stephen) Bathory who became Prince of Transylvania, King of Poland and the Grand Duke of Lithuania during the 16^th century. The most infamous was Erzsebet (Elizabeth Bathory), whose nickname was Blood Countess. Reputedly one of the most prolific female serial killers in history, Erzsebet Bathory’s deadly exploits had their basis in fact, but across the centuries they have been raised to legendary proportions. The Bathory’s have a knack for legends. This explains the dragon sculptures in Nyirbator. 

Fearful prospect – Dragon sculpture in Nyirbator (Credit: Globetrotter19)

Breathing Frost – Lying In Wait
Imagine mist rising off marshland. A giant beast wades through dark water searching for prey. Innocent villagers cower in the corner of a hovel as they fear the worst. It is the early Middle Ages. Life is precarious, even more so on the edge of boggy terrain further to the east of Nyirbator. An area of swampy marshland closes in on Ecsed Castle. This is the setting for a legend that stalks the land in far eastern Hungary. As the story goes, a dragon that called the marshland home menaced the surrounding countryside. The locals were in constant peril. The dragon needed to be defeated or an already marginal area would be rendered uninhabitable. In the year 900, a warrior by the name of Vitus sets out to slay the dragon. He soon finds the beast and engages in a deadly fight. With three precise blows from his lance, Vitus managed to slay the dragon. The area is now safe for further settlement.

As his reward, Vitus is given Ecsed Castle. The Bathory family’s rise had begun. Nyirbator would become the center from which the family’s estates were administered. The city honored the Bathory’s legendary legacy with the group of sculptures I stumbled upon. These included a scene that portrayed an archeological dig where the dragon’s bones were being excavated. In one of the most impressive sculptures, the dragon had broken through a wall. He looked like he was coming after someone, preferably those who stopped to look. The most famous of the sculptural scenes portrayed Vitus with his lance fighting the dragon. I have no idea how much these sculptures cost, but it could not have been cheap. They defied reality.

Sculptures by their very nature are static, the ones in Nyirbator were not. They were adventurous and emotive. Though I would not learn about the legend of Vitus slaying the dragon until later, I gained a rough understanding from looking at the sculptures. In all seriousness. I would not want to be walking by them at night with no prior knowledge of their location. Shining a light on the dragon in the dark would reveal a monstrous creature on the attack. On the frigid day when I first saw the dragon, it was breathing ice rather than fire. The only breath visible was my own. Due to the sculptures, that dastardly dragon still stalks Nyirbator. Thank goodness, Vitus is ever present to protect everyone, including puzzled tourists like me.

Mortal combat – Vitus takes on the dragon in Nyirbator (Credit: Szilas)

Lack of Notice – Closer To A Confrontation
Vitus had sought out the dragon in the marshes around Ecsed. In Brno, I did no such thing. This was for good reason because I was unaware that Moravia was home to dragons. My experience with dragons was extremely limited. Role playing games and Puff the Magic Dragon in my youth. These were little more than frivolous fantasies. Child’s play. An adult could hardly take such things seriously, Dragons were to be found in places like the movies, but they were not going to jump through the silver screen. There really was nothing to worry about until my visit to Brno. In this case, ignorance would turn out to be bliss. I had no idea just how close I was to my first confrontation.

Click here for: Defying Dragons – Dangerous Liaisons In Ljubljana & Brno (Rendezvous With An Obscure Destiny #74b)

A Terrible Precedent – Taking Teschen (Polish-Czechoslovak War #3)

The Polish-Czechoslovak War may have been short and quickly forgotten by all except the combatants, but that still does not make it any easier to view a photo of atrocities committed during the conflict. Twenty men are laying on their backs in the snow close to a wrought iron fence.  Many of them have stunned looks on their faces. Others look as though they have fallen asleep. Only in this case they will never wake up. The photo was taken at the village of Stonava in the aftermath of a massacre that occurred on January 26,1919, when 20 Polish soldiers were killed by Czechoslovak troops. They were victims of the burst of violence which marked the Polish-Czechoslovak War. The men look innocent, though their murderers had considered them guilty. Their only crime was to be on the wrong side in a war that need not have been fought. The same could be said for so many of the conflicts that followed in the immediate post-World War I chaos to consume Europe.  

 Poisonous legacy – Bodies of Polish soldiers killed by Czech legionaries at Stonava

Taking Advantage – First With The Most
The Polish-Czechoslovak War was short, nasty, and brutish. It was also one-sided. Much of that had to do with Czechoslovak forces adhering to a key tenet of successful military actions by getting their first with the most. The idea is simple. Get more forces to the military objective before the other side does. If this is done in a well-coordinated and expedient manner, it gives the side that arrives first with a greater number of troops an advantage that will be extremely hard for the opposition to overcome. This sums up what Czechoslovak forces did so well in the Polish-Czechoslovak War fought in January 1919. The conflict is also known as the Seven Day War. In a war fought within such a narrow span of time, speed and numbers were of the utmost importance. Czechoslovakia was able to mobilize a much greater number of forces than Poland.

