boutons
07-31-2005, 07:43 PM
The New York Times
July 31, 2005
In Ljubljana, the Old Europe and the New Are Still in Balance
By ALEX CREVAR
FROM the 16th-century fortress walls atop Castle Hill, the view of Ljubljana is exquisite: waves of red-tiled roofs, turquoise domes, spires and, here and there, lacy bridges spanning the green Ljubljanica River, stitching the two sides of Slovenia's capital city together. The overall effect is that of a snow-globe town in the foothills of the Alps.
But as lovely as the view is, there is nothing in that macro-shot that suggests the current source of Ljubljana's vivacity - an intrinsic hum of energy that has, in recent months, generated avid comparisons to the city that everyone seems to long for: Prague circa 1995. The evidence, I decided, must lie in the streets below, so, on a recent summer morning, I headed past Ljubljana's weave of medieval, baroque, and Art Nouveau buildings toward Preseren Square, the city's bustling social hub, which is anchored by the 17th-century Franciscan Church of the Annunciation and monastery and the Triple Bridge.
There, vendors were busy selling wooden crafts and honey alongside Internet cafes and bistros filled with tourists and residents, many of them university students intent on their laptops or with their ears glued to cellphones. On the other side of the twin-towered Cathedral of St. Nicholas, the outdoor market was a blaze of color. Here, farmers bring their produce in on antediluvian wooden pushcarts, called cizas, from the village-like neighborhoods of Trnovo and Krakovo.
"We push in our homegrown vegetables because it's a tradition in Ljubljana," said Andrej Persin, a farmer. "Thirty years ago there might have been 40 cizas, today there are 10. It's a lot of work and difficult for our old-fashioned gardens to compete with big farms."
As I watched him arrange his dill, basil, cauliflower and lettuce, I realized I was standing on a nexus of sorts in a city that is itself a sort of synapse, where Blackberries and cellphones jibe with soil beneath fingernails. In Ljubljana, (pronounced LOO-blee-ah-nah) Old Europe still provides a tasteful, functional backdrop for a cool, microchip New Europe - a point evidenced by the meticulously modern Domina Grand Media Hotel. The hotel proclaims itself "the most technologically advanced hotel in the world" with plasma-screen televisions, Internet access and free calling in every room to 43 countries.
All this is precisely why Ljubljana is generating such excitement: the juxtaposition of old and new that, at the moment anyway, seems to be in a perfect, if precarious, balance. But how long can that balance last?
The buzz surrounding Ljubljana is not new. The city, a well-preserved center of Yugoslav-brand Communism and a graceful marriage of Slavic, Austrian, and Italian cultures, started to gain a reputation as an up-and-coming hotspot not long after Slovenia became independent 14 years ago.
But Ljubljana's international exposure surged in the spring of 2004 when Slovenia was admitted to the European Union and EasyJet, a budget airline based in Britain, began flying here - making the comfortable city center feel, at times, like a marvelously priced London suburb.
So far, Ljubljana, with a population of 300,000 that includes 60,000 college students, has enough genuine charm to withstand the exposure. Its river dreamily serves as the central theme for bistros, boutiques, meticulously crafted bridges, monuments, museums, and a town hall originally constructed in the 1400's.
As a group, the cluster of buildings - often described as "human" and "livable" and "balanced"-is just big enough to resemble a small city or just small enough to qualify as a big town. And while Slovenia is now a member of the European Union, Ljubljana is still a non-euro vacation bargain. Its struggle is to avoid becoming a parody of itself in today's destination-of-the-month climate.
For some, the suspense in seeing how long this balancing act holds up is intense. That's why the recent proposal for a 25-story "skyscraper" has caused more than a little consternation. The design, which calls for a building that would loom 10 floors higher than any other structure in the city, is seen as a conundrum for a town with an embarrassment of architectural and cultural riches - Ljubljana has three locally based symphony orchestras and 10,000 cultural events a year - and one keenly aware of the price that too much change can exact.
"I am not against modernization but the size of the proposed architecture will make the town's symbols funny in comparison," said Ales Vodopivec, University of Ljubljana's vice dean of architecture. "When you lose scale you lose identity. I'm frightened that if we lose our cultural reflection, it will signal a change that material things are most important."
Such discussion is typical in a place where the statue in the city center is not of a warrior or king, but instead of the 19th-century Slovene poet France Preseren, and where the local icon - Joze Plecnik - is an early 20th-century architect who spent his life tweaking the delicate interlacing of Ljubljana's different eras so that the cosmopolitan feng shui one feels here is unidentifiably invigorating. "I'm not sure why Ljubljana's cool, but it's really cool," said Damir Jezbec, a harmonica player and lifelong resident who spoke with me one night after his set with blues band "Jimmy and the Easy Walkers" at Planet Plocnik.
