Архив метки: On the Polessk Canal Road to Matrosovo Kaliningrad

Fishdorf Hotel

A day out at Fishdorf Country Guest Complex

Fishdorf Country Guest Complex, Kaliningrad region, Russia

Published: 22 July 2022 ~ A day out at Fishdorf Country Guest Complex

In my last post about Matrosovo, we entered the village together, passing a pretty old German house and some rather malodorous cows (no problem, if like me, you are an afficionado of country smells!) and glancing warily at the high tin fence on the other side of the road, which has something inflatable thrust high above it, we rolled on, on our car wheels, until shortly confronting a T-junction. Here, I took you right; now I take you left.

Before doing so your attention will have been drawn to an interesting feature on your right. There, standing in what I can only imagine in Soviet times was a mown and tended green, but now badly in need of a lawnsman, is a typical example of socialist realism from the collective-identity genre: a statue, striking in colour and pose, of a fisherman and his son.

Small riverside communities such as Matrosovo would once have been greatly reliant upon the role that fishing played in guaranteeing livelihoods, and statues such as these, as well as performing an ideological function, were a way of saying thank you.

Olga Hart statue Matrosovo

Above: Madam, kindly unhand that fisherman!

Across the way, by the side of the river, sits a typical Soviet children’s playground, with all facilities preserved and functioning ~ a marvellous sight to behold ~ and immediately left a municipal building, once the village shop, then and more recently, but now abandoned, the village’s House of Culture.

The road ahead, left at the T-junction, has nothing in common with the road leading into it, except, of course, it is also a road. The dirt-covered rubble track suddenly changes to new block paving, on either side of which stands modern buildings and proper fencing. I mean by proper fencing, not ugly sheets of tin but fences made from real brick piers inlaid with panels of wood, and the buildings that accompany them solid-state buildings of consequence.

A day out at Fishdorf Country Guest Complex

On the right is a restaurant with private carpark, whose grounds lead down to the river’s edge. It has a spacious veranda made of wooden decking and, closer to the waterside, rusticated bench seats with built-in tables for two, purposefully made and conveniently positioned for patrons to sit and gaze idly across the rippling river at the attractive commune of houses nestled on the opposite bank. The perfect place on a hot summer’s day for sitting, staring and eating ice cream.

Next door is an establishment designed for people in mind who do not abide by the maxim that if God had meant for us to swim (or do anything else in or on water), he would have given us gills. Here, all sorts of water-borne craft, including tandem canoes and sapboards, are available for hire, but if it is something bigger that floats your boat, there are always things you can row and even a canopied catamaran that will romp you along the river whilst you sit there for a fee in the smug and requited pose of completely paid-up passenger.

Water crafts for hire in Kaliningrad region

Above: Things to go floating about the river on

The establishment next door to the establishment next door is presently under construction. Perhaps it will be a bingo hall, or am I thinking Hunstanton? But next door to that, looking handsome, refined and sophisticated (Shame on you, you thought I was going to say me!), stands the eminently functional Fishdorf restaurant, which is almost immediately across the road from its namesake the Fishdorf Hotel.

The Fishdorf restaurant

Above: The self-explanatory Fishdorf Restaurant

Both buildings, the restaurant and hotel, are built in a charming, modern, East Prussian style. The Fishdorf restaurant boasts extended eaves, half-timber decoration, ‘distressed’ brickwork and lots of natural wood embellishments. The main building, the Fishdorf Hotel, is distinguished by the presence of a giant illustration on its gable end of a fisherman of old, suitably endowed with clay pipe, neckerchief, a pair of rolled-up wellies and carrying a whopping great fish. The ‘aged’ brickwork around the doors and windows, which cut a dashing contrast with the white and textured walls, is another memorable Fishdorf signature.

At the side of the hotel and prior to its reception area there is a large rolling gate, which would appear to conceal the hotel carpark, but in fact conceals a whole lot more. A suitable cliché at this point would be that it opens onto another world, the pertinence of which can be better understood by recourse to my previous post regarding Matrosovo village. For this particular roller gate does not just give access to the hotel carpark but access to the surprisingly ‘off the beaten track’, and all the more astounding for it, Fishdorf recreation park or, to revert to its official name, as noted on its website, the Country Guest Complex Fishdorf.

