Kaliningrad, Where Prussia Loses the “P”
The medieval city, then called Koenigsberg, served as its capital. How German was Koenigsberg? Immanuel Kant, a philosopher so fastidious that neighbors could set their clocks by his daily walks, spent his entire life there.
But what strikes you immediately upon arrival in the city of nearly half a million is that the Russians have really made it their own. In the years after Stalin nabbed it at the Potsdam Conference, it was utterly Soviet-ized, razed and re-built. Over the past two decades, it’s been New Russified, with towering shopping malls, chain restaurants, megaplexes and slots parlors.
Such banalities may seem fatal to such a small place – but the contrasts they provoke are what make the city fascinating. Bright red new brick sits solidly next to crumbling Khrushchev-era concrete panels. The spotless white marble of a brand new Orthodox church gleams across from the early Modernist German box that houses the city government. A picture of President Medvedev adorns the window sill of a shop connected to the Brandenburg Gates, one of Kaliningrad’s eight fortified entry points built in the 1850s, all of which somehow survived both British bombing in World War II and select dismantling by the Politburo in the years that followed. Tourists looking for an “authentic” Kaliningrad experience will have to distill it from this delightful historical mishmash.
A good place to start this adventure is the baffling House of Soviets. Some say that its pair of protruding rectangles makes it look like a giant boom-box. Perhaps a more fitting analogue to this clunky monstrosity is an overly ambitious Lego creation. The would-be congress hall’s construction is so shoddy that it might as well have been designed by a child; it sits vacant to this day. So what Koenigsberg did Brezhnev-era bureaucrats demolish to make room for this eyesore? Oh, merely the King’s Castle, one of the most exquisite specimens of medieval architecture in all of Europe. The storybook edifice had been the pulse point of the old city, witnessing the coronations of Prussian sovereigns Frederick I and William I. Its walls housed famed libraries, impressionist paintings, and a beer hall. But after it was ravaged by British bombs in 1945, Soviet authorities decided it wasn’t worth restoring an idol of monarchist oppression, so the picturesque ruins were carted away in 1969. If you want to find bite to eat while gazing on the monstrosity that stands there now, you’d better pack a picnic lunch – the surrounding grounds have returned to nature.
Lest we get misty over the lost castle, consider that Kaliningrad is also home to an array of perfectly preserved artifacts that predate the castle by millions of years: amber. The Kaliningrad region has so much of the sticky yellow stuff that there’s an entire museum devoted to it. The collection is housed in Don’s Tower, a formidable three-story garrison named after a 19th-century Prussian general. The Amber Museum boasts 28 halls, and none of that space goes to waste. A fun game to play as you tour the endless avant-garde wing is to imagine absurd ideas for sculptures – a miniature poodle wearing a bowtie, for instance, or a bumblebee-sized gasoline canister – and wait for them to appear. With the above proposals, you would be two for two.
Meanwhile, those who get off on critiquing pure reason (and really, what’s not to hate?) will be sure to stop by the resting place of Koenigsberg's most illustrious resident, Immanuel Kant. The sober square columns around this austere tomb are a fitting tribute to the hermit-philosopher, as is the adjacent Koenigsberg Cathedral, an immaculately renovated version of a structure almost completely leveled by the British. Philosophy majors and other devotees can trace the path of Kant’s daily walk, from which it’s said he never strayed. Whether he would elect to shift it nowadays to avoid the kitschy Fisherman's Village complex across the Pregel River or the drunks in a nearby park is disputable.
Regardless of Kant’s plans, any Kaliningrad itinerary should include a visit to the Kaliningrad Philharmonic. With its magnificent clock tower and cone-capped crenellations, this monument to music is stunning in close-up. What makes it truly memorable, however, is how out-of-place it looks flanked by a sea-green walls of withering apartment blocks, punctuated by graffiti and patches of exposed brick. Incongruous or no, the admirable reconstruction effort on this neo-gothic gem is encouraging evidence of the city’s budding respect for its historical landmarks. But don’t stand gawking at the outside when musical edification awaits within! Works by the likes of Strauss and Gershwin can be heard there nightly.
Having you’ve fed your soul, it’s time to eat something more substantial. What’s that? A microbrewery/restaurant housed in a former keep, connected to something called the King's Gates? This must truly be the land of Bismarck and bratwurst. You’re close enough, at least, among the brass vats of this pub, where the local unfiltered brews are poured into both glasses and frying pans, adding a bittersweet tang to butterfly shrimp and other appetizers. Once the cheeky beer maidens have got you happy with hops, you can tour the arched tunnels of the spooky unrenovated portion of the building.
While the city’s charms are many, it would be crazy to come to all the way to Kaliningrad without venturing to the Curorian spit. Don’t let the latitude fool you into thinking that the Baltic coast is only for polar bear swimmers. What you’ll find instead is a natural strip of white sand and pine trees, where sloping dunes provide shelter from the wind and a developed network of quirky tourist towns (think suave fish hawkers and middle-aged women in frilly retro bathing suits) have beds for all budgets. Just an hour’s drive from the region’s capital, you can spend a sun-drenched day on the beach here or split your time between the urban and the wild – there's hiking, biking, and bird-watching galore on this curious landmass. You’ll almost forget you’re in Russia.
(Photos by Nick Kharchenko)