The outdoor cafe in Preseren Square has music nightly from spring to fall and is the center of a bar-hopping circuit that flows along the river's banks year round. "And it's a really great place for music. Everyone here plays something."
The next day, I sampled Ljubljana's offerings: a long walk through Tivoli Park, which is set askew across the city's northwest quadrant, followed by a visit to Plecnik's fascinating house and museum in Trnovo, where many of Ljubljana's characteristic ideas - the Triple Bridge, the colonnaded market in the town center, the tastefully simple National and University Library - were developed.
At Vinoteka Movia, a quiet wood-paneled wine shop and bar, I sipped a glass of Turno - a smooth combination of red and white Pinots - while Movia's general manager, Manca Mesesnel Hofler, explained what she saw as the prevailing attitude among Ljubljana's young women. "We want to marry foreign guys but stay here. Why would we bother going somewhere like France when we can stay here and have all the affordable good wine and food you'd want?"
Walking back out into Mestni Square, which is dominated by a 17th-century fountain representing the region's three rivers (the Sava, the Krka and the Ljubljanica) I turned into the Town Hall and then up the stairs for a meeting with Ljubljana's mayor, Danica Simsic. "Ljubljana is exactly the right size because all the major sites can be reached in a five-minute stroll," she said, adding that while the town had always been a strategic spot for travelers, Slovenia's admission to the European Union "has made the city a 'new star.' "
"But we don't want Ljubljana to become a kind of train station," she said. "We are trying to maintain its soul." (In an e-mail message after the interview, Ms. Simsic said, "We know what happened in Prague and Budapest, which is why Ljubljana pays special attention to the development of tourism.")
The tourist board's public relations manager, Petra Stusek, attributes much of the city's popularity among travelers to EasyJet. "When EasyJet started flying here last year things changed dramatically," she said. "Between 2003 and 2004 we had 23 percent more guests in the city." For all the efforts to avoid compromising Ljubljana's past, one of the most compelling attractions of the city is that it is not a museum piece. People live and work in the beautiful Baroque buildings. Events are still held in the Philharmonic where Gustav Mahler was once resident conductor. Break-dance competitions take place in the shadows of Ljubljana University in Kongresni trg (Congress Square). Mothers and fathers on inline skates push baby carriages across cobblestone streets. And local climbers scale the Roman wall of Ljubljana's predecessor, Emona, on the town's western edge.
Strolling past riverfront cafes teeming with business people and hipsters, I passed a farmer pushing a half-empty ciza over the Triple Bridge. In the background, the crenellated walls atop Castle Hill overlooked the city, as they has done for nearly 500 years, a promise, perhaps, that whatever change comes Ljubljana's way, its identity will be protected.
IF YOU GO
GETTING THERE
EasyJet, www.easyjet.com, flies to Ljubljana from Stansted Airport, serving London, and Berlin Schönefeld. Prices vary based on season and day. As of mid-July, fares for several September departures, were as low as $8.85, at $1.78 to the pound, one way from Berlin and $32 from London, leaving Sept. 27.
WHERE TO STAY
At the 214-room Domina Grand Media Hotel, singles are $184.50, at $1.23 to the euro. A limited number of single rooms are available in the summer for $49. Dunajska cesta 154, (386-1) 588 25 00, www.dominagmljubljana.com. Later this year, the hotel is changing its name to the Royal Media Ljubljana Hotel.
Each of the 20 rooms in the Celica - a hostel in a converted jail in the "alternative scene" area called Metelkova - has its own distinctive design. There are also four-person rooms and dorms. Cell rooms cost $27.50, at 191 Slovene tolar to the dollar, a person. Metelkova 8, (386-1) 230 97 00, www.hostelcelica.com.
WHERE TO DINE
Vinoteka Movia, Mestni Square 2, has a wall full of foreign and domestic wines, freshly sliced prosciutto and cheese, and a staff that will guide you through tastings. A bottle of Turno is about $18. Information: (386-1) 42 62 230.
Zlata Ribica (golden fish) is right on the river, open for lunch and dinner, and serves Slovene specialties like venison wrapped in bacon. A meal for one with appetizer and a glass of wine costs about $13. Cankarjevo nabrezje 5-7, (386-1) 241 26 80.
