Category Archives: Kaliningrad Region’s bars, cafes, restaurants, hotels

Telegraph Restaurant Zelenogradsk

Telegraph Restaurant Zelenogradsk Wired for Quality

Over the wire the buzz word is Telegraph

25 October 2024 ~ Telegraph Restaurant Zelenogradsk Wired for Quality

“It’s all so confusing,” so says a friend of mine and quite often. He’s a scientist, now retired, so he should know. And he’s referring to life. When I echo his sentiments, “It’s all so confusing,” he invariably replies, “It often is,” and sometimes he will say, “… but it is also often quite exciting.” Sometimes, when reflecting on life, he opines, “It don’t make sense!” And although, ‘it’s all so confusing’ and also ‘often exciting’, it actually does make sense that there are two Telegraphs: one I wrote about recently, which is in Svetlogorsk, and the other of which I am writing now, this one is in Zelenogradsk. The Telegraph in Svetlogorsk is a cafe and an art gallery, whilst the Telegraph in Zelenogradsk a restaurant.

Telegraph Restaurant Zelenogradsk front entrance

Each Telegraph has a different function, but both are eponymously named after the same function their buildings had when the world was a different place.

The Telegraph Restaurant

The Telegraph restaurant in Zelenogradsk occupies the building of the old German telegraph and post office, which was established in the coastal resort in 1896. It is located at the top end of the high street. However, as the terms ‘top end’ and ‘bottom end’ are absolutely subjective, serving no useful purpose to man or beast, let me qualify its location by adding that it lies at the end of Zelenogradsk’s high street nearest the bus and train stations and not the end where the public park and sand is.

Telegraph Restaurant Zelenogradsk

The old telegraph building is one of those solid, stalwart red-brick affairs, instantly identifiable within the Kaliningrad region as being authentically German. In the summer months, a small area is set aside on the pavement next to the building for al-fresco dining and drinking; in winter, during the festive season, this same area is requisitioned for Telegraph’s contribution to the town’s impressive transformation into an imaginatively lit and magically decorated New Year’s holiday wonderland.

Whilst it occupies the ground floor of the former telegraph office, the contemporaneous Telegraph is accessed by a flight of steps. “It don’t make sense!” “It rarely does!”, with the exception of this region, where ground floors are often elevated above the basements below them to let in light from windows at pavement level.

On entering into the stairwell, the scene is set for the Telegraph experience. The walls are bare, stripped of their plaster, exposing the brick beneath. A black facsimile telegraph pole stands in sharp relief, and further along an illusory hole containing some kind of map twinkles in the muted light from illuminated markers. This introduction tells you in no uncertain terms that the Telegraph’s interior will not be run of the mill. It prepares you for an industrialised look with novel touches of retrospective modernity in keeping with the telegraph legacy from which it takes its thematic cue.

Exposed brickwork arch in the Telegraph restaurant

The two rooms, which are actually one room joined but visually separated by a deep, broad arch, continue the bare-brick look. The ceiling has a patchy effect, as though some of the plaster has fallen off, but as none lies on the floor below, we must chalk this up to designer licence. The lightbulbs in the industrial lampshades are the visible filament kind, they compliment the shabby chic, and the untrunked cable which supplies their power openly climb the walls.

The here and now in which we live may be the ‘wireless age’, but back in the day when the Telegraph building fulfilled its original function, the term ‘hard wired’ was literal. Appropriately, therefore, no attempt has been made to conceal the wires that link the bulbs. They travel across the ceiling in an exhibition of bold impunity.

Hanging lights in the Telegraph

The world of wires and plugs, the working environment of yesteryear’s telegraph offices is captured in some detail in the large, framed black and white photographs arranged around the restaurant’s walls. Study these at your leisure to see just how much times have changed.

Black & White photo of old telegraph office
Switchboard operators in a busy telegraph office

The theme of the mechanical age continues in the restaurant’s choice of tables. Old treadle sewing machines dating in manufacture and use from the 19th to mid-20th centuries make attractive tables once the machines have been removed.

The leading manufacturer of hand-operated and treadle machines was a company known as Singer, who suspended the Singer name in the mid-section of a wrought-iron framework, bridging the divide between whilst connecting the table’s end supports. The elaborate nature of the frame’s decoration is what gives the tables their appealing clout, and it is thumbs up to the Telegraph restaurant for retaining the tables’ pivoting foot pedals. Attractive features in themselves, should you be prone to tippy tapping, as in his youth was one of my brothers, these pedals will entertain your feet at the same time as you sit and eat.

Sewing machine table in Telegraph Restaurant Zelenogradsk

Telegraph Restaurant Zelenogradsk

Telegraph is a restaurant, it isn’t really a bar, but it has a bar of sorts, and I like that. I never feel at home and cannot quite get comfortable drinking alcohol in a barless zone. Sitting in a restaurant, seated around a table without a bar in sight just doesn’t do it for me. I liken the experience to sitting in a car which does not have a steering wheel. Without a bar something is missing; most likely it’s the bar. 

