More than 10 faces of Vilnius on Bus 10

Hello, public transport and city history fans! We’re inviting you to take a bus route that is not the oldest, the longest, or even the best. However, it meanders through very different parts of the city and will reveal a truly diverse picture of the capital. So open your ears and eyes, and let’s get going!

We start our journey at the stops’ Kaimelio žiedas’ and ‘Kaimelio’. These two mysterious names remind us that in the distance to the right, where the current Juzeliūnas and Kaimelio Streets now lie, there is a fragment of the old Fabijoniškės settlement. In fact, the vast majority of the residential suburbs built during the Soviet era have taken on the names of the villages that once existed in those places. However, often the old huts were completely wiped off the face of the earth and quietly gave way to new developments. In Fabijoniškės, the architects purposely intended to leave part of the old village behind in order to give it a distinctive character. Before the major construction, the village had a school, a wooden cross, granaries, gardens, and hardly any farmland. The location was strategically advantageous, as it was right on the historic road to Ukmergė and Riga.

Fabijoniškės itself is the penultimate district among those designed and built during the Soviet era; only Pilaitė was constructed later. Fabijoniškės marked the expansion of the city into completely new territories; it was like a closed ring in the northwest of Vilnius. Construction began in 1985, and the first settlers moved in two years later. By the way, it was the relative newness of the area that led the creators of the ‘Chernobyl’ series to choose this particular location for filming. After all, at the time of the nuclear disaster, Pripyat was also a newly constructed town. 

The district is distinguished by its original balcony panels, and cosy 3-storey house sections, and the skyline is sculpted by imposing 16-storey monoliths. Some of the district’s interior spaces are pedestrian-only, creating a cosy atmosphere. After the bus ride, we encourage you to take a stroll and explore the area on foot.

If you had been travelling by bus in 1975, this would have been your last stop – and it would have been called ‘Internatas’, referring to the boarding school for the blind and visually impaired that opened in that year – it’s on your right. The Route 33 bus used to come here because of it, and the location of the bus stop slightly off the main road betrays the fact that there used to be a mini-roundabout here for buses and drivers to take a little breather when they finished their journey. 

If you were a passenger in those days, you would have seen that the complex for the blind was built in an open field that was still almost completely empty. We would like to remind you that at that time, the districts of Fabijoniškės, Pašilaičiai, or Baltupiai did not yet exist. The last part of the journey was more like a rural landscape with cultivated fields, forested groves, and wooden huts. However, even then, the name of Ateities (Future) Street suggested that in the near future, there would be a city here too. Almost five decades later, the environment has changed dramatically from the remote rural outskirts of Vilnius to a densely urbanised patchwork of apartment blocks. By the way, the School for the Blind and Visually Impaired is still operational, and the nearby bus stop has been renamed after one of the most famous blind poets, Antanas Jonynas.

It should be noted that the route of Ateities Street was not created from scratch; it follows the old road that led from villages such as Fabijoniškės and Pašilaičiai to the Kalvarijų (Calvary) Church. At that time, churches were not very numerous in the area, so the importance of this road to pious villagers was considerable.

A little further along, past the viaduct and the junction on the right, keep your eyes peeled for a large, dark complex of non-residential buildings. It is currently home to many different businesses, but some Vilnius residents refer to the place as ‘Venta’ after the high-tech company that once operated here. ‘Venta’, then considered a secret factory and codenamed ‘P.O. Box 78’, was established in 1962. Again, it is fair to imagine that at that time, this site was far removed from the remotest mere whiff of urban bustle. This was necessary not only to keep the plant safe from prying eyes but also to ensure that it was resistant to any unwanted vibrations or noises from the city.

The ‘Venta’ factory produced microchips, high-speed frequency dividers, and analogue-to-code converters. The microchips were used in televisions, household appliances, cameras, electric motors, and thermal furnaces. It was also where the circuits that enabled two-way communication in space were developed. In fact, during the Soviet era, around 80% of the company’s production was destined for the military industry. 