* Copyright 2005 The New York Times Company
July 31, 2005
In Ljubljana, the Old Europe and the New Are Still in Balance
By ALEX CREVAR
FROM the 16th-century fortress walls atop Castle Hill, the view of Ljubljana is exquisite: waves of red-tiled roofs, turquoise domes, spires and, here and there, lacy bridges spanning the green Ljubljanica River, stitching the two sides of Slovenia's capital city together. The overall effect is that of a snow-globe town in the foothills of the Alps.
But as lovely as the view is, there is nothing in that macro-shot that suggests the current source of Ljubljana's vivacity - an intrinsic hum of energy that has, in recent months, generated avid comparisons to the city that everyone seems to long for: Prague circa 1995. The evidence, I decided, must lie in the streets below, so, on a recent summer morning, I headed past Ljubljana's weave of medieval, baroque, and Art Nouveau buildings toward Preseren Square, the city's bustling social hub, which is anchored by the 17th-century Franciscan Church of the Annunciation and monastery and the Triple Bridge.
There, vendors were busy selling wooden crafts and honey alongside Internet cafes and bistros filled with tourists and residents, many of them university students intent on their laptops or with their ears glued to cellphones. On the other side of the twin-towered Cathedral of St. Nicholas, the outdoor market was a blaze of color. Here, farmers bring their produce in on antediluvian wooden pushcarts, called cizas, from the village-like neighborhoods of Trnovo and Krakovo.
"We push in our homegrown vegetables because it's a tradition in Ljubljana," said Andrej Persin, a farmer. "Thirty years ago there might have been 40 cizas, today there are 10. It's a lot of work and difficult for our old-fashioned gardens to compete with big farms."
As I watched him arrange his dill, basil, cauliflower and lettuce, I realized I was standing on a nexus of sorts in a city that is itself a sort of synapse, where Blackberries and cellphones jibe with soil beneath fingernails. In Ljubljana, (pronounced LOO-blee-ah-nah) Old Europe still provides a tasteful, functional backdrop for a cool, microchip New Europe - a point evidenced by the meticulously modern Domina Grand Media Hotel. The hotel proclaims itself "the most technologically advanced hotel in the world" with plasma-screen televisions, Internet access and free calling in every room to 43 countries.
All this is precisely why Ljubljana is generating such excitement: the juxtaposition of old and new that, at the moment anyway, seems to be in a perfect, if precarious, balance. But how long can that balance last?
The buzz surrounding Ljubljana is not new. The city, a well-preserved center of Yugoslav-brand Communism and a graceful marriage of Slavic, Austrian, and Italian cultures, started to gain a reputation as an up-and-coming hotspot not long after Slovenia became independent 14 years ago.
But Ljubljana's international exposure surged in the spring of 2004 when Slovenia was admitted to the European Union and EasyJet, a budget airline based in Britain, began flying here - making the comfortable city center feel, at times, like a marvelously priced London suburb.
So far, Ljubljana, with a population of 300,000 that includes 60,000 college students, has enough genuine charm to withstand the exposure. Its river dreamily serves as the central theme for bistros, boutiques, meticulously crafted bridges, monuments, museums, and a town hall originally constructed in the 1400's.
As a group, the cluster of buildings - often described as "human" and "livable" and "balanced"-is just big enough to resemble a small city or just small enough to qualify as a big town. And while Slovenia is now a member of the European Union, Ljubljana is still a non-euro vacation bargain. Its struggle is to avoid becoming a parody of itself in today's destination-of-the-month climate.
For some, the suspense in seeing how long this balancing act holds up is intense. That's why the recent proposal for a 25-story "skyscraper" has caused more than a little consternation. The design, which calls for a building that would loom 10 floors higher than any other structure in the city, is seen as a conundrum for a town with an embarrassment of architectural and cultural riches - Ljubljana has three locally based symphony orchestras and 10,000 cultural events a year - and one keenly aware of the price that too much change can exact.
"I am not against modernization but the size of the proposed architecture will make the town's symbols funny in comparison," said Ales Vodopivec, University of Ljubljana's vice dean of architecture. "When you lose scale you lose identity. I'm frightened that if we lose our cultural reflection, it will signal a change that material things are most important."
Such discussion is typical in a place where the statue in the city center is not of a warrior or king, but instead of the 19th-century Slovene poet France Preseren, and where the local icon - Joze Plecnik - is an early 20th-century architect who spent his life tweaking the delicate interlacing of Ljubljana's different eras so that the cosmopolitan feng shui one feels here is unidentifiably invigorating. "I'm not sure why Ljubljana's cool, but it's really cool," said Damir Jezbec, a harmonica player and lifelong resident who spoke with me one night after his set with blues band "Jimmy and the Easy Walkers" at Planet Plocnik.