Bar area in Zelenogradsk Telegraph

For all its designer emphasis on the basic nitty gritty, Telegraph is cozy. In the all-important lighting department, which is the principal component in any attempt at coziness, Telegraph scores 11 out of 10. Excuse me, whilst I correct myself, my maths are notoriously weak; I meant to say scores 12.

In one sense, this is not good. Telegraph is so terribly cozy that it’s hard to get me out of there. Thank heavens that buses and trains work to things called timetables, which is something else worth mentioning. Telegraph is but a short walk away from the town’s bus and train stations, making it, if you time it right, and I usually make sure that I do, the perfect stopping-off place on your outward journey and a convenient traveller’s rest at which to pause on your way in.

Talking of food, as we now are, Telegraph’s speciality is the promotion of Baltic cuisine. It must be up to snuff as the restaurant is duly cited in Wheretoeat [in] Russia 2024 and in December 2022 was awarded the regional title of ‘Baltic Cuisine’.

Ah, but it’s a grand menu to get lost in, isn’t it? But now that you are back, ask yourselves a question, are you fans of quirky? I most definitely am, particularly when it involves valuing and sustaining dying traditions. Thus imagine my delight on discovering that the present-day Telegraph salutes its earlier namesake by enabling its patrons to buy, write and send postcards directly from its premises to anywhere in the world. Who needs digital messaging and who needs things like WhatsApp when you’ve a pen, a card, a stamp and post box! WhatsUp with that? Nothing!

Telegraph at Zelenogradsk post box
Postcards can be sent from the Telegraph restaurant at Zelenogradsk

My scientist friend, the one whom I mentioned at the beginning of this post, has a variety of different catchphrases to suit or not to suit as the case may be the topic of almost every conversation. For example, whenever we discuss Britain’s existential threat, the not-accidental migrant invasion, he will with cynicism and irony ask: “Well, what can we do about it?” When we are feeling philosophical, ruminating together on the mysteries of time, “Where would we be without it?” And when we discuss giants of history ~ politicians, generals, luminaries of the silver screen, pop stars, authors, artists and the figureheads of the American mob ~ his concluding remark is likely to be “And it didn’t do them any good!”

Let’s try to apply these questions and statements to the Telegraph in Zelenogradsk:

What can we do about it? Go there!
Where would we be without it? Deprived.
It didn’t do them any good! Well, obviously it didn’t. Because they decided to go somewhere else when they should have gone to Telegraph.

You see, when you look at it scientifically, it all makes perfect sense!

Telegraph restaurant
Kurortny pr., 29, Zelenogradsk, Kaliningrad region, Russia, 238326
Tel: +7 908 290-55-21
Website: https://telegraph.rest/

Opening times:
Mon to Thurs: 12 noon to 11pm
Friday: 12 noon to 12 midnight
Saturday: 11am to 12 midnight
Sunday: 11am to 11pm

Note: Reservations required

Mick Hart at the Telegraph Restaurant Zelenogradsk

A serious business: Should I finish my pint first and then drink my marzipan-flavoured vodka or vice versa?

Copyright © 2018-2024 Mick Hart. All rights reserved.

Balt Restaurant Zelenogradsk Russia

Zelenogradsk Restaurant BALT a Lesson in Harmony

Balt Restaurant Zelenogradsk Review

Updated: 30 June 2024 | First Published: 29 January 2023 ~ Zelenogradsk Restaurant BALT a Lesson in Harmony

I’m sure, almost certain, that it was not there 18 months ago when I last visited Zelenogradsk (doesn’t time fly!), but it was there now. I am talking about a new restaurant ~ new to me ~ that sits smack bang at the midway point of Zelenogradsk’s serpentine high street: a large, impressive, luxurious establishment set back from the street inside a broad paved plaza, its plate-glass single-storey extension forming a scaled juxtaposition against the taller four-storey building to which it is attached, the latter meticulously refurbished to a grand and imposing standard.

In the winter months when we were in town, the first impression of this restaurant from the outside looking in was PC; that’s not politically correct, but plush and cosy.

It was bitterly cold that day, and if the hallmark of a successful bar or restaurant is principally defined by the pulling power it possesses to tempt one off the street, then rest assured Balt restaurant has it.

Oh, did I forget to tell you? The name of the restaurant is Balt.

The first impression from the exterior of the building, which is so categorically  bourgeoisie that Lenin had turned his back to it, was swish. I made a mental note, a simple equation: plush+posh+impressive+coastal-resort-town-centre = expensive. So, let’s jump to the bill. We had three dishes, nothing elaborate, a speciality tea and a glass of beer. It didn’t break the bank.