A family-oriented retreat

In trying to describe what Fishdorf is, apart from and in addition to a hotel and a restaurant, I run shy from using a word like ‘complex’, although Fishdorf use it themselves. I hesitate to use this word for fear of evoking impressions of spirographical mental states and complicated things devised from cold mathematical precision, since Fishdorf’s realm of influence is rooted in the natural world and the only precision one can accuse it of is the skilful manner in which its grounds and facilities have been mapped out to produce a certain appealing something that respectively lies between the ordered elegance and intrinsic sublimity of the formal and natural garden.

So, how does one sum up Fishdorf? What shall we say it is, exactly? We could try: A family-oriented retreat, secluded and steeped in nature, combining the best in formal and natural landscaping, where both guests and day visitors alike can enjoy a variety of outside leisure pursuits and other diverse recreations. Yes, I think I can live with that.

Fishdorf park

The extensive area that the park takes in is designed around two large and interconnecting ponds (don’t think village ponds, think lakes!), stocked with extroverts ~ both fish and frogs ~ which are either leaping out of the water and going splosh at regular intervals or putting in guest appearances and going croak whilst sitting on leaves. (I’ll leave you to work out which one is doing which.). At the centre of these two ponds, dividing it geometrically, is a pretty, single-span bridge of the arched, romantic kind, and around the ponds on every side the lawns trimmed to perfection are sprinkled with plants, shrubs, bushes and trees, intersected by meandering pathways and punctuated with globe lights.

Already you should detect that Fishdorf is an environment in which Mother Nature is everywhere and everywhere in excelsior. She graciuosly presides over a spacious open-air schema where wood is what it always is, versatile and wonderful, and used in so many different and in so many more inventive ways.

Above: Mick Hart on a garden swing ~ wood you believe it!

A day out at Fishdorf for lovers of wood

Garden swings with bench seats hewn out of solid tree trunks, their frameworks assembled from the curving boughs of trees, are studied by wooden toadstools peeping out of the long, trained grass, each stem of each toadstool carved with faces from folklore. Dotted here and there and sometimes assembled in communes, the alternative answer to a hotel room takes the form of standalone chalets, attractive little retreats successfully given the log-cabin treatment. To ensure exclusivity is complemented by privacy, rustic fencing, skilfully put together by weaving tall, thin, branches into a vertical plane and by using slightly thicker branches for horizontal stabilisation, screens and beautifies in one fell swoop.

Wooden accommodation chalets at the Matrosovo recreation park

Above: Cabins well-appointed

Picturesque log cabin at the Fishdorf country park, Kaliningrad region

Above: Picturesque log-cabin accommodation

The visual affect is so thoroughly pleasing that you make a mental note that when you get home you’ll build one yourself and you’ll also include the wood-panelled gates, as you rather like the serpentine arch and find the naïve motifs with which the gates are illustrated seductively quaint, cute and engaging, perceiving something in them, indeed in the whole composition, that you faintly recognise long ago as lying between the covers of the books that you read in your childhood.

A day out at Fishdorf Country Guest Complex

By the side of a nearby pond, much smaller and more secluded than the two that share the bridge, an open-ended gazebo beckons. Unsullied by professionalism, or clever and artful in this suggestion, the wood used in its making looks as though it could have been cut and taken from the forest nearby and then brought together to form the function that it now fulfils using nothing but an artisan’s eye and the skills of one of those men of whom we have heard it said, much too often for comfort, ‘he can turn his hand to anything’ ~ don’t you just love such people!

In the same vicinity as the log gazebo an elongated wooden barrel, big enough to get inside, makes me think of Beer. But this is no beer barrel, mores the pity. It is in fact a barrel-shaped sauna in which, if you like it steamy, you can tarry at your leisure, perhaps between gruelling sessions swinging around on the tennis courts or charging about on the football pitches, which are visible from this point on the other side of the lawn.

If I was sauna inclined, which I am not, I would have jumped into the barrel and sweated it out, but I didn’t. However, had I for once been less than predictable, at least in matters like these, the incident may have passed without comment, considering that minutes before, estranging herself from maturity, Olga had shown little restraint in hopping inside a funnel-shaped object, made, of course, from wood, and holding a twig-ended broomstick retained by this odd receptacle, declared herself to be that infamous mythical figure from the annals of Russian folklore, Baba Yaga, the witch. Had my name been Bernard Manning, the impetuosity of this performance would not have left me stuck for words, but I decided not to become him today presuming for my impertinence that the broomstick could take off in a hurry and could get stuck right up … in the clouds.