While Czechoslovakia was much smaller than Poland, it selected the optimal time for combat operations. The Poles gave the Czechoslovaks a pretense for war when they decided to hold elections in Teschen Silesia (Cieszyn Silesia) for the Sejm (Poland’s Parliament). This would have established Polish sovereignty over the territory. The Czechoslovaks quickly reacted. The speed at which they sent soldiers to Teschen Silesia caught the Poles flat footed. On January 23^rd, Czechoslovak Lieutenant-Colonel Josef Snejdarek met with Polish General Franciszek Latinak. Snejdarek informed him that Polish forces must withdraw from the region. He said that the western powers had sanctioned the Czech occupation of Teschen Silesia. Latinik refused. He doubted Snejdarek’s justification for good reason. It was a lie. Two hours after the meeting, Czechoslovak forces moved forward. The Poles were in an untenable position and Teschen Silesia was only one of their many military problems. They were already engaged in a war with Ukrainian forces around the city of Lwow (Lviv) and on the cusp of an even larger war with the Soviets. The last thing Poland needed was yet another war in a frontier region. That was just what the Czechoslovaks gave them.

After the fact – Polish troops entering Teschen after armistice with Czechoslovaks in February 1919

Grave Damage – A Broken Relationship
The Poles did not have enough soldiers to adequately defend the region. This allowed Czechoslovak forces to achieve their two main objectives, taking control of the Kosice-Bohumin Railway and the Karvina coal fields. The Czechs never relinquished the initiative during the seven days of fighting. This allowed them to establish facts on the ground before they were forced to halt their military activities due to pressure from the western powers. By that time, Czechoslovakia had achieved its goal of occupying the specific parts of Teschen Silesia it coveted. Their tactical victory would later turn into a strategic one. The Czechs were able to secure at the negotiating table what they had established on the ground. They achieved these goals with minimal casualties, but the collateral damage was immense. Czech soldiers committed atrocities against both Polish soldiers and civilians, The worst of these were the twenty Polish soldiers murdered at Stonava. This incident, along with several others, did grave damage to Czechoslovakia-Poland relationship.  

Czechoslovakia’s impetuous actions were successful in the short term, but ultimately came at great cost. There was no easy way to repair the damage that had been done. The Poles had a long memory. They felt Czechoslovakia was opportunistic when Poland was at a weak point. The hard feeling lasted throughout the interwar period. Relations between Czechoslovakia and Poland were perpetually tense. The Seven Day War for Teschen Silesia was a wound that continued to fester. This would have ramifications well beyond a single week of fighting. After Hitler rose to power in 1933, Czechoslovakia and Poland needed a collective security alliance more than ever before. Neither was big enough to single handedly hold off the German military. A revitalized relationship would have made it difficult for Hitler to turn against one or the other. Tragically, Czechoslovakia and Poland had done little during the interwar period to repair relations. Hitler used this to his advantage. When the Germans secured the Sudetenland in Czechoslovakia due to the Munich agreement, Poland stood idly by. There was no such thing as a united front in Eastern Europe to oppose the Third Reich.

An eye for an eye – Monument to Czechoslovak victims of Polish occupation of Teschen Silesia in 1938 (Credit: I. Ondrej Zvacek)

Full Circle – A Cynical Symmetry
When Czechoslovakia lost the Sudetenland to the Germans in 1938, Poland saw an opportunity to retake Teschen Silesia. The Czechoslovaks were too weak to confront them. Poland reoccupied the area they had lost two decades before. The Poles committed their own share of atrocities. Czechoslovakia was stripped of its territory. The controversy over Teschen Silesia had come full circle. Poland was now in the position that Czechoslovakia had been in 1919. The cynical symmetry of this back and forth served to weaken both countries. When a stronger relationship was needed, neither side was willing. The upshot was that both nations would end up succumbing to the Germans.

Could this have turned out differently if the Seven-Day War never happened? That is impossible to answer. What can be said is that the fight for Teschen Siesia provided short term gains at long term cost. For such a small war this one had an outsized effect. This was a case where an eye for an eye left everyone blind. Was the war worth it for Czechoslovakia? In 1919 the answer was yes. By 1938, the answer was a resounding no. For tactical gains, Czechoslovakia had made a tragic mistake from which they could not recover.

Opportunity Costs – Trying To Take Teschen (Polish-Czechoslovak War #2)

It is difficult to overstate just how consumed by conflict Eastern Europe was following the end of World War I. Wars, cross-border conflicts, and armed uprisings broke out across the region. Land, ideology, natural resources, ethnic frictions, and railroads were the cause of numerous conflicts. Trying to figure out exactly when World War I ended, and peace began in the region is not clear. There were numerous important moments, rather than a single definitive one.

This was unlike the western front where the signing of an armistice at Compiegne in France ended the war on November 11, 1918. Combat on the Eastern Front supposedly ended eight months earlier when the Treaty of Brest-Litovsk was agreed between the Central Powers (Germany, Austria-Hungary and the Ottoman Empire) and Soviet Russia. German and Austro-Hungarian troops then occupied territory that had been part of the Russian Empire. Their occupation came to an end with the armistice at Compiegne. This led to a power vacuum that opened a pandora’s box of conflicts throughout Eastern Europe.

