Vajdahunyad Castle

As is often the case, the origins of a landmark defy observation. I encountered Vajdahunyad Castle in City Park, Budapest, Hungary, and it appeared well-placed and historical. But the true story behind this structure is it was originally constructed from wood and cardboard for a millennial exhibition in 1896. Its success at the exhibition and its increasing popularity resulted in its reconstruction in stone and brick.

Further, it is a reasonable copy of a castle in Transylvania, Romania, also called Vajdahunyad.

Red Bull's Hangar-7

Across from the passenger terminal at Salzburg's airport sit two unique structures -- Hangar-7 and Hangar-8. A part of the Red Bull Energy Drink Empire. Here resides the Flying Bulls' collection of aircraft from the great eras of aviation. They are on display in Hangar-7. Their maintenance facility is Hangar-8.


A good portion of this historic and operational collection consists of a Douglas DC-6, Yugoslavia’s Air Force One, used by Marshal Tito; a North American B-25 Mitchell Bomber; a Chance Vought F4U-4 Corsair; a North American T-28 Trojan; an Alpha Jet; a Cessna CE 208 Caravan; and several different types of helicopters.


Hangar-7 is more than just architecturally pleasing aircraft hangar. It is shaped like a wing and its model had to pass a wind tunnel test prior to construction. Hangar-7 also houses an art gallery, meeting space for events, a restaurant and several bars, lounges and cafés. One of the lounges, the 360, is tucked into the ceiling of Hangar-7 and has a very transparent, glass floor. For me, it was quite an awkward sensation. And the restaurant, Ikarus, features top chefs from around the world who literally take over the kitchen for a month at a time.


When in Salzburg, Austria, don't miss a visit to Hangar-7.

Graffiti, Warszawa

I have converted to the view that street art, despite its critics, is a product of refined intellect, combined with skilled execution. Street art demands detailed planning, speed. Social commentary beyond the norms. Despite its quality, Spain does not have a lock on street art. Check out these I came across in Warsaw.

Flea Market Sofia

In an area in front of Sofia's Saint Alexander Nevsky Cathedral there is a daily flea market. It is quite a sight to behold.

Over the years I have become a devout attendee and shopper. Religious icons. Greek, Roman and Byzantine coins -- some real, some fake. Relics from the two world wars. If one looks closely, there certainly are a tremendous amount of left overs from a specific German u-boat. Fakes? Old cameras. Long forgotten utensils. And then there are Warsaw Pact era memorabilia. Uniforms, hats, medals, binoculars. Miniature bronze busts of Lenin, Stalin.

Fascinating, but buyer beware -- that must have been one large u-boat, with so much memorabilia left behind. In landlocked Sofia.

Plovdiv's Ancient Streets

If you have had a chance to walk around an old European centrum, you've no doubt come across cobblestone. Or just stone, ancient streets. Stones which may have been laid hundreds of years ago. Yet here they lie. We walk, perhaps stumble. Our shoes may or may not accomodate such surfaces. But back then?

One must admit that there is a degree of charm to these surfaces. Quite utilitarian as well. To get to plumbing beneath, simply remove stone, fix, replace stone.

I have a theory.

Murzasichle's Wood Church

This is a rural wooden church near Murzasichle, Poland.

Murzasichle is located in the south and has magnificent views of the High Tatra mountains.

Europe's Wooden Churches

When one thinks of Europe's centuries-old churches, stone structures come to mind. Cathedrals, chapels. But certainly there was a time when wooden churches populated most of Europe. Perhaps their heyday was in the early Medieval period. However, some very unique examples still survive, albeit off the beaten path. In lesser known areas in Central and Eastern Europe.

If you've never had the privilege to see or step inside a one, the experience is quite unexpected. Darker. Seemingly older. Naturally, wood ages differently than stone. The old buildings literally talk as the wood expands and contracts -- snaps. Haunting, yet appealing. And these structures are shared across denominations. Roman Catholic, Greek or Russian Orthodox. Protestant.

One can imagine meticulously surveying extant examples in Finland, Russia, the Czech and Slovak Republics, Hungary, Romania and the Balkans.

Door, Bulgaria

Doors, windows. Gates. All common. Some can be quite interesting. This one is apparently the entrance to a shoe shop in Hissar, Bulgaria.