Olga Hart thinks she is Russia's Baba Yaga

Above: Olga Hart on her broomstick

One thing I can say is that I never knew until I came to Fishdorf how hungry wood could make you, and it had the same effect upon me. Whilst I presume that Fishdorf’s salient restaurant is the one across the road from the Fishdorf Hotel, on the other side of the roller gate, within the grounds of the park itself there is a second restaurant, plus a cafeteria à la carte, the latter cunningly equipped with a canopy-covered dining area designed to outwit the weather should it begin to act unseasonable.

It was here, overlooking a neat and expansive lawn, that I had my mid-morning snack and (sssh, please don’t tell anybody) an alcohol-free beer ~ well it was an extremely warm day and even though the sun was considerably over the yard arm … but why should I explain to you?!

Mick Hart and Olga Hart in Matrosovo park

Above: Non-alcohol beer on a hot day

For those who like it hot, and may or may not have issues drinking beer that is alcohol free, Fishdorf has extensive sauna and various hot bath facilities. For those who like to chill out, it has a combined poolside and children’s recreation area, where adults can recline on the recliners meant for reclining on and children can amuse themselves by flying up and down on any one of a number of colourful bouncy castles or for higher and more exciting plunges take a turn or two on  the stupendous Aqua Park waterchute. (You may recall, gentle reader, my mentioning of something large and inflatable towering over a tall metal fence in my previous post on Matrosovo village; was this the item in question? Indeed, the very same.)

Bouncy Castles in Kaliningrad region park
It's a big one! Fishdorf country recreation park

Above: Very large, indeed

As a river runs through it, the village of Matrosovo that is, there are any number of ways that a person can take to the water but, if like me, the only volume of water that you can cope with comfortably is enough to balance your whisky glass, you could do considerably worse than book yourselves a table on Fishdorf’s riverside dining area, which I believe is part of the restaurant ‘Cheshuya’, as described on Fishdorf’s website.

Country Guest Complex Fishdorf

Here, when all around you are clamouring to live the life of a fish, you can annoy your company by saying ‘I don’t do water myself’, and then watch from the comfort of your riverside table them doing something that you don’t do whilst you do something you do: I have it on good authority ~ the best authority, my own ~ that Cheshuya serves a very nice pint. So, let’s have a toast to the Fishdorf restaurant, one to the Country Guest Complex Fishdorf and also, whilst we’re at it, to Matrosovo itself.

Essential details:

Country Guest Complex ‘Fishdorf’
238634, Kaliningrad Region, Polessky District, Matrosovo Village, 21 Levoberezhnaya Street

Email: info@fishdorf.com
Tel: +7 (4012) 52 11 10
Website: https://fishdorf.com/

Room tariffs
(Details can be found on Fishdorf’s website)

Prices per day vary according to the type and location of the accommodation required, which includes traditional hotel rooms, chalets and buildings capable of occupying multiple numbers of guests.

Services
A full and detailed breakdown of costs for all amenities offered at the park both for residential guests and day visitors can be found on the park’s website. These include:  Spa, Bath & Aqua Zone; River Vehicles (Kayak, Canoe, Catamaran, Boat, Sapboard); Adult and Children’s Bikes; Games (Virtual Reality & Air Hockey); Children’s Vehicular Amusements (eg, Electric Car, Electric Scooter); Fishing Permits and Bait; Gazebos (priced according to size and location).

Restaurants
There are two restaurants listed on the website, Restaurant ‘Gans & Beer’ and Cheshuya Restaurant. The first has a banquet hall that will accommodate 150 people; the second can hold 45 people and is well-appointed with a veranda overlooking the river.

The menu is available through the park’s website.

Entertainment
The many and varied entertainments offered at the park are covered on its website, including the Aqua Park, The Club (which has billiard and pool tables); the Bath Barrel Sauna, etc. For comprehensive details, see the park’s website.

Country Guest Complex ‘Fishdorf’ Website: https://fishdorf.com/

Places to visit in the Kaliningrad region

Matrosovo Village
Matrososvo village, charming and sequestered, nestles beside Matrosovka River. It is also the astutely chosen location of the Country Guest Complex ‘Fishdorf’.