Dueling identities – Signs at Cesky Tesin (Czeski Cieszyn) Railway Station in Czech and Polish (Credit: Vojtech Dockal)

Unfinished Fights – Free For All
The complex nature of numerous uprisings, civil wars, and territorial struggles in postwar Eastern Europe is extremely difficult to understand. A single nation could be involved in fighting on multiple fronts. Take for instance Poland, which in 1919 was fighting the Polish-Lithuanian War, Polish-Soviet War, Polish-Ukrainian War, and skirmishes with remnants of the German Army. Every one of those opposing forces was a sworn enemy of the Poles. Yet it is another conflict in 1919 that stands out for its quixotic nature.

The Poles, Czechs, and Slovaks should have been brothers in arms. They did not have any recent history of conflict with one another. All three had been subsumed under empires that thwarted their independence. The Poles by the Germans, Russians and Austrians, the Czechs by the Austrians, and the Slovaks by the Hungarians. Despite their shared sense of nationalist aspirations, they would come into conflict with one another as Poland and Czechoslovakia battled for Teschen Silesia (Cieszyn Silesia), a small region in northwestern Slovakia that each side coveted for very different reasons.

Teschen Silesia was a point of contention in the scramble for territory after World War I ended. The region had been formerly administered by Austria-Hungary with Teschen (Polish: Cieszyn/Czech: Tesin) as its largest city. The city was host to the empire’s military headquarters which played an outsized role in Austria-Hungary’s defeat. Conrad von Hotzendorf, Chief of the General Staff of the Austro-Hungarian Military, managed the war from Teschen. The upshot was that Hotzendorf’s military blunders destroyed much of Austria-Hungary’s army. This eventually brought about the empire’s dissolution. That collapse meant Teschen was up for grabs. Both Poland and Czechoslovakia – reborn as independent nations – coveted Teschen and the territory around it. Poland thought it should have the area because of demographics. Conversely, Czechoslovakia believed it was critical to the nation’s survival. 

Divided up – Cieszyn (left), Cesky Tesin (right) and the Olza River in recent times
(Credit: Darwinek)

Strength In Numbers – Demographics & Economics
While Teschen Silesia had been part of the Austro-Hungarian Empire prior to World War I, it had deeper roots as the Duchy of Teschen, which had been Lands of the Bohemian Crown. This gave the Czechs a foothold based upon history, but during the postwar period, demography was just as important as history. During the 19^th century, greater numbers of Poles moved into the area. By 1919, the situation on the ground favored Poland. Ethnic Poles made up a majority of the inhabitants in three of Teschen Silesia’s four districts. Demographics were a powerful force in the reconstituted Polish state. Poland needed as many Poles as possible. In other areas of the nation such as its southeastern region, Poles were outnumbered by Ukrainians. There were also large numbers of ethnic Germans, Lithuanians, and Belarusians scattered across different areas of Poland. Placing Teschen in Poland would provide a small, but much needed boost of ethnic Poles. 

The Czechs feared the demographic issue due to the precedent it would set. If a majority Polish area in historical Czech lands were to join Poland, what would keep the majority ethnic German areas in the Sudetenland from joining Germany. Czechoslovakia was much smaller than either Poland or Germany. It could not afford for the minorities within its borders to demand self-determination. The country’s survival would be at stake. Czechoslovakia needed more territory not less.

For both Czechoslovakia and Poland, Teschen Silesia was also a question of economics. Including the region in either would leave one nation richer, and the other poorer. Silesia was home to some of the largest deposits of coal in Europe. Coal was a vital energy resource. It played much the same role that oil does today. Coal fueled industrialization, which in turn spurred economic development. If Czechoslovakia and Poland were going to survive, they needed strong economies. Neither nation’s economic prospects were optimal. The Karvina coal fields in Teschen Silesia could help mitigate that problem. This was the region’s economic crown jewel and one that neither side would give up without a fight.

Another issue was the Kosice-Bohumin railway, an important connection between the Czech lands and Slovakia. Bohumin was a crucial international transport and communication hub. The largest cargo railway station in east-central Europe was located there. If Teschen went to Poland, Bohumin would be on its fringes. Whereas for Czechoslovakia, it would offer an efficient connection to the Slovak hinterland. In sum, Czechoslovakia believed its viability as an independent nation was threatened without Teschen. That was less true for Poland, but Teschen was still a territory they coveted. A negotiated settlement between the two countries should have been possible.

Boots on the ground – Czechoslovak legionaries leaving for Slovakia for Cieszyn Silesia

Men At Arms – The March To War
The two sides came to a provisional agreement on the territory on November 5, 1918, but this was done by local authorities and favored Poland. Czechoslovakia’s government did not recognize this agreement. The Poles followed up by organizing an election that would send representatives from Teschen to the Sejm, Poland’s parliament. relations between the two sides were at the breaking point. The Czechs reacted by sending in troops. This caught the Poles off guard. They were busy fighting larger wars. One against the Ukrainians and another against the Soviets. The Poles could not afford to spare troops to defend the region. The Czechs took advantage of the situation. The stage was set for the Czechs to impose their will by military force. All that stood in the way were weaker Polish forces. What happened next would poison relations between Czechoslovakia and Poland for a generation.