Mick Hart with Lenin in Zelenogradsk

The second impression the Balt conveys is ‘big’. “It’s so big!” say your senses, when perhaps what they should be saying is not that it’s so ‘big’ but “It’s so tall”! In keeping with the modern trend in bar and restaurant design, the Balt is undeniably big, but, initially and accurately, the spaciousness perceived is confined to the height of the ceiling. In fact, the seating area which leads away from the entrance hall is limited to the perimeter of the extended part of the building; it forms the letter ‘L’, being a long, but slightly wider than the word implies, corridor. This is because, once again conforming to popular predilections, the restaurant is built around the kitchen, in other words built to a plan in which a centralised kitchen is King.

In the olden days, restaurants concealed their kitchens as though they were the black sheep of the family, the philosophy seeming to be ‘out of sight, out of mind’. This closeted mentality was an excellent way of keeping patrons on edge, since they never knew come the following morning, having enjoyed their meal the night before, whether their friends would be ready and waiting to scream, “You didn’t eat there, did you!” and then hamming it up with relish, proceed to recount in lurid detail the latest hygiene scandal.

Today, there is no need to be told by the ‘well-meaning’ ~ friends, family or the media ~ what goes on in restaurant kitchens, because everything is on display and laid out for the eyes to see. Restaurant kitchens have come of age. They are open, accessible, uninhibited, something to be admired, something to be proud of, not hidden away like a seedy back room in the depths of a mucky book shop. Restaurant kitchens have been emancipated, and a large part of that liberation lies in the transformation from an observance of cautious propriety to out-and-out exhibitionism.

True, some bar and restaurant designs tend to over-egg the soufflé. Displaying a kitchen eagerly in all its stainless steel, hygiene-oriented, busy, industrious, functioning glory is one thing, but it is quite another and quite inexcusable to overdo the exposure. Thankfully, Balt’s kitchen is a far more sophisticated and in-keeping centrepiece, enabling it to escape comparison with a man in a mac on a hill surrounded by too little foliage. I think the word I am searching for is ‘subtle’.

In fact, everything about Balt, not in its individual accoutrements but taken as a job lot, regarded in its entirety, is the epitome of subtle. How this works exactly is rather clever, because Balt is far and away not without a surprise or two, not undernourished in novelty.

Zelenogradsk Restaurant BALT

We were able to appreciate both the component parts of this dichotomy and its overarching effect from the favourable location of the table to which we had been escorted. The seats to which we had been shown occupied the latter portion upon the longer extension of the ‘L’ shaped room, almost at its inflection, thus availing us of a first-class view of each and all the different elements, which, when assembled as a whole, add up to the Balt experience.

First off, we were close to the kitchen, just a few feet away from the serving area: a long, curved counter on which chefs add the finishing touches to the dishes they are preparing before popping them into the tandoor oven, and from which attentive waiters pick up meals that are ready to go.

Chef Balt Restaurant Zelenogrask

From our vantage point, we had a privileged view of the kitchen and the floor-to-ceiling tandoor, a large cylindrical-shaped oven used for baking unleavened flatbreads and for roasting meat. Once the open oven door and blazing fire beyond had ceased to remind me of crematoria, it was fun to watch the chef at work, sliding the various dishes and breads into the wood-fired oven with the help of a peel, a long-handled shovel-like implement with a flat metal pan attached to its furthest extremity.

Chef uses tandoor oven in Zelenogradsk restaurant Balt

Looking straight ahead, I noted with satisfaction the high-backed wooden chairs belonging to the nearest table. The back rests consisted of two vertical ebonised planks slightly angled toward one another. Close to their highest point a pair of semi-circles had been cut out so that in alignment they formed a circle. The only other concession to decoration was the seemingly random inclusion of small, pierced motifs ~ simple shapes which donated a touch of mystique without disturbing the minimalist balance.

Ebonised plank chair in resturant frequented by Mick Hart

My forward view also provided examples of ingenious lighting styles, including a heavy, orange tassel-roped pendant and lampshades mimicking small sheaths of straw.

Rope lamp shade in Zelenogradsk restaurant

The tables to the left and behind me were objects to be marvelled at. The tops were made of marble, the ends scalloped to give an uncut look. They were supported on a cluster of angled posts, recycled wave-breaking poles, some of which had been allowed to protrude through the table’s surface, and hovering above them with remarkable pendulosity was a clump or cluster of shell-like bowls, off-white in shade and in shape asymmetrical, which had me wondering, out loud as it happens, if they were really made from the pumpkin skins I imagined they were or from moulded papier-mâché

Zelenogradsk restaurant tables Flintstone-style.

Every item in the Balt’s atmospheric makeup is an imagistic letter in the word and concept of ‘Natural’: wood, stone, fire, rope, straw, vegetables. At one end of the subtle spectrum, Fred Flintstone and Barney Rubble would not look out of place, but the Balt’s natural is a polished natural that borrows as much for its appeal on the application of chic sophistry as it does from down-to-earth and back-to-nature. 