Angel Park Hotel
The Angel Park Hotel, Kaliningrad region, is a gift from the people of its past, an unaffected rural retreat that breathes new life into a timeless realm where history and the natural landscape flow together like the rivers that run through it.

Zalivino Lightouse
The restored lighthouse on the shore of the Curonian Lagoon is a singular maritime experience. Imagine what life was like as a lighthouse keeper in the early twentieth century and enjoy the coastal views from the lighthouse lamp room and platform.

Fort Dönhoff
Fort XI (Fort Dönhoff) is one of Königsberg’s 19th century fortresses, part of the former city’s monolithic defence system. Vast, intricate and painstakingly restored, it is a must for anyone fascinated by military history generally and by Königsberg specifically.

Polessk Brewery
Lovingly restored, Polessk Brewery is one of the region’s historic treasures. Even if you are not a beer fanatic (is their such a specimen?) you cannot help but be enthralled by the neoGothic architecture and the German and Soviet timeline of this splendid and remarkable edifice.

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

Matrosovo Kaliningrad

On the Polessk Canal Road to Matrosovo Kaliningrad

or how we got there and how interesting it was when we did

Published: 11 July 2022 ~ On the Polessk Canal Road to Matrosovo Kaliningrad

Out on the single-track road that runs along the canal from Polessk to wherever it was we were heading, there’s a sense of going somewhere, which is good enough in itself. The canal, which links the rivers Deyma and Nemunas, provides a mostly parallel route to that place where, when we eventually got out of the car, I would call our destination.

The narrow road, no doubt constructed on the canal’s one-time tow path, is a cambersome experience, dipping, rolling and bowling along. The route takes in vast tracts of overgrown land which, at this time of year, is fifty shades of green, or even more, across and through which the Polessk Canal holds a straight and steady course.

Dotted along both sides of this sweeping tract of water, stand, in varying degrees of stability, old German cottages, typically composed as single-storey abodes but with attic space more than sufficient for filling up with all sorts of things.

On the Polessk Canal road to Matrosovo Kaliningrad

The canal road is like all roads of this nature, unambiguously elevated, and often the humble cottages built on the opposite bank to the water’s edge lie at a lower level. Those homes that abut the road are so close to it that an occupant stepping outside could in any unguarded moment find themselves swept away or knocked for six by a passing vehicle. The cottages in the hollow, in the cut below the bank, are exempt from this particular problem but arguably not from others; they can be so tightly sandwiched against the edge of the road that their windows are nearly contiguous.

Mick Hart Matrosovo shed
They made stout hinges those Germans did!

At this time of year, the trees, wild bushes and virile foliage are so profusely laden with leaves ~ embracing, entwining and intimately enmeshed ~ that the houses seem to lose their way.  It is not unusual, for example, to see entire portions of house appropriated by nature, swallowed up by all manner of creeping and climbing plants, whilst small trees and saplings jostling for space in front of the windows lead one to conclude that for all its idyllic rusticity subtract the picturesque and what you are probably left with is a multitude of sins, ranging from light-deprived interiors to issues with rising damp.

For the traveller, however, bouncing and bounding along without a care in the world, such phenomena, where they may or conversely may not exist, are of little or trifling consequence. One of the joys of travelling this road by car is that the presence of such houses often makes themselves known to you when you least expect them. The point at which two walls meet (the right angle of a cottage) can lean out from the natural shrubbery where nothing is, or seemed to be, only a moment before, followed quickly by a gable end and then the building in its entirety; only sometimes it does not, as you see as much and no more as the foliage permits.

A good many of these cottages are in states of disrepair that border on amazing qualities of things that refuse to fall down, their ability to remain standing testifying to construction techniques of old, where the need for durability and ‘everlasting’ strength are indubitably all that they should be.

The unifying deterioration is one, however, that could be remedied without considerable outlay, this is to say where painted walls have turned blotchy and brown with age and in some places on higher and lower planes where the substrate screed has fallen away, leaving irregular patches of brickwork exposed to view and the elements. In some instances, however, the pan-tiled or asbestos roofs have given up the ghost: rafters have resigned and the lot has sunk and plummeted inwards. This is not to say the ‘whole lot’. Indeed, the greater proportion of any one structure may have generally held its own against the concerted depletions inflicted by time, weathering, neglect and despair, thus rendering what remains if not exactly practicable to live in notwithstanding liveable.