Click here for: A Terrible Precedent – Taking Teschen (Polish-Czechoslovak War #3)

The Twilight Zone of Travel – Missed Connections: Prague to Frankfurt (Lost In Transit #1)

I have a proposal for a travel book that someone should write, the only requirement is that it not be me. Writing this book would mean spending time in some of the most mind-numbing places in the world. Places that are the very definition of neither here nor there. Places that help travelers understand the meaning of lost in transit. As I write this, there are thousands of people all over the world suffering from the experience. This happens every day, but I have yet to see a single book written on the topic. Maybe that is because missing a flight connection and being put up at a hotel close to the airport is an experience most travelers would rather forget. Or maybe because the airline covers the bill, stranded passengers feel they should be grateful for spending a night on someone else’s dime. Whatever the case, the experience is one of the strangest imaginable. If there is a twilight zone of travel, then this is it.

On the ground – Lufthansa aircraft at Prague Airport

Grounded – An Excursion In Futility
There could be worse things than an environment covered in concrete. One where delivery trucks and aircraft equipment emit piercing levels of industrial noise. There could be worse things than getting stuck in a hotel filled with legions of irritated passengers silently hoping that their rebooked flight leaves the next day. Another twenty-four hours of this accommodation is a fate too horrible to contemplate. Yes, a book really should be written about this experience, how to endure and overcome it, but that book will not be written by me. I do not have more than a handful of these travel traumas under my money belt. They weigh heavily on my memory. The most memorable of these unsatisfying experiences I try to forget. That is a conscious decision. Dredging up the details tends to leave me depressed. Nevertheless, I shall try to relate in detail the specifics of this excursion in futility. This will likely be the first and last time I put it into writing mainly this is an experience I do not care to repeat.

The whole thing started with a flat tire. In my experience, this is rather common. AAA, tow trucks, and tire tools are the usual remedy. That is unless you are pulling away from the gate on an aircraft operated by Lufthansa at Vaclav Havel Airport in Prague on an otherwise blissful morning in mid-April. I was at the end of a two-week trip that had taken me to Prague, Bratislava, Ljubljana, and several other cities over a just as spring was beginning to blossom across East-Central Europe. For two weeks I had overcome an abscessed tooth, noisy neighbors at hotels and hostels, logistical issues, and any number of minor inconveniences to have a highly successful trip. This already had me planning future adventures abroad. I was self-satisfied because everything had gone according to plan. The only parts of the trip left were two flights, a short hop from Prague to Frankfurt and then a trans-Atlantic journey from Frankfurt to Chicago. I had a couple of hours in Frankfurt to make my connection. That should have easily been enough time if nothing went wrong. At least, that was what I wanted to believe. The reality would be very different.

All lined up – Prague Airport departures terminal (Credit: Felix Riehle)

Flight Risks – Going Into A Tailspin
I was getting ahead of myself before I even left the ground in Prague by wrongly assuming the flight would go off without a hitch. This had a great deal to do with my very high opinion of Lufthansa. The few times I had flown with them, the service was fast and efficient. The conditions in coach class were much better than on other popular commercial airlines. The process from boarding to disembarking was organized with Teutonic efficiency. This engendered in me a blind belief that Lufthansa could do no wrong. I thought that everything they did, from aircraft maintenance to food service, put other airlines to shame. Based on prior experience with airlines and flights I should have known better. Lufthansa is prone to the same problems as other airlines.

And how could they not be? As demanding as I can be about problem-free flights, I do understand that every flight that goes off without a hitch is a minor miracle. There are hundreds of passengers and thousands of moving parts. Teutonic efficiency only goes so far when up against the odds that eventually something is bound to go wrong. The best any passenger can hope for is that it turns out not to be life threatening. Arriving on time and making connections is not a matter of life and death. That is a fact that many who fly, including myself, tend to lose sight of.

Making multiple connections in a single day while flying from East-Central Europe to the heartland of America is all too often a recipe for problems. I know from experience. For instance, one time on a trip back from Berlin, the plane was moments away from touching down in Rapid City, South Dakota. I could see the runway despite a snow shower. The wheels were out and then suddenly the pilot turned the plane upward. There would be no landing on this evening due to poor visibility. That sent me on a wayward journey that included spending part of the night in a field outside the airport terminal in Bismarck, North Dakota. Getting back from Berlin turned into a multi-day odyssey. The domino effect from the abortive landing sent everything into a tailspin, but at least I arrived alive.

Missed connections – Aircraft as seen from Terminal 1 at Prague Airport (Credit: Mtaylor848)

Second Guesses – Feeling The Inevitable
Experiences like that one stayed with me. They made me second guess air travel. I wondered if the same things happened to others. Of course, they did, but I wanted to believe they only happened to me. Little did I know at the time that the Berlin to Rapid City odyssey would be one of many more flight problems in my future. This was something that lurked in the back of my mind. I would try to never acknowledge it for fear that doing so would make another occurrence possible. This was foolishness, but the “once bitten, twice shy” syndrome would stay with me. When a problem arose in Prague, all I could think of was here we go again.