The outdoor cafe in Preseren Square has music nightly from spring to fall and is the center of a bar-hopping circuit that flows along the river's banks year round. "And it's a really great place for music. Everyone here plays something."
The next day, I sampled Ljubljana's offerings: a long walk through Tivoli Park, which is set askew across the city's northwest quadrant, followed by a visit to Plecnik's fascinating house and museum in Trnovo, where many of Ljubljana's characteristic ideas - the Triple Bridge, the colonnaded market in the town center, the tastefully simple National and University Library - were developed.
At Vinoteka Movia, a quiet wood-paneled wine shop and bar, I sipped a glass of Turno - a smooth combination of red and white Pinots - while Movia's general manager, Manca Mesesnel Hofler, explained what she saw as the prevailing attitude among Ljubljana's young women. "We want to marry foreign guys but stay here. Why would we bother going somewhere like France when we can stay here and have all the affordable good wine and food you'd want?"
Walking back out into Mestni Square, which is dominated by a 17th-century fountain representing the region's three rivers (the Sava, the Krka and the Ljubljanica) I turned into the Town Hall and then up the stairs for a meeting with Ljubljana's mayor, Danica Simsic. "Ljubljana is exactly the right size because all the major sites can be reached in a five-minute stroll," she said, adding that while the town had always been a strategic spot for travelers, Slovenia's admission to the European Union "has made the city a 'new star.' "
"But we don't want Ljubljana to become a kind of train station," she said. "We are trying to maintain its soul." (In an e-mail message after the interview, Ms. Simsic said, "We know what happened in Prague and Budapest, which is why Ljubljana pays special attention to the development of tourism.")
The tourist board's public relations manager, Petra Stusek, attributes much of the city's popularity among travelers to EasyJet. "When EasyJet started flying here last year things changed dramatically," she said. "Between 2003 and 2004 we had 23 percent more guests in the city." For all the efforts to avoid compromising Ljubljana's past, one of the most compelling attractions of the city is that it is not a museum piece. People live and work in the beautiful Baroque buildings. Events are still held in the Philharmonic where Gustav Mahler was once resident conductor. Break-dance competitions take place in the shadows of Ljubljana University in Kongresni trg (Congress Square). Mothers and fathers on inline skates push baby carriages across cobblestone streets. And local climbers scale the Roman wall of Ljubljana's predecessor, Emona, on the town's western edge.
Strolling past riverfront cafes teeming with business people and hipsters, I passed a farmer pushing a half-empty ciza over the Triple Bridge. In the background, the crenellated walls atop Castle Hill overlooked the city, as they has done for nearly 500 years, a promise, perhaps, that whatever change comes Ljubljana's way, its identity will be protected.
IF YOU GO
GETTING THERE
EasyJet, www.easyjet.com, flies to Ljubljana from Stansted Airport, serving London, and Berlin Schönefeld. Prices vary based on season and day. As of mid-July, fares for several September departures, were as low as $8.85, at $1.78 to the pound, one way from Berlin and $32 from London, leaving Sept. 27.
WHERE TO STAY
At the 214-room Domina Grand Media Hotel, singles are $184.50, at $1.23 to the euro. A limited number of single rooms are available in the summer for $49. Dunajska cesta 154, (386-1) 588 25 00, www.dominagmljubljana.com. Later this year, the hotel is changing its name to the Royal Media Ljubljana Hotel.
Each of the 20 rooms in the Celica - a hostel in a converted jail in the "alternative scene" area called Metelkova - has its own distinctive design. There are also four-person rooms and dorms. Cell rooms cost $27.50, at 191 Slovene tolar to the dollar, a person. Metelkova 8, (386-1) 230 97 00, www.hostelcelica.com.
WHERE TO DINE
Vinoteka Movia, Mestni Square 2, has a wall full of foreign and domestic wines, freshly sliced prosciutto and cheese, and a staff that will guide you through tastings. A bottle of Turno is about $18. Information: (386-1) 42 62 230.
Zlata Ribica (golden fish) is right on the river, open for lunch and dinner, and serves Slovene specialties like venison wrapped in bacon. A meal for one with appetizer and a glass of wine costs about $13. Cankarjevo nabrezje 5-7, (386-1) 241 26 80.
* Copyright 2005 The New York Times Company