As this condition is one that marks the fate of detached premises, you can imagine how much more acute the situation can be with regard to the semi-detached, where one half is maintained and the other lies forgotten, even to the extent of appearing, or actually being, abandoned. Sometimes it is hard to distinguish which of the two applies.

An old German barn with some signs of ageing and later additions

We travelled the canal route twice over one weekend, enabling me to get a closer look at two buildings in particular. One, a property with torn sheets of polythene flapping from collapsed windows, surrounded by blistered brick and flaking woodwork and bound by a garden resembling that of my friend’s garden back in Bedfordshire, only revealed its occupied status when on the second day of passing a venerable old rustic gentleman, swarthy faced and of matted grey beard, pausing conveniently at his rusting gate to gawp at the awesome sight of a motorised carriage with us tearing past in it, inclined us to believe that here indeed was the owner.

The second of the two buildings that prompted further attention was one which did so on account of its size and shape and also in possessing something more substantial and aesthetic in its character. I stop short of pronouncing it grand, speculating that it may once have been a school or chapel, its cruciform outline and the series of arches framing its entrance suggestive of civic importance and lending to it an air that asserted a presence more commanding than most.

One suspects that the majority of the buildings that I have described are hand-me-downs from the Soviet era, gifted on by folk who had been given them themselves by power of the authorities after Königsberg and its outlying region fell in World War II; in other words, they are family homes passing along and down the generational chain.

Houses that overlook the canal do so from large picture windows and some from the envy-making platforms of dark-wood fretwork balconies

Of course, the picture that I have painted is only one half of the canvas. Although they would be considerably less shiny and new, considerably less conspicuous should they exist in a hypothetical exclusivity created by the absence of their impoverished German neighbours, accomplished restoration projects and executive-status mouth-watering newbuilds share the same verdant space along the quiet, sleepy, secluded banks of this reclusive strip of water.

Kempt and curated, the freshly seeded lawns, attractive outbuildings and accessory dwellings blend neatly with the master home, offering tantalising glimpses into near perfection. Houses that overlook the canal do so from large picture windows and some from the envy-making platforms of dark-wood fretwork balconies, and always these and lesser properties whose gardens touch the canal have a jetty of some description and a motorboat moored nearby.

Such houses stand out like a sign saying, “See what you can do, if you’ve got the lolly!” Let’s take a break and put that idea to music: Dr Feelgood As long as the price is right. “If you’ve got no bread, you’re as good as dead”; “If you’ve got no loot, you just can’t shoot”; “If you’ve got no cash, then you’ve gotta dash”.

Off to Matrosovo in the Kaliningrad region

At the risk or repeating myself, I will say again that out on the single road that runs along the canal from Polessk to wherever it was we were heading, there’s a sense of going somewhere, which is good enough in itself. I suppose it is a fait accompli that sooner or later the canal veers off and that when it does it takes with it the narrow track that was originally its in the first place.

The road continues, but now is wide enough to accommodate oncoming traffic with ease. The wheels dip and the suspension rocks across the slightly less than level tarmacadam but soon rumble and jog respectively as the relative smoothness is abruptly replaced by sequential concrete sections. This type of construction always puts me in mind of a certain approach road that may still exist, and which was certainly there in the 1970s, on the way to Norwich, although in this geographical neck of the woods a road consisting of concrete slabs would, I guess, have been laid back in Soviet times.

I cannot remember exactly whether the road changed before or after we crossed a broad sweep of rapid rippling water, which I presume is the Deyma River, but there is no forgetting the bridge. It is a heavy metal-plate affair, with the ability to pivot on a mechanical mechanism. Lower than the road it services, when vehicles pass over the access slope it throws them slightly off-balance producing at the same time a mildly alarming clunkety-clank, likewise at the opposite end when leaving. The bridge appears to be solid enough but could do with a coat of paint.

On and on and on and on and then hoving into view is the signpost for Matrosovo. So, could this be where we were going and had we now arrived?