Click here for: Crazed Apathy – Terminal Decline: Prague to Frankfurt (Lost In Transit #2)

Midpoints of Nowhere – Shadow World: From Bohemia to Kremnicke Bane (Searching For The Center of Europe #3)

Remember the Grand Tour? It was a rite of passage from the 17^th – 19^th century for many aristocrats and wealthy travelers. Valuable experience would be acquired by those lucky enough to have the means to make a circuit around Europe and see the most famous cities and sites. The Grand Tour was considered an integral part of a liberal education. It went into decline when tourism began to gravitate toward the middle class and went mass market with package deals catering to a wider swath of travelers. Today, the Grand Tour hardly exists in its original form, though there are some parallels with aspects of modern tourism. Making a tour of Europe is still done by many college students in their gap year or those with the time and money to spend several months riding the rails from one stop to another.

A modern Grand Tour of Europe would take in some of the following destinations: Amsterdam, Paris, Barcelona, Rome, Vienna, the Rhineland, and Switzerland. I never went on a Grand Tour or thought of going on one. The closest I ever came to something approaching the concept was traveling between the famous trio of Central and Eastern European cities, Budapest, Prague, and Vienna, but I did not visit all three on the same trip for a good reason. A whirlwind tour is just that, a simple effort to see as much as possible in as little time as possible. That sounds like travel purgatory to me. Nevertheless. I have been thinking about another Grand Tour, one that would take a traveler into the very heart of Europe. 

In the Distance – View of Dylen (Tillenberg) (Credit: Lubor Ferenc)

Backwaters – A Different Kind of Grand Tour
Imagine a tour of Europe that started atop a mountain, Dylen, on the edge of western Bohemia. From there, the tour would travel eastwards to several obscure towns and villages including Kremnicke Bane Slovakia, Tallya Hungary, Dilove Ukraine, Suchowola Poland, Polotsk Belarus, Girija Lithuania and finally to Saaremaa Island off the coast of Estonia. While all these places are obscure, they have one thing in common, each has been designated at one time or another as the Center of Europe. Some of the claims are dubious, but all the sites have sort of marker and/or commemorative plaques. Such a tour might enlighten the previously unaware to how the proverbial “other half” lives in Europe. Those whose lives have little to do with citified Europe, high powered jobs, or political maneuverings. They are far removed from the glitz and glamor of national capitals. There is no evocative old town in like the one in Warsaw awaiting visitors, none of Budapest’s grandeur or Lviv’s fin de siècle elegance to greet travelers.

The Centers of Europe are towns that belong to another world, one where the horse drawn wagon cart can be a familiar sight and the population still struggles to make ends meet on meager pensions or whatever work is available. People still rely on garden plots for meals and imbibe copious amounts of spirits not just at parties, but as a way of life. Bicycles are the main mode of public transport and people watching is a spectator sport for pensioners whether from the curbside or windows. A world where digital devices are few and the age of technology does not yet control life. This shadow world is not just the forgotten or unknown Europe, it is the Center of Europe and the middle of nowhere. Let us now armchair travel to a distant world, deep in the heart of Eastern Europe.

Middle marker – A Geographical Midpoint of Europe marker which was placed atop Dylen in 1862 (Credit: PeterBraun74)

Moving East – Behind & Beyond The Iron Curtain
Germany is the unofficial Center of Europe, if not geographically, then economically and politically. The starting point for this tour is only a hundred meters from the German border. This is the closest spot anyone searching for Europe’s midpoint can get to Germany. That is because Dylen (Tillenberg in German) is a mountain on the western edge of Bohemia. According to local lore, Napoleon Bonaparte declared that Dylen was the geographic center of Europe. Others piggybacked on this claim. It is probably not a coincidence that a team of Austrian geographers also claimed Dylen as the center of Europe since it was in the Austro-Hungarian Empire at the time and on the edge of the German Empire in the late 19^th century. Later, Dylen was used for more insidious purposes as the Soviet Union set up an electronic listening station there during the Cold War. Today it is a lonely mountain top with lush vegetation and dark woods, a great place for hiking to the small stone marker place in 1862 at what had been declared as the geographical center of Europe. Dylen is a beautiful spot for sure, but also one of the most remote midpoints in Europe.

The center of Europe has shifted eastward multiple times and so does this journey. Eastern Europe as it is still known by many today – east of the old Iron Curtain – is from a geographical standpoint, central Europe. The marker at Dylen is the furthest western spot of any designated midpoint in Europe. A nation that has since vanished, Czechoslovakia, not only included Dylen, but also Kremince Bane, which is now located in Slovakia. The town is deep in the mountains of central Slovakia in an area blessed by nature. It was the surrounding hills and mountains which brought the larger town of Kremnice, just to the south of Kremnice Bane, a great deal of wealth. The area was mined for gold and other valuable minerals over the course of many centuries. The mines eventually played out and Kremnice became a backwater, while Kremnice Bane never even approached that level. Kremnice’s historic past and the area’s natural beauty have become a magnet for tourism.

Centerpoint – St. John’s Church with Geographical Midpoint of Europe marker in Kremnicke Bane (Credit: Fefeha)

Unscientific & Scenic – The Path to Kremnicke Bane
There is another tourist attraction just a bit beyond Kremnice which often gets overlooked. I know from experience since I spent several pleasant hours visiting the town a few years ago. Unfortunately, I failed to travel a couple of kilometers further north to Kremnicke Bane. On a paved road outside of the village stands the Geographical Midpoint of Europe monument, consisting of a large boulder with a couple of commemorative plaques attached. The granite boulder was set in 1815, when the spot was anointed the center of Europe. The claim may not have been scientific, but the site is certainly scenic. The monument offers a sort of two for one experience as it stands close to the Gothic inspired St. John’s Church. The location also offers a magnificent vista with rolling hills and mountains in the distance. It is an inspiring spot, perhaps the most evocative of all the places that claim to be the Center of Europe.