Crazy paving restaurant floor Baltic Coast
Balt restaurant bar servery

For all its emphasis on the natural world, Balt’s designers’ have hedged their bets, choosing not to preclude but include the fashionable tried and tested, omniprevalent in bar and restaurant, distressed industrial look.

This approach has become so widespread that it has gone beyond ‘must have’ to ‘can’t do without’. In the Balt, it has gone one further, becoming ‘Would you Adam and Eve it, the concept actually works!’:  rocks, marble, stoneware vases, corn plants, vegetables and pieces of tree, rub along quite nicely, thank you, with gnarled brickwork, whitewashed slat-board, old beam ceilings, exposed ventilation ducts and suspended arty farty spots.

Zelenogradsk Restaurant BALT old brickwork

It is a tribute to Balt’s interior designers that they have managed to pull off a subtle, seamless fusion of modern chic and reclaimed-rundown and then wrap it all up in an eco-friendly ethnicity.

Harmony at the Balt restaurant, Zelenogradsk

In a nutshell ~ and I am sure that Balt would approve of the use of such natural imagery ~ the key word to Balt’s come-hither and dine-within appeal is harmony. Everything, including things that would normally be at odds with each other, are wedlocked. It might be a marriage of convenience, but one that is no less perfect for it. Even the ethnic music, with its emphasis on tom-tom beat and repetitive chanting, is low-key, Sade-like and subtle.

At the centre and everywhere else of this is lighting. I’ve said it before; I’ve said it again; I’ll say it again and keep on saying it: from Restaurant Guy Savoy in Paris to The Four Seasons B&B in Brightlingsea, if the lighting is not right everything else will be wrong. Lighting is the magic drawstring that pulls everything together.

Balt’s lighting is soft, suffused and artistically modulated: a harmonising integration of ambient-sensitive ceiling spots and downlighters, overhead table pendants ~ each paired with its own novel shade ~ soft-glow wall lights, natural fire and candles. It’s good, because it works. It works because it’s good.

At this juncture, I know what you are thinking: So much for the Balt’s design; what about the grub?

Those of you who have read any of my bar/restaurant reviews will know that when it comes to food I’m hopeless. Why do I go to bars? To drink. Why do I go to restaurants? Usually because the company I’m in wants to go to restaurants, and so I tag along, but also because, as you may have deduced, I am an ardent fan of interior design and a connoisseur of atmosphere. 

As a baked-beans-on-toast man, a man who likes simple food, I cannot provide you with a gourmet breakdown of the range of food Balt has to offer or the quality of its meals, and neither shall I try. However, a quick twirl around the internet should satisfy your curiosity. It might even tell you all you need to know.

Menu from the BALT restaurant

Our order at the Balt amounted to a snackette: a spicey vegetable platter on oven-baked bread ~ a white leavened flatbread similar in texture and taste to naan ~ and some exotic-looking poppadoms. It was not in the least expensive, but I will say that presentation took precedence over quantity. Now, were you to indulge in a main meal, the situation may be completely reversed or, like everything else at Balt, a happy medium struck.

I had a beer, naturally. It was palatable but served up in one of those peculiar ‘neither here nor there’ glasses, ie glasses that are neither small nor large, which frankly I find irritating. Half a litre, fine; half a half litre, fine; anything else exceeds my mathematical ability (see Soul Garden post).

The Balt, I am told, offers a range of dishes based on Indian subcontinent fare, which is something of a luxury in this part of the world. The prices are so-so, but not so expensive that they will tear the lining out of your pocket, and the carefully choreographed atmosphere, which is as restful and relaxing as it gets, beats anything I have experienced anywhere else in the Kaliningrad region or for that matter in the UK. Recommend the Balt? I’d buy it if I could!

💚 Around the Kaliningrad region

Angel Park Hotel > An inspirational rural recreation centre on the site of an East Prussian settlement
Amber Legend Restaurant > Amber Legend Yantarny, a jewel in the coastal town of Yantarny
Fishdorf Country Guest Complex > A family-oriented retreat, secluded and steeped in nature
Fort Dönhoff (Fort XI) > An evocative 19th century redbrick fortress, part of Königsberg’s labyrinth defence network
Polessk Brewery > Beer, history and German-Gothic architecture (that’s my personal order of preference!)

Copyright © 2018-2024 Mick Hart. All rights reserved.

Amber Legend restaurant Yantarny

Amber Legend Yantarny is a jewel in the coastal town!

Yantarny: sea, sand and the Amber Legend restaurant

Updated: 24 August 2022 | First published: 30 April 2022 ~ Amber Legend Yantarny is a jewel in the coastal town!