Matrosovo Kaliningrad region

On entering the village Matrosovo to the right you will see a quite substantial, attractive German house. It has been professionally reroofed using either terracotta tiles or their modern metal equivalent. The gable end, the end that faces the road, has a chevroned woodwork finish, and the house stands in its own grounds amidst a very nice cottage garden. Just beyond it, by the side of a silted brook, is something rather more down to earth, meaning decidedly earthy. A patch of ground, grazed relentlessly into dust is home to some rather whiffy cows and chickens as well as the paraphernalia required for sustaining them, such as wooden shacks full of hay and, scattered about in no particular order, various metal feeding troughs, buckets and the like. Suddenly I was young again, back on the farm in my youth!

On the whole, Matrosovo village has stood the test of time.

And now for something completely different; for across the road from this veritable Ponderosa looms an abnormally high metal fence and poking out above it is a rare, colourful if not grotesque very large plastic what-have-you ~ an inflatable how’s your father? It most resembles a bouncy castle but if that is what it is, it must have been made for giants. Moving on, as we were, we can discuss this curious contraption and other astonishing Matrosovo things at a later and more convenient date in my follow-up post on Matrosovo Park.

The road, that by now has turned into a dusty hardcore track, wends along a little until it meets a junction. Here you have a choice, which is either left or right, as before you lies the wide, the deep and the rather fast-flowing Matrosovka River, the mouth of the Neman River, destination Curonian Lagoon.

There are such a lot of waterways, rivers and the like, criss-crossing in these here parts that it is hard to determine who is which, but if at this point in my post you were to drive straight on the name of the river would matter less than the sound of going plop and feeling incredibly wet.

Avoiding this fate by turning right we followed a twisting hardcore lane with buildings on either side; this comprising the greater part of Matrosovo village, a village that instinctively feels like one with a genuine East Prussian heritage. (You have no idea what one of them feels like? Then you have to visit Matrosovo.)

Into Matrosovo

On the whole, Matrosovo village has stood the test of time. Yes, there are modern renovations of older buildings that could have been more sensitively restored in order to vouchsafe original features as well as newbuilds recently landed from the planet Super Affluent, but by and large along this meandering lane the houses of Matrosovo have managed to escape the worst excesses of insensitivity during periods when conservation was as alien a concept as ridiculous things like women prime ministers.

Matrosovo Kaliningrad region

The German cottages of Matrosovo are predominantly wooden-clad structures. Detached or semi-detached each possesses bilateral features and a sense of uniformity in the relative space that they occupy, both vertically and horizontally, with one or two exceptions. Some are super-simple, standard pitched-roof jobs, their longest dimension aligned with the road but can be gable-end facing, a not unusual arrangement, in fact typical in this region but inversely so in England. Others, a little more posh, have a large, pitched dormer-style window intersecting geometrically, which, in the semi-detached variation, is the dividing point between the two properties.

Not all of the houses in Matrosovo conform to the wooden-clad principle, but plank cladding is certainly prevalent. Where it is employed, it is usual for the cladding to stand proud along the upper portion of these buildings, sometimes with no embellishment, in other words it starts as a plank and ends that way, but others are pointed, like the upturned staves of a traditional picket fence, or even nicely rounded so as to form a decorative apron.

Wooden clad house Kaliningrad region
Wooden cladding with ‘pie crust’ finish

Hardly any of these domiciles, whether partly hidden behind the trees or exposed to view, have escaped the make-do-and-mend and aesthetic-free philosophy of Soviet DIYers, who during the era of their tenure thought nothing of tacking a porch on here or amending a section of pan-tiled roofing there, usually from the loan of a ubiquitous piece of asbestos or by recourse to any number of unremarkable materials but admittedly novel techniques that may have conceivably rectified but certainly not improved, and yet when they are beheld today cannot fail to gratify with their touches of eccentricity and unique dedications to social history.

A number of these establishments are still endowed, if only just, with their original German barns. Here, in the former province of East Prussia, German barns can be as big as their imperialist ego or as small as there … (please send your answer to Mick Hart on a postcard). In Matrosovo, they are generally, and may I say delightfully, less alpha in their bearing, but notwithsatnding no less endowed with the universal characteristics of the whoppers you find elsewhere.

Former East Prussian German barns are built on the following principles: The lower parameters are composed of red brick, which make them solid, sturdy and handsome to say the least, but the upper sections are made of wood, simple wooden planks nailed to a framework of beams and supports. The roofs, which are pan-tiled, are heavy and seem to press down forcibly, much to the detriment of the load-bearing structure beneath, causing the wooden mass to assume a splayed or bowed effect. But without wishing to delve too deeply into principals of design that are better left to the experts or for you to research at your leisure (I shall be asking questions, later, children) a revisionary approach implies that perhaps these barns are made this way to spread the load as needed.