Among the most interesting traces of the company’s history are the musical synthesisers designed and produced by the ‘Venta’ factory. More than ten models were produced, among which were giants the size of half a car and a bright red machine for children with the noble inscription ‘Made in Lithuania’ (written in English!). You can read more about the synthesisers on the excellent website: sintezatorius.lt.

And now, on your left, you’re probably passing by Jomantas Park, which is full of discoveries; it’s another place to take a breather if you haven’t visited it yet.

Baltupiai is one of the smaller districts of Vilnius, roughly half the size of other large residential areas such as Žirmūnai, Lazdynai, Šeškinė, or Fabijoniškės. The route of the current Didlaukio Street more or less follows the old path next to the forest, which meandered through the carved terrain. Since much of the forest has been cleared, one can only imagine what a breathtaking landscape must have opened up from this high ground overlooking the city

Incidentally, the complex topography meant that Baltupiai became partly an experimental district – Lithuanian architects, together with their Finnish colleagues, carried out a variety of studies and analysed how to creatively solve the problems of a large development in such an expressive landscape. It is not for nothing that, in addition to the then common and somewhat outdated large-panel blocks of flats, red-brick apartment blocks, which were considered to be more luxurious, also sprang up in Baltupiai. A dam and a recreational area were created on the Cedron stream, which meanders in the lowland to the right and has been preserved and enjoyed by the inhabitants of Vilnius ever since.

The Baltupiai district was built in the late 1980s. It took its name from a village along the Cedron River called Baltupiai or Boltupie (from ‘White River’). One other house in the village has survived to this day. On the other side of the stream, there was a village called ‘Nowosiolki’, which translates from Polish into Lithuanian as ‘Naujakiemis’ (‘New Yard’) in Lithuanian. The name of the bus stop a little further away has immortalised this name and serves as a reminder of times gone by. 

Kalvarijų Street is one of the longest streets in Vilnius, stretching for about 5.5 kilometres, with the numbering of buildings reaching number 335. This street is not only long; it’s also very old, and the main incentive for its creation was the Vilnius Calvary, or the Way of the Cross, which was laid out in 1664 in the Forest of Verkiai. Such roads became popular throughout Catholic Europe in the 16th and 17th centuries and were established as an alternative to the real Jerusalem and the places of Christ’s passion described in the Bible. The locations were specifically chosen to match the topography of Jerusalem as closely as possible – hills, streams, valleys, and even the exact distances between the stops had to be as close to Jerusalem as possible.

Many pilgrims would start their long journey to Vilnius Calvary in the Old City. Then they crossed the Green Bridge, after which the most direct route to the Calvary began. Imagine that it was not only individual believers who were making their way here every day but also tens of thousands of people from all over the area who flocked here en masse at Pentecost. On their way to the pilgrimage, the pilgrims were welcomed by roadside inns and chapels famous for their miracles, and for the inhabitants of the neighbouring villages, it was even an additional source of income. It is said that those village men who were exceptionally eloquent could lead the entire pilgrimage from the town towards Verkiai and thus attract as much attention as the priests. Surprisingly, before the war, the Vilnius authorities even suggested that a new, separate street be built for pilgrims, as during major religious festivals, they would clog up Kalvarijų Street to the point where it was difficult for the city’s transport to get through. This utopian idea was never realised, and in the Soviet era, the Way of the Cross was officially closed, and the street’s religiously tinged name was changed to that of ‘Iron’ Felix Dzerzhinsky, the founder of the USSR’s intelligence and security service, which was the apparatus for brutal repression. 