The ‘Amber Restaurant’ as people refer to it, although its real name is Amber Legend, is located in Yantarny, a small coastal resort nestled on the edge of the Baltic in Russia’s Kaliningrad region. Yantarny is held in high regard for its Blue Flag beach, which is all white sand, and for its good, clean air.

It is also known for the Amber Legend, a novel and attractive restaurant cunningly constructed on a split-level plan.

Built on a fairly steep incline, the pavement entrance to Amber Legend accesses what is effectively the upper ground floor, while the doors at the rear of the building lead to the lower level.

Externally, the building is invested with more than a touch of the neoclassical. It follows a simple but imposing geometrical outline, with dominating rectangular upright supports, a balustrade balcony traversing the width of the building and a matching balustrade parapet. After an introduction of this calibre, anything less internally, both upper and lower level, would be disappointing, but happily this is not the case: aesthetic integrity and continuity are safely, indeed inspiringly, assured.

The question is, however, why did the proprietors of the Amber Legend not call their establishment ‘Blue Flag restaurant’, ‘good clean air’ or ‘split-level neoclassical eatery’? Why the ‘Amber’ and why the ‘Legend’?

There are two possible reasons, one lesser known to some and the other, one trusts, obvious to anyone who has frequented the restaurant in person. The first most conceivably has to do with Yantarny’s massive amber reserves. Approximately 90 per cent of the world’s amber resources are sitting in Yantarny. They are mined upon an industrial scale using the open-quarry method.

The second, inspired by the first, has visible connotations, since both the exterior and interior of the building are lavishly decorated with variegated stones of genuine polished amber. Inside the restaurant the precious ancient resin is taken to another level of artistic meritocracy, as richly inlaid amber panels of many different hues sharing geometrical space with amber art assemblages. (Thanks for the word, Vit!) vie for your attention.

Amber Legend Yantarny
Artwork Amber Legend Yantarny

There are amber trims to the seats; amber-studded back rests; inset amber wall plaques; the bar is adorned with amber; and the ceiling-suspended lamp shades, bowls of amber inlay, are interwoven tiffany style.

Of particular note are the broad wooden panels, chain-hoisted close to the ceiling, each containing a window of different coloured amber stones lamp-backed for illumination.

Confoundingly, when we visited the restaurant, it was during the daylight hours, so that although in the room’s darker recesses some of the lamps were lit, the full effect of the interplay between light source and amber creation was lost in the dilution of overpowering, brilliant sunlight. However, the upside to this was in the excuse that it presented, which was as good as any that I could invent, for returning on an evening to witness what most assuredly must be a lighting display of artistic splendour.

  • Bar & Dance Floor Amber Legend
  • Amber Panels in Yaltarny restuarant
  • Bar & Dance Floor Kaliningrad region restaurant
  • Amber Legend bar
  • Interior decor restaurant Russia
  • Amber light panels in Yaltarny restaurant
  • Amber Legend Yaltarny bar

Another sphere of artistic splendour, according to my wife, who had dined at Amber Legend before, was lurking in the toilets, and this, she said, was something that I must see.

Amber Legend Yantarny legendary toilet

Now, contrary to what you may have been told, I am not in the habit, not even rarely, of taking a camera into the toilet, but called upon by my wife to do so, strictly on account of the brilliance of the interior décor, I cast caution to the wind, in a manner of speaking, and made an exception on this occasion. The result of this promiscuity is documented here in two revealing photographs, illustrating the continuation of the amber theme, both in the ornamentation surrounding the wash basins and, more spectacularly, in a glass-windowed chamber recessed within the toilet floor, where chunks of amber of novel shapes and some of prodigious proportions turn everyday humble toilet into a veritable natural history museum, even at the inconvenience of others wanting to use the convenience.

You may have liked the loo, but do you like the blue? In my humble opinion, the TARDIS-blue woodwork that repeats itself throughout the restaurant, including the toilet, creates the perfect frame for the amber displays. It is just neutral enough without subsiding into plain and functions as a recall feature of Amber Legend’s personalised style. I call the colour TARDIS blue because recognisably that is what it is, which is why I should imagine we chose this colour for our TARDIS, the one that we built at home. But then, I suppose, it is not that unusual; just the colour of choice for everyone’s TARDIS.

At this point I would normally add a footnote about the food, so why disappoint. But first a caveat. As you probably recall, whilst making allowances for having been called gormless ~ and who wouldn’t want to be, for it is such a lovely word ~ gourmet I am not. Beer needs volume; food needs volume. There is only one winner. But, when we visited Amber Legend I was feeling rather peckish, so I did partake of the pizza, which was pretty good as pizza goes. However, my fellow patrons, who needless to say were more adventurous in their choice of dishes than I, as most normal people appear to be, reliably informed me that their meals were most enjoyable. And I have no reason to doubt their sincerity.