German barn of typical construction Kaliningrad region
A buckling barn of typical German construction

If so, time, neglect and Soviet hap-hazardry has tested them to the limit. Many have succumbed to various states of collapse ~ roofs stoved inward, walls buckling, bits missing, doors as unhinged as Justin Turdeau, and even when this is not the rule but rather the exception, proletariat bodgery is written on almost every surviving quarter like a vandalistic antecedent to the gunge that liberals delude themselves is ‘street art’ but those who live in the real world routinely condemn as graffiti.

Notwithstanding, the buckling barns of imperialist Germany are inspirational remnant art-forms from the hands of Father Time meant to give living artists something bold to emulate. They are a concomitant of hieroglyphics each one firmly rooted in its era, each with a story to tell for those who know how to read them. And what they may have ceased to be from a utilitarian standpoint they more than make up for in visual delight and empathising Romanticism.

Matrosovo Kaliningrad region on the Deyma River

Along the side of the village riverbank, at the back of the houses and land adjoining, old boats can be found, some which with their happy occupants would have come whistling in to dock many years before but, for reasons we may never know, have whistled nowhere since. Lamentably becalmed, strangled by waterside plants and the encroaching branches of trees, their fading blue and yellow paintworks (they are invariably blue or yellow) and weather-cracked mouldering windscreens project on the first encounter a sad and silly impression. Wanted once, will they ever be wanted again? There they sit, like single mums abandonned (even bereft of benefits), dull and dowdy, water-logged, without engine and nowhere to go. No matter where in the world you trek, be it by river or sea, rest assured you will always find that old boat sitting somewhere: becalmed, sad, no longer needed, possibly taking in water, largely forlorn, resolutely forgotten.

East Prussian house with nice garden
Up the garden path

Gardens, unlike boats, are not so easily forgotten but, like most things known to man, you can either devote your life to them or live your life and let them live theirs. In Matrosovo both philosophies and the nuances that derive from them are open to conjecture. It all depends on how you like your gardens: traditional, cottage, formal, pre-planned, secret, maintained, natural, exotic or simply not at all. They are all here in Matrosovo.

Country Cottage neat garden Matrosovo Russia
Lovely wooden shutters and a nice garden

Reconditioned and new houses tend to go for reconditioned and new gardens. Many contain supplementary/ancillary buildings and seem to go on forever. They remind me of our cat: they have been tended, pampered, revitalised, put down to new grass (even our cat has grass) and may contain a pond or two or a stream that runs gently through them embroidered by trees large and mature that attest to a natural border. (My word, that’s some cat you’ve got there, Mick!)

Yet Spick and Span is but one short band on the overall garden spectrum. Others have become repositories of overspill modernity, among which, and noticeably, is the human compulsion not to recycle when one can simply discard. Old tin buckets, fridges, enamel bowls and any number of garden implements and ornamental wares that have ceased for some reason or other to provide either the useful or novelty value for which they were intended, peep sleepily out from behind clumps of yellow dandelions, play hide and seek in the long wild grass or prop themselves up wearily against the separating sides and quiescent, weed-fringed borders of geriatric sheds that have seen it all and more and may just go on seeing it when we have long since gone.

Heaven forbid, however, that you would find anything of this nature in the exalted gardens of immaculate conception. But don’t worry; it does forbid. Not that the shuffling, folding, falling sheds complain. Like old folks that have been leaving home since the day that they were born but never got further than the garden gate and will never go anywhere now, except in one direction, they belong to a realm of static contentment upon which no amount of the present has neither the will nor authority to intrude.

On a hotter than usual summer’s day this then is the village of Matrosovo, offering all that the senses could wish for ~ a time-honoured rustic seclusiveness on the balmy banks of the Matrosovka River.

Next up: Would you Adam and Eve It ~ the contrast on the other side of the village! (Wait a mo, I’ve yet to write it …)

Places to visit Around the Kaliningrad region
Angel Park Hotel
Fort Donhoff (Fort XI)
Architectural surpises along the Zelenogradsk coast
Amber Legend Yantarny
Zalivino Lighthouse

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