Click here for: The Center of Nowhere – Tallya, Sucholow, & Dilove (Searching For The Center of Europe #4)

Cover Story – Prague In Danger: City Planning (Eastern Europe & Me #11)

I feel sorrier for other people, than I do myself. I am being selfish by saying that, but I really do feel sorry for those who have little interest in the remote, obscure, and bizarre. A fine example of this mental malady which causes me to look askance at those without the same strange interests as me, goes back to a train trip I took from Vienna to Prague eleven years ago. For whatever reason, I began to scour my memory trying to remember the people I met on that journey. I was able to distinctly recall two women in their early 20’s who were making that same journey. They were sitting several seats away from me, but when I got up to stretch my legs, I could not help but notice the title of a book one of them was reading.

Ominous Beauty – Prague

Cover Story – Prague In Danger
Prague In Danger: The Years of German Occupation, 1939-45: Memories and History, Terror and Resistance, Theater and Jazz, Film and Poetry, Politics and War by Peter Demetz is a book about the city during World War II. The woman reading it did not seem to be exactly enthralled. She would read a page or two, then put it down. Then later she would pick it up again and do the same thing. Her behavior was the essence of disinterest. A good part of the journey, Danger In Prague sat on the table in front of her tempting me with whatever knowledge could be found between its covers. The book interested me, along with the question of why the woman was reading it.

After almost two weeks traveling in parts of the Czech Republic, Hungary, Slovakia, and Slovenia on this trip, it was nice to see someone reading an English language history book. I can count on one finger how many Americans I have met on a train in Europe reading a history book. As such, this rare occasion called for striking up a conversation. Halfway through the journey I approached the two of them and asked if they were Americans. They replied in the affirmative. When I asked the one with the book if Danger in Prague was a good read, she nonchalantly replied, “it’s ok.” (Note: The book has many outstanding reviews) The sound of her response stated otherwise. At most, I detected that it was mildly interesting for her. The title probably caught her eye, I know it would mine. Intrigues, spying, shadowy characters, stories of horror, and heroism. Prague during World War II is a fascinating subject, but it would have been terrifying to experience.

Dangerous times – Nazis in Prague

Urban Explorers – An Intimate Perspective
I followed up my first question with another more mildly probing one. “Are you two traveling around Europe?” That was self-evident and a good way to learn more about their travels. The trip for them was predominantly educational. They were graduate students involved in city planning. They sported a Eurail pass which they used to visit multiple places in Europe. They rattled off a litany of the most famous cities, including Berlin, Paris, and Vienna among others. They were doing the same with Prague. In one respect, I envied them. To see a city through the eyes of an urban planner, rather than as a traveler would be intriguing. To me, Prague had been setup for maximum tourist potential. The serpentine streets in the Old Town, Charles Bridge leading thousands each day across the Vltava, Prague Castle perched upon a promontory.

The city was laid out in a picture-perfect manner. One that almost made me believe that Prague was created for tourists rather than its inhabitants. These two women would understand the reasons behind Prague’s development and the reasons for its street pattern. While the architecture of Prague was not lost on me, the reasons behind why buildings, squares, and streets were arranged in a specific manner was beyond my comprehension. Listening to them I envied their knowledge. Conversely, the fact they had been traveling from one famous European city to another sounded tedious. While I do not ascribe to the cliché that if you have seen one city, you have seen them all, I thought it was rather sad that these two would not spend time in smaller, less popular cities, let alone towns and villages.

Wandering around villages in Eastern Europe gave me a more intimate perspective on specific countries and the way people lived. Nothing excited me so much as a place in half ruin or a village that was left behind by progress. These are the forgotten failures of civilization, the places that cease to exist and will only be remembered by their inhabitants, if they are remembered at all. In life, I have learned much more from my failures than successes. I would think a city or town planner could do the same. I felt a bit sorry for those two women, but I realized then, as I do today, that was not their problem, it was mine. My view of travel centered more around me more than any specific itinerary. I could follow my curiosity through the countryside or a cityscape. My pursuit of place was both intellectual and romantic. A search for facts and feelings.

Perfect planning – Aerial view of Prague

A Far-Off Place – Intrigue & Mystery
One of the joys of being beyond higher education was that I no longer had anyone proscribing my interests. I now was free to read what I pleased, just as I was free to travel where I pleased. Academics built more upon knowledge than experience. They are a pathway to careers. I had done my time inside the ivory tower. I turned my back on it after graduating from university. I did not care to go back, only forward into some far-off place where I could not only learn about the world, but also myself.

I only spoke one other time with those two women, saying goodbye when we arrived in Prague. Our initial conversation had taken only a couple of minutes. For some reason that moment remains with me. That is probably because I can still remember Prague In Danger and the conversation that it spurred. There was an element of intrigue and mystery in that title. Seeing an American reading a book of history on a train as it rolled through Bohemia only heightened those feelings. The intrigue of that moment is still with me. I suspect it will always be.