The verdict is, therefore, that when visiting this coastal jewel in Kaliningrad region’s amber crown (remember the name, Yantarny) make sure your experience is complete: Discover the Amber Legend!

Amber Legend Yantarny

Essential details

Amber Legend
66A Sovetskaya Ulitsa
Yantarny
Kaliningrad Olblast
Russia

Tel: +7 (401) 233-55-25

Open until 12am

Copyright © 2018-2022 Mick Hart. All rights reserved.

Hartman Hotel Svetlogorsk

The Hartman Hotel Svetlogorsk reviewed by Mick Hart

Willie & Greta Hartmann may still be drinking tea on the hotel terrace …

Published: 27 June 2021 ~ The Hartman Hotel Svetlogorsk reviewed by Mick Hart

I often wondered what was going on behind the plastic sheets and scaffolding, which, it seemed to me, had been there for years, and then, in the winter of 2020, the sheeting was removed and there stood this immaculately renovated building bearing the name Hartman Hotel.

As a portion of the hotel’s name was synonymous with mine, ‘Hart’, the prospect of not having my photo taken standing next to it was inconceivable. My wife would later use this photograph to create a Facebook post, the implication being that this latest addition to the Svetlogorsk hotel portfolio was under my ownership. How does the expression go? You wish!!

The Hartman Hotel, Svetlogorsk ~ a brief history
The Hartman Hotel, Svetlogorsk, is the modern successor to the Hartmann Hotel, Rauschen, which itself succeeded the Waldesrand (Forest Edge). The Waldesrand began life in 1910 at a time when the small Prussian town of Rauschen, nestled on the  Baltic Coast, was renowned as a spar resort and revered for the health-restoring properties of its fresh sea and pine-tree woodland air.

The name Hartmann was given to the hotel after its new owner, Willie Hartmann, acquired it in the 1920s. When it re-opened in 1925, it incorporated a restaurant, had undergone various interior improvements and had been remodelled as a year-round venue.

Willie Hartmann and his wife, Greta, took great pride in the running and the reputation of their new venture, and it was not long before Hotel Hartmann became a firm favourite, attracting people from far and wide as well as local dignitaries.

When the Second World War changed the course of history, the Hartmanns were forced to abandon their treasured home and business. Fate was kind to them in that they survived the war, resettled and continued to work in the hotel trade, but in 1945 Rauschen officially died and with it the Hartmann Hotel.

Destiny, however, has a strange way of intervening, sometimes in ways that are least expected. Who would have thought, for example, that 76 years after the war, through all the vicissitudes of change and temporality that it inflicted, not only would a hotel faithfully replicated upon the designs of its predecessor rise phoenix-like from the ashes of time but also would be restored to the standards of its former self and revived to bear the name of its most successful owner? 

The answer, Willie Hartmann: “War is not eternal,” he told his wife, “… a hotel will always be needed … our grandchildren will still drink tea on the terrace of this hotel!”

What he meant by that in relation to the outcome of the war is a moot point. In early 2020, the descendants of Willie Hartmann discovered by chance whilst surfing on the net that their grandfather’s hotel had been restored, resurrected and eponymously named.

They wrote a heartfelt letter of thanks to the new owners, acknowledging their sensitivity to and appreciation of the hotel’s place in the history of the region, recognising that the new owners could quite easily have taken much of the hard work out of their new project by limiting the conversion to a simple contemporary makeover.

The extent to which the hotel’s exterior resembles that of its predecessor is clearly demonstrated by comparing our photographs, taken in 2021, with those taken in the 1920s, which appear in a booklet thoughtfully commissioned by the hotel’s new owners and devoted to the hotel’s history for the edification of guests and visitors.

The Hartman Hotel Svetlogorsk

My first encounter with the new Hartman (we shall, out of respect, continue to spell it the old German way, Hartmann), that is when the building resembled what it used to be and not a building site, occurred in winter 2020.

With its little red-lamp-shaded lights casting a warm glow through its restaurant windows, I was all for going in, but as we were short on time, and with my wife knowing from years of experience that once in a cosy licensed premises it would be difficult to get me out, we would have to wait until the early summer of 2021 before this avenue of pleasure could be properly explored.

The day that we had chosen to visit Svetlogorsk in mid-June was a hot one, and, unbeknown to us, it was a public holiday (there are many and they are hard to keep track of here!) Consequently, our train was packed, and when we got out I had never seen so many people in Svetlogorsk. It was, to use the vernacular, ‘rammed’.

We had planned to walk to the promenade and have lunch on one of the hotel or restaurant terraces overlooking the sea, but Svetlogorsk’s tourist invasion required evasive action. Almost at once and together we remembered the Hartmann Hotel and how stylish it had looked. It was old, had been restored and had an air of 1930s’ gentility; in other words, it was our sort of place. We would not be disappointed.