In the past, a large industrial area used to be located on the other side of Kareivių Street, with two famous factories – ‘Kuro aparatūra’ (literally ‘fuel equipment’) and ‘Sigma’ – as its dominant landmarks. The ‘Kuro aparatūra’ area encompassed what you see on your left – yellow brick and reinforced concrete structures, as well as renovated multi-coloured buildings stretching all the way to the crossroads. The giant company, which employed nearly 10,000 workers, produced pumps and parts for diesel engines, injectors, and other parts. The factory had sports clubs, a stadium on the other side of Kalvarijų Street, recreational facilities, a training complex, and even its own printing press. Despite its powerful muscles, the factory was heavily dependent on Soviet production chains and soon faced serious challenges after the collapse of the USSR. At the beginning of independence, it even had to rely on bartering for goods, when Vilnius fuel pumps were paid for with tractors made in the CIS (the Commonwealth of Independent States that began to exist when the Soviet Union was dissolved), while these and other agricultural machinery were sold by the Vilnius residents in a specialised shop opened in the factory. Finally, in 2004-2005, ‘Kuro aparatūra’ completely ceased operations.

The history of the plant dates back to Mikhail Gorbachev’s visit to the factory in January 1990, when the head of the collapsing communist empire tried to save it by meeting with the factory workers. To Gorbachev’s surprise, not only did the people of Vilnius not welcome him with open arms, they demanded full independence for Lithuania. This confrontation was widely reported in the press and historical accounts of the time.

The area has changed rapidly in recent times, but you can probably still recognise the former production workshops.

We are not sure if you will be able to cross one of the busiest junctions in Vilnius – Kalvarijų-Ozo-Kareivių – without getting stuck in traffic. But for now, we’ll tell you about another important industrial heritage site. The large group of buildings on the left is the former Vilnius Computing Machinery Factory, commonly known as ‘Sigma’. You will see its authentic logo on the roof of the tall administrative building. When the complex was being built, the word on the street was that a ‘mathematicians’ factory was going up. In fact, the folk at ‘Sigma’ produced a whole range of electronic products, from today’s relatively simple cash registers to the first Lithuanian computers called ‘Rūta’. Today, you can see ‘Rūta’ in action at the Museum of Energy and Technology. The factory’s arsenal of products also included data loggers and scanners, and ‘Sigma’ was well known among young people for a variety of arcade games ranging from table football to ‘Dragon’s Castle’. Throw in a few kopeks, and you could play for a while. Interestingly, at the end of the last century, ‘Sigma’ even assembled computers from the legendary American company ‘IBM’ under a special licence. 

The former ‘Sigma’ site covers an area of more than 11 hectares between the current Kalvarijų, Lukšio, Verkių and Treinio Streets.

It’s time to briefly discuss the history of buses in Vilnius. At the beginning of the 20th century, Vilnius residents had access to a horse-drawn tramway with three routes, as well as to carriage drivers – old-fashioned horse-drawn taxis. There was also one other private car. In some cases, steamboats were available for river crossings.

The bus era began in 1909, when, on the initiative of the businessman Leišgoldas, a bus in summer ran from Cathedral Square to Verkiai – a popular picnic spot but quite remote, so it is not surprising that the pioneers of bus transport saw an unfilled niche here. It is not entirely clear exactly what route the bus took, but it must have reached what is now Bronius Laurinavičius Square, where the two roads to Verkiai (Verkių and Kalvarijų Streets) have been branching off since ancient times.

In February 1910, the entrepreneur Sara Jozelit launched a second route – Žvėrynas-Cathedral Square-Antakalnis. It should be noted, however, that the first buses, or omnibuses, as they were called, were often out of order, so such transport was neither reliable nor regular, and it did not come cheap. Bus transport has had its ups and downs since then. One of the most interesting periods was in the 1940s when Swiss Saurer buses trundled through the streets of Vilnius. At that time, the bus garage in Vilnius was run by Alfred Rietmann, who also hailed from Switzerland; he carefully described and recorded his impressions of the unknown Eastern European provincial city on camera. There is even a book about this period!