Click here for: Affirmation of An Obsession – Destiny’s Child: Stalking Alexander Asboth (Eastern Europe & Me #12)

The Perils of Parenting – Prague: Glittering Unhappiness (Eastern Europe & Me #8)

The girl looked miserable and her mother even more so. I met them while on a Free Tour of Prague Castle. That day was one of the greyest imaginable. The mother and daughter duo were headed for stormy weather. Their mood just as grim as the sky which hung over the Castle District like a shadow. Anyone who has spent winter/early spring in Central or Eastern Europe will surely know what I mean., The sky turns to slate, a chill permeates the air and seeps into the skin. Stepping outside induces an immediate need to go back to sleep. Even the widest-eyed travelers find themselves in a perpetual fog as the day becomes one with the night. On this day, Prague’s ambiance was like that found in a funeral home. The day could hardly be differentiated from night.

Gray day – The view in the late afternoon from Prague Castle

Family Ties – The Coming Conflict
When a first-time visitor starts wishing for darkness to descend and put the day out of its misery, you know the situation is dire. This was my main thought as I tried to fight off sleep. The sky could not have been heavier. Even those with the sunniest dispositions would start begging for a cloudburst. Anything to break the monotonous weather. Some days seem longer than others, this one felt infinite. Thus, the mother and daughter duo were as reflective of the climate as they were of one another. I distinctly recall speaking with them after passing through the Golden Lane where Kafka once lived. Even in the permanent dusk that cloaked everything in dullness the pastel homes on either side of the cobblestone lane were of such warmth that it could not but help but make me feel better about the world. Unfortunately, beauty, charm, and history did nothing to brighten the mood of mother and daughter. They were headed for an epic row, their time on this tour was only serving to exacerbate the strain.

The coming conflict between them was quite simple. From what the mother told me, they had been on a sort of grand tour of Eastern Europe. I surmised the reason was to make the daughter more worldly. From the look on her face, it had only made her surly. I am not quite sure if she wanted to be in Prague, but one thing was certain, she did not want to be with her mother. After the latter told me about their trip it was easy to understand why. They were from New York City and the daughter went to an elite private school. The kind that probably made a mother-daughter trip to Eastern Europe sound like the sort of extracurricular activity that would look good on a college application. I was certain the mother had plans for her daughter that included an Ivy league school or some other institution of higher education whose yearly tuition cost more than the average salary of an entire Czech family.

The Golden Lane – Twilight in Prague Castle

Ball & Chain – The Parent Trap
The daughter had her eye on the door, an invisible one, that imaginary escape hatch where she would be released from the ball and chain of parental control. From the looks of it, the daughter was under intense pressure from the mother to excel in everything. This would guarantee a glittering life and lead to no end of unhappiness. I sensed illicit drug use, excessive drinking, and other acts of unspeakable behavior in her future. It was either that or a profoundly upper-class existence where everything was defined as superior. I have often wondered what it is like to be wealthy, if this iteration was any indication than I must consider my working-class roots akin to winning the lottery.

The scene between the two was rather depressing. I probably would never have noticed, but an inquiry about where my fellow Americans were from led to the mother inquiring about my travels. She seemed to be both fascinated and bemused by the fact that I had been traveling around Eastern Europe alone. This was something of a novelty to her because they were in throes of a rigorous travel schedule that had led to considerable angst bordering on exhaustion. The mother wore an expression of frustration, the daughter a look of repressed anger. This situation was eventually going to end badly for them. The unhappiness was palpable. Prague was not their final destination. Instead, the itinerary called for a visit to Budapest. They were probably not going to make it, either literally or figuratively. Each for their own reasons, they were looking for a way out of this self-imposed madness that had brought them both to the edge of sanity.

Exhaustion & angst – Sculpture at Prague Castle

Scandalous Ideas – Nothing But The Best  
I knew the mother must be desperate when she began asking my advice about visiting Budapest. With my strange southern drawl, public school education, and carefree attitude towards travel, I was not exactly wise in the worldly ways of the northeastern elite. My idea of a good day of travel was to experience the spontaneous and pseudo-seedy. I had been lurking around an abandoned district railway station in Prague earlier that day. For me, that was the right thing to do. I am sure the mother would have been mortified by such an idea and her daughter elated. And now the mother wanted my opinion of Budapest. Of course, I said it was incredible. That no Eastern European journey would be complete without a visit. I had a feeling that my reasons for visiting Budapest as opposed to theirs could not have been more different.

The mother wanted the daughter to gain a worldly education which meant she had to see the very best of everything. The idea of anything seedy would have been positively scandalous. My idea of Budapest at its best was seeing the shadow world that lurked in faded fin de siècle buildings and less touristy districts. I vaguely mentioned this aspect of the city, but it seemed lost on the mother. She already had her mind made up for the daughter. The trip had been too much. Budapest was a city too far. The mother said the daughter would need to get back home, to prepare for the rest of the spring school year. The daughter did not have much say in the matter, but her expression said it all. She wanted to be done with this trip, but not as much at that moment as she wanted to be done with her mother. Ironically, their Eastern European journey was going to end with a Free Tour in Prague. I imagined they had all the money in the world and none of it was going to buy happiness.