We could quite easily have been disappointed, however, since, whilst there were less people away from the front, the terrace at the Hartmann was not short of patrons. Fortunately for us, we had timed it right. On the way I had paused to take stock of my favourite Rauschen building, recently renovated to a high and attractive standard, and by doing so we arrived at the Hartmann just as a table came vacant.

The Hartmann, which is appealing enough in its own right, has added a touch of swish to pull the punters in. Last winter it had a 1930s’ style motor vehicle parked on the forecourt; now, it has a bright red and sparkling-chrome classic MG convertible.

The Hartman Hotel Svetlogorsk reviewed by Mick Hart
Front entrance to the Hartman Hotel, Svetlogorsk

In the era of Visual Blitz, induced and exploited by Facebook and other social media, who could resist having their photograph taken next to such a swanky automobile parked out front of such a tasteful hotel? Certainly not my wife. Olga, given her Facebook obsession, was predictably one of the least resisting, and several photographs had to be taken before I could get down to the serious business of sampling the beer.

The Hartman Hotel Svetlogorsk

Having struck lucky with our seats, our pride of place position gave us a good view of the hotel’s revived façade.

This was one of those marvellous, old German/Prussian buildings of inverted breakfront design, where flanking end sections project from the middle plane, thus recessing the central component. The orange-red brickwork that forms the window arches, cornerstones and lateral-running decoration are picked out pleasingly against the white painted background, perfectly in keeping with the architectural style of the late 19th early 20th century. The windows, are, of course, double-glazed units, but in order to conform as far as possible with the shape and impression of the more intricate design contemporary to the Hartmann era, they are predominantly curved in form, made up of sections separated by vertical and horizontal struts and with narrow vertical strips in the upper lights intended to resemble the more elaborate wooden frameworks of earlier periods. The rectangular casements in the upper storey are not a deviation. On the contrary, as the photograph of the hotel front taken in the Hartmann era shows, they replicate the original pattern, as does the long, central balcony and decorative half-timbered fretwork.

Hartman Hotel restored
The Hartman Hotel, Svetlogorsk, celebrates its past

The front door with its copper, curved awning and embossed/carved detail is, I imagine, a lot more elaborate than the original Hartmann entrance would have been, but whomsoever chose it deserves top marks for gilding the lily that is the most deserving.

Standing next to this door of doors, at least on the day that we were there, in addition to two potted shrubs, was a fully-fledged doorman in complete vintage doorman regalia, his burgundy sleeveless tunic, conforming tilt hat and twin rows of silver buttons harmonising splendidly with the MG’s polished red livery and dazzling chrome work.

The Hartman Hotel, Svetlogorsk, doorman

Like many things, hotel observation can be thirsty work, and it was hooray when the beer arrived! As a vegetarian, and a simple food one at that, I do not feel that I am really qualified to comment on the quality of our meal, except to say that my salad was good enough. My wife settled for a good old honest portion of fish and chips but discovered that this was no ordinary plateful: traditional cod had been mixed with tasty salmon! For liquid refreshment Olga had a couple of glasses of wine, and I had two German beers. The tab came to about £20, which we thought was reasonable.

During our time at the Hartmann, the hotel staff were attentive and approachable and the service friendly and good. In fact, we were so taken with it all that although we live only a relatively short bus or train ride from the coast, we decided to take the plunge and book in for a night the following week, which would give us a chance to sample the hotel interior (and, naturally, more beers) and to take a few photos for the post I had planned.

Mick Hart & Olga Hart at Hartman Hotel
Mick Hart & Olga Hart at the Hartman Hotel

Our overnight stay at the Hartman Hotel, Svetlogorsk

Check in at the Hartmann Hotel is officially 2pm. We arrived early, but this was no problem as the helpful receptionist stowed our overnight bag behind a closed door in a luggage area opposite the lobby desk.

When we had inquired about the possibility of taking a room last week, we had been told that the hotel was fully booked. This encouraged us to take the one room that was vacant, which was a family room, which we would have taken anyway as the extra space and additional seating that this type of room provides is always welcome. For a family room we had to fork out £80, which is not as budget friendly as some hotels in the region, but we were not unhappy considering the standard and ambience.

Room number 23 opens out into one of the end extensions of the building. The large arched window combinations to the front and one at either side makes this a particularly light, airy and pleasant space. It contains a bed-settee, two open armchairs, coffee table and second, wider screen TV.

The room itself is sensitively decorated. Although a dark-wood Gothic man myself, I had no quarrel with the light and pastel colours in this particular setting. The room’s facilities are modern and equipped to a high standard ~ it even has its own iron and ironing board, which is an absolute necessity for keeping one’s cravat in tip-top shape!

To enable en suite conditions, the combined shower room and W.C. has to occupy quite a narrow space, but this has been achieved with zero inconvenience. Necessity, as they say, is the mother of invention, and I was, and still am, in awe, as to how they managed to design this room to maximise space and sacrifice nothing.

