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.

Click here for: 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)