Desperate Expectations – The Shuttered Railway Station At Tamasda (Lost Lands #163)

This evening I heard destiny calling. While sitting in my favorite armchair at home, I heard the shrill whistle of a train sounding just after midnight. This was a reminder that trains still travel through northeast Ohio, but hardly any of them carry passengers. Riding the rails is an almost non-existent pastime for Americans except for limited routes on Amtrak. One of these arrives at the station in the next town over from where I live in the wee hours of the morning. This is not a feasible option for those who prefer not to start a journey at two in the morning. For those of us who love train travel, thank goodness that Europe still offers abundant opportunities.

Europe is a railway lover’s dream. Lines crisscross it in every direction and are available at almost any hour of the day. That is as true in Eastern Europe as it is anywhere else on the continent. The lost lands beyond Hungary’s borders have thousands of kilometers of railway. This is one of the greatest legacies of the Austro-Hungarian Empire. Successor states to the empire such as Romania inherited many of these lines which transport people and cargo throughout the country.

Life Support – Romance & Reality

When rail travel took hold in the last half of the 19th century, the Hungarian administered half (Transleithania) of the empire went on a railway building binge. This resulted in the most extensive railway network in Eastern Europe. Since the late 19th century, travelers like me have enjoyed the benefits of this network, though it is not nearly as extensive as it used to be. I am aware of the limitations of railway travel in the region. While riding the rails, I have seen shuttered stations in rural areas. This lamentable situation is due to the decline in rural population and lack of funding for railway networks. Station closures are akin to the losses of rural post offices in small town America. When that happens, the town loses an invaluable form of life support. A vital link to the larger world no longer exists. Once gone, these post offices rarely come back. When I lived on the Great Plains, I was told that once a small town loses the post office, that is it. “It” in this context means terminal decline. In other words, “it” is all downhill from there.

The closure of a railway station is symptomatic of a village’s decline. A painful reminder that the village is not what it used to be and could be on its way to obsolescence. There is a shuttered station in Tamasda, reflecting the fact that the village has lost a resource of inestimable value. The symbolism of that station reminds residents of the days when they could purchase a ticket to their destination of choice there. Roads rather than rails are now the preferred avenue of transport for those who live in Tamasda. Riding in a bus or car is convenient, but it lacks the romance of a railway station. The shuttered station has a look of desperate expectation. That is a feeling I know all too well. It has informed all my travels in Eastern Europe. I do not think I will ever escape that feeling because I continue to seek it out. That is why I am putting Tamasda on my itinerary for the lost lands.?

Grand Reopening – The Lord of the Railway Manor

While researching Tamasda. I came across Magyarorszag vasutallomasai es vasuti megallohelyei (Train stations and lines in Hungary - www. https://vasutallomasok.hu/ ), a wonderful website that lists every railway line and photos of the stations along them in Hungary and the lands lost due to the post-World War I Treaty of Trianon. This was where I discovered the photo of Tamasda Railway Station. The sign in front of the station says “Halta Tamasda” meaning it is still used as a stop on the slower trains between Arad and Oradea that stop at all the villages along the way. Those who want to purchase a ticket can do so on the train. As for the station, it is a reminder of a time when Tamasda was important enough to have the full complement of railway services. Back then, Romania’s national railway company was able to afford keeping it opened and staffed. Like many of the closed post offices in lightly populated rural areas of the United States, the Tamasda Railway Station is still standing, but will not be reopened. The building is a monument to the time when otherwise insignificant villages were worthy of a railway station.

A photo of the station that I discovered on the website I found was taken in 2013. The building did not look too bad by the standards of rural stations I have seen in Hungary and Romania. The fact that trains still stop at the station has likely contributed to it looking more presentable. The station gives the impression that it could be opened once again with little effort. The chances of that happening are slim to none. It is not a cost-effective option in Romania where the national railway network is always in need of considerable maintenance and upgrades. While the station might not look its best, I could imagine someone within its walls going about their daily duties. Sometimes in my more expansive moments I dream of being that person. A sort of lord of the railway manor, albeit at a very modest one in a forgotten village.?

Whistlestop – A Different Life

I doubt that I will ever run a railway station. That has not stopped me from dreaming that destiny for myself when I heard a train whistle blow. That whistle is an encouragement to dream. Every one of us nurses a fantasy of a different life than the one we are living. I do not know anything about running a railway station, nor can I speak Romanian or Hungarian. That has never stopped me from fantasizing about stations like the one at Tamasda. In my imagination, they are waiting to be reopened. Someone needs to greet the trains that stop there. The expectation, the arrival, the saying goodbye. Tamasda Railway Station is so alive that I can feel it.?