Hissar is the site of an old Roman spa and resort in central Bulgaria, sacked by invaders from the north in the 3rd century AD. Recreation for the affluent, lost forever. Locals still haul away and consume its waters. Apparently for medicinal purposes.

Maypole

Maypoles (maibaum), a Germanic tradition, are not easily missed. As I've frequented West and Central European towns and villages, they are prominent in village squares during the late spring. There was quite a gathering around this one in Graz, Austria. So I had to ask -- what's with the pole?

I was informed May Day, with its requisite maypole, is a public event centered on a town or village "happening". The annual appearance of a maypole normally occurs either on the eve of the first day of May or the first day itself. As a centuries old tradition, this may include a village procession or parade with much music and spectating. I had missed the Graz parade and it was well after May Day; maypoles apparently stay in place for a month or longer. On this particular spring day, I did observe many eating sausage and drinking beer, though this may be mere coincidence. These are notable activities on just about any nice European day.

In other towns and villages, I've noticed erected maypoles adorned with empty bottles -- no doubt garnishment borne of a working gang's thirst, accoutrements required to select, deliver and stand a carefully prepared tree. I can only speculate the bottles once held pomp and circumstance in the form of vodka, schnapps, borovica, or slivovica.

I'm not surprised theories abound around the symbolism of the maypole and its varied decorations, with much speculation tied to some long lost pagan tradition -- similar to those which align behind the Christmas tree. I certainly have produced my own plethora of hypothetical explanations. Oh, Tannenbaum.

I was also informed that during the night of the last day of April, many a young man ventures into the woods, selects an appropriate tree, strips it of most its branches (except for the top), decorates it with his identifying "colors" and then erects it in front of a potential girlfriend's abode. For established pairings, it is custom to find a flowering fruit tree, under which to exchange a symbolic kiss -- Nature's calling for all to join in regeneration. It is at this point some theorists invite Sigmund Freud on in for comment.

From my point of view, the variable with May Day and maypoles is the application of local custom. The constant seems to be man's need to be in a recurring mode of celebration -- this being just another one of many.

Las Fallas

Las Fallas has to be Spain’s noisiest festival -- and hotest. Every March, Valencia celebrates Saint Joseph, the patron saint of carpenters. History obviously ties this annual tradition to the work of artisans, reaching back to the Middle Ages. Beginnings obscured, tradition evolved. For here, Valencia designs and constructs rather large, satirical papier-mâché figures. She then parades them around and burns them ala funeral pyre. Accompanied by fireworks. Of course -- it's Spain and it's fiesta. Nothing short of spectacular. One big, loud torching.

Las Fallas is actually the culmination of a year-long process as neighborhoods organize, plan, select a theme, design, fund raise and construct their own unique falla. These groups compete against each other to attract the best artists, painters, sculptors -- who then produce quite elaborate, cartoonish and combustible sculptures. And some of these monuments may reach up to five stories high. Yes, they are adorned and stuffed with pyrotechnics. It is not unusual for Valencia and her surrounding communities to generate 500 falla per festival.

The days and nights of this festival are quite rowdy -- all forms of procession abound. Historical, religious, satirical. A barrage of fireworks are unleashed into the streets by random pedestrians of all ages. Or anonymously launched high. Nonstop. Restaurants overflow into the streets. Traditional foods are fried or cooked on the pavement -- sold. Sounds and aromas mix and swirl; come and go.

Las Fallas concludes at midnight on the 19th with “the burn” (cremà). It begins in outer areas and moves towards Valencia's centrum. The falla in the Plaça de l'Ajuntament are torched last. Explosions. Erupting fire. Heat. In open areas, narrow streets. In proximity of historic façades. Windows, street signs, power lines. Multitudes, crowds. Moving. Spectators, held back, react to the intensity of the flames. Firemen watch and spray, keeping structures wet to mitigate damage. Then on to the next anticipated bonfire. Tradition tempers safety.

Yikes. This is a party? Burn baby burn.

March of the Big Heads

Gigantes y cabezudos. Dudes wearing large masks. Typical icons of Spanish festivals. Witness a parade there, expect big heads. Each town tends to have its own version. Parading, mingling. Hide your babies.

I know this week in Valencia, Spain, Las Fallas is underway, culminating on the 19th. (It runs for the first 19 days of March.) It's literally a display of large sculptures -- waiting to be set on fire. Fireworks. Accompanied by and parading with the big heads.

Gigants unleashed. Por supuesto.