Click here for: Making That Call – Riga: Land of Narvesen (Eastern Europe & Me #9a)

Magnetic Attraction – All Too Human In Prague (Eastern Europe & Me #7)

Playing memory games used to be one of my favorite habits. I can still recall with joy the long drives across the United States where I would recite to myself various lists such as Roman Emperors, American Presidents, and Chinese dynasties in sequential order. I did not always get them right, but I found this to be a compelling exercise to sharpen my memory and provide me with a better appreciation of the power that chronology plays in history. This was not just a dull recitation of facts, these lists lent themselves to the power of interpretation.

For instance, I realized the comparatively low number of Roman Emperors in the 2nd century versus the number in the 3rd century showed just how chaotic the empire had become. Civil Wars and problems on the frontiers with barbarian invasions had led to emperors being replaced at an alarming rate. Later as my interest in Eastern Europe grew, I began to memorize lists informed by the region. These included all the counties and country seats in Hungary or as many battles as I could recall on the Eastern Front during World War I. This later evolved into various mental games such as trying to see how many names of cities, towns, and villages I could recall in various Eastern European countries. While some might consider this habit mind numbing, I found it both educational and joyous.

Out of focus – Tijo at Prague Castle

Fallible Blessing – Less Than Total Recall
Memory can be a blessing or a curse. For me it has mostly been the former, particularly when recalling my travels. One day a couple of years ago, I sat down and listed every one of my trips to Eastern Europe. This started with points of arrival and departure for each trip along with the year they occurred. I then added many of the places I visited on these journeys. This gave me a general, but not quite exhaustive list of everywhere I had been. I began to realize that there were many places that I could barely recall. Memory being fallible, I sometimes mixed up the dates and places of my travels. This was especially true when I returned to some of the same countries on multiple occasions. As one might imagine, I found recalling the first time I had been somewhere much easier to remember.

Nevertheless, I still struggled to recall places, people and events from those travels. When this happened, I knew that I needed do a better job of documenting my journeys. Breaking them down into days would have been helpful, but I was too busy traveling to really care. My main form of documentation became photographic images. This is ironic because I crave the literal. I would always prefer to work with words, but Images are much easier to make in the digital age. Photography with a smart phone lends itself to moment-by-moment documentation. Looking at a set of photos in the order which they were taken is an easy way to catalog a journey. Not long ago, I went through over a hundred photos I took of a visit to Prague in 2012. Looking back at those photos I saw mostly buildings rather than people. Yet one of the images did show someone I had all but forgotten until he popped up on my screen.

Vivid & faded memory – As seen from Prague Castle

Passers By – All Too Human Experience
His name was Tijo, he spoke near perfect English and led several different Free Tours of Prague. I had not thought of Tijo in years until I saw him in one of my photos. I immediately recalled that he was from the Netherlands. Tijo had fallen in love with a Czech woman whom he met in Finland. They had moved back to Prague, which happened to be her hometown. The photo of Tijo was a memory trigger, helping me recall someone I had long since forgotten. This got me to thinking about all the other lost memories from my time in Prague. And for that matter, the lost memories of the people, places, and experiences I had in Eastern Europe. How many could I recall? There might be something meaningful – at least to me – lurking deep in my memory.

Prague was much more to me than world-famous attractions such as Prague Castle, Charles Bridge, Old Town Square, and the Astronomical Clock. Those are the sites which make for photogenic moments, but they also threaten to turn any visit into a vanity project. Photos are fine as proof of what someone has seen. What they cannot replicate is the human experience. And Prague for me, as in so many of my travels, was more about my interactions with people and places. The places I usually do not have trouble recalling, the people often get lost somewhere in my memory.  The ones I met in passing, the ones that met my eyes with a glance, the ones I felt were fellow travelers on a journey that like everything else in life would end all too suddenly. The ones who for whatever reason made an impression upon me and found their way into my memory bank. I have come to realize that it is time to open the vault and recollect forgotten treasures of these travel experiences.

Prague as people – On Charles Bridge

The Catch Basin – Tears In The Rain
While traveling, many of my human interactions seemed benign. Only in retrospect have I realized they must have meant something more to me. Otherwise, I would be unable to recall them. Perhaps it was the environment that made these interactions so memorable. I was alone, thousands of kilometers from home, at the mercy of a language I could scarcely understand. This brought me into contact with people I would come to know for only a few moments or minutes or hours at the absolute most. Their impressions upon me faded until one random day over a decade later they came back to confront me.

The people are inseparable from the places in which we met. Prague or Pula, Budapest or Bratislava, a squalid village or a scenic vista made them possible. The places act as miracles of magnetic attraction pulling wanderers from all over the world towards one another. If it was not for memory these moments would be lost in time like tears in the rain. Fortunately, I had a catch basin of cognitive recollection. And now the time has come to satisfy my thirst. To dive more deeply into a very personal past. This is my own personal voluntary memory project that begins in Prague and will continue across all my travels in Eastern Europe. I have no idea when this journey will come to an end. Hopefully never.

Click here for: The Perils of Parenting – Prague: Glittering Unhappiness (Eastern Europe & Me #8)