A Funi Story
I fully expected to see the old funicular railway in Svetlogorsk. Last time I was here, it was dark and they told me it was closed. What they didn’t mention - or maybe it was my poor Russian - is that the last train ran in 1960.
Not until 1973 did Svetlogorsk get a replacement. Perhaps mindful of Russia’s geriatric leaders, the town installed a lift to ease the 40 metre, lung-bursting climb from beach to town.
Here is the miracle of Soviet technology, celebrated in an original 1970s postcard.
How did I come by an original 1970s postcard? Easy, they sell them in the shops. This is Russia after all, and I suppose there was an inexhaustible supply of official postcards produced at the time. The view, though, has changed somewhat. The kiosk and the totem pole sculpture are gone. Yellow Kvass wagons are history too - German tourists just don’t drink that kinda beer. But the lift endures.
The tower doesn’t get any prettier on close inspection. It is made entirely of concrete and corrugated tin. One suspects it was modelled on a border post watchtower. In fact, as an observation tower over the beach and the Baltic, it does provide a stunning view - once you finally get the attention of the lift man. (Who will also sell you Soviet era postcards.)
You can’t help feeling that the lift will be the next casualty of ‘Prussification’. Only a couple of years ago, a suitably Soviet main line station greeted holidaymakers arriving in Svetlogorsk from Kaliningrad.
This picture was from 2005. But today as I type, a new, Repro Prussian station is taking its place.
Svetlogorsk is becoming a Repro Prussian theme park. ‘Svetlo’ probably deserves to become a dictionary word, embracing all the connotations of kitsch and repro. ‘Lovely villa darling, but those fake gothic towers . . rather Svetlo, don’t you think?’
The other funny part about this whole area is that it calls into question the Potsdam Conference of 1945, which decided there was no such place as Prussia. There is nevertheless an identity, even though largely virtual or remembered, which Kaliningrad Oblast never achieved.
Thought for next post . . .






[...] times, in fact until it fell apart in the ’60s, Svetlogorsk had a pretty - and discreet - funicular railway to take weary beachcombers back up the dune. The lift replaced it in the ’70s. But [...]