The room’s door-locking system is one that Willie Hartmann and his wife, not to mention his 1920s’ guests, would find novel and entertaining. It is one of those electronic touch-card jobs, the card also doubling as an electricity activation key once inside the room. Me to the porter, trying not to look as if I was a backdated key user: “How do you work this?”  And then when he’d shown me: “Ah, I wondered if you knew!”

These little plastic cards are all well and good, but since they negate the need to physically shut the door, turn the handle and use a key, early rising guests tend to let the door go slam as they toddle off to breakfast, which is a bit disconcerting if you are still in bed biding your time with a hangover. Jim Reeves: ‘I hear the sound of not-so-distant drums!’ Not a criticism, but perhaps some calibrated door-closers?

The Hartmann Hotel’s dining room, located on the ground floor opposite reception, also doubles as a restaurant that admits non-residents. We were out on the town in the evening, so we did not become acquainted with it until breakfast the following morning, whereupon it received immediately the Egon Harty seal of approval.

Breakfast was not wanting in any respect. The choice of food on offer, which is included in the tariff, is wide and varied, and you help yourself to what you want and as much as you want (always a dangerous option when my brother is around; I’ve lost count of the number of restaurants and hotels that almost went out of business when he discovered the invitation ‘eat as much as you like’).

Another bonus was that since it was a warm, sunny morning, we were able to take our breakfast and dine a la carte on the hotel terrace.

The Hartmann Hotel’s website states that Willie Hartmann and his staff laid great store on providing not just excellent service but service with a smile. When you are working with the public (and remember, we know, because we once ran an antiques emporium), remaining cool, calm, collected ~ and, in the hospitality trade, most essentially cordial ~ takes a certain kind of person and a certain kind of skill. I must confess that I never did quite get the hang of this and ran our antiques emporium as if I was Basil Fawlty!

Fortunately, or by careful choice, today’s Hartmann management can boast that its team possesses all the qualities that Willie Hartmann would have expected from his team. Without exception, everyone with whom we came into contact was cheerful, good humoured and helpful. The Hartmann service could not be better!

When it wasn’t the Hartmann or Hartman

It had taken me a while to remember what the Hartmann had been when I first came to Svetlogorsk twenty-one years ago.  And then, suddenly, it flashed into my mind, or rather a giant bear skin did!  

As I recall, in the left front-extension of the building, there had been a small, two-roomed bar, access to which was only available by crossing a rubble-filled patch of waste ground, the present location of the Hartmann terrace, and then by going through a side door located where the side door is today.

This bar was as basic as basic; it sold tea, vodka and very little else and had a big, flat, sad-looking bear nailed to the wall. As far as I can remember, the rest of the building was in a fallen-on-hard-times state, possibly no longer used and desperately in need of the kind of tender loving care which, thankfully, come the second decade of the 21st century it eventually would be blessed with.

I would not imagine that any reference to Hartmann existed then, but today the name is proudly sign written above the front entrance and on the gable end of the building; the letter ‘H’ appears on all the Art Noveau stylised lamps; and there is an even an ‘H’ incorporated within the embossed panel on the front door.

Inside, the Hartmanns are acknowledged again, with pictorial representations of their faces heading up an acrylic wall board on which an illustrated map featuring the Hartmann hotel in relation to surrounding tourist sights, the coastline and the sea creates an attractive display.

And, in the small seating area that extends from the reception, stands a glass-topped coffee table containing assorted memorabilia from the time when Willie Hartmann and his wife, Greta, ran the hotel. These include monogrammed silver cutlery, an original monogrammed cup and saucer and other period items all resting on a lace tablecloth contemporaneous to the Hartmann’s tenure.

Relics from the Hartmann Hotel, Rauschen
Items from Hartmann’s original hotel include a restaurant menu

How impressed was I with the Hartmann Hotel?

See for yourself: I bought the place …

Model of the Hartman Hotel

Essential details:

Hartmann Hotel, Svetlogorsk
Oktyabr’skaya Ulitsa, 1
Svetlogorsk
Kaliningrad Oblast, 238563

Tel: 8 (4012) 270-204 ~ Hotel Information
Tel: 8 (4012) 270-206 ~ Restaurant table reservations

Email: info@hartmanhotel.ru

Airport transfers
You can book a transfer from Khrabrov airport, and back if required, by telephoning the main reception desk: 8 (4012) 270-204
Regular transfer (minivan Hyundai H-1) – 2,000 rubles (approx. £19.90): one way
VIP transfer (Lexus LX570) – 3,500 rubles (approx. £34.84): one way

HARTMAN HOTEL WEBSITE: https://hartmanhotel.ru/

Our first visit to Svetlogorsk Winter 2000

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