After the Second World War, Vilnius was building a new public transport system based on the Soviet model, already dominated by technology from the East. Bus route Number 10 is one of the earliest, as the number of this route testifies. As early as the 1960s, it ran from the current ‘Tauragnų’ stop on Kalvarijų Street to Markučiai. Eventually, the route in the northern part grew longer in the direction of Žirmūnai until finally, in 1979, with the construction of the Baltupiai district and the construction of Didlaukio Street, the No 10 bus turned away from Žirmūnai and started to turn towards Baltupiai, and, with the rise of Fabijoniškės, towards it. In summary, the number 10 bus has been stopping in Markučiai since time immemorial, while the other end of the route has grown longer and longer in line with the growth of the city. I wonder how this route will change in the future?

We are slowly approaching the city centre. On the left, you can see the onion domes of the Russian Orthodox Church of St. Michael the Archangel. It was built at the end of the 19th century as a result of the Tsarist policy to strengthen the influence of Orthodoxy. However, it was not only for the local population but also for the garrison of the nearby military town. The church was built not only as a place of worship but also as a school – note the lower side wings of the building.

Behind the church is the market square, officially registered on this site since 1903. Almost at the same time, the Halės Market was established, but the differences between the two markets were substantial – Halės was a modern, covered market with many amenities, while Kalvarijų Market was more like a meeting place for buyers and sellers in an open space. However, there was no shortage of hustle and bustle, and there was a time when trade was almost round the clock. The 1960s saw major changes, with the first specialised yellow brick building for meat appearing in 1953, followed by two more hanger-like halls for dairy products and fish. A brick fence surrounded the area. As the 21st century dawned, it was time for another modernisation, which was completed in 2016 with landscaping and new buildings. The outdoor flea market next to the market – not always legal but certainly colourful – has a vibe of its own. To get the full experience and absorb the unique aura, come at weekends when the market is at its most active. 

We are now travelling through the Šnipiškės district. It’s one of the oldest in Vilnius and definitely worthy of the title of a historical suburb, as it began to take shape in the days when the real city was still confined to the present Old Town. It was also the only suburb on the right bank of the Neris. If one needed to travel to Ukmergė or Riga, one passed through Šnipiškės. It is important to note that the boundary of Šnipiškės was considered to be just over the Green Bridge, while the wooden part of the district to the right is later, mainly consisting of buildings dating from the turn of the 19th and 20th centuries. A small section of this area is officially recognised as cultural heritage, so if Vilnius is lucky, it will soon be able to boast an aesthetic, cosy neighbourhood that is a testament to the craftsmanship of old architecture and which, at times, redolent with the scent of cherries or apples. It is important to note that only a narrow strip of buildings is officially considered heritage, so the majority of the buildings will probably not remain in the near future. Incidentally, this heritage area was named ‘Skansen’ in 1993 after the name given to the world’s oldest folk museum near Stockholm. ‘Skansen’, as a generic term, was later used to refer to various historic wooden settlements across Europe.

‘Žaliasis tiltas’ or the Green Bridge is the oldest bridge in Vilnius, crossing the river Neris. Of course, it may have looked different or had different names in the past, but the first bridge was built in this place. The year 1536 is when the two banks were first connected by a timber and masonry structure. The construction of the bridge was extremely risky and expensive, and to compensate for the costs, a toll was introduced to pay for the use of the bridge; the bridge was a monopoly as it was forbidden to build any other bridges across the Neris from Kernavė to Bystritsa (in Belarus)! All this easily explains why Vilnius is so different on both sides of the river – on one side, there are crooked streets, red roofs, and church towers, while on the other side, there is much more glass, concrete, and asphalt. Incidentally, the street behind the bridge reminds us that it was Albert Goštautas, the then Governor of Vilnius, who had the privilege of being allowed to commission the construction of the bridge. 

Of course, what we see now is not the image that travellers in the 16th century used to describe: “The bridge over that river has large stone gates on both sides and is covered in a wood-shingled deck…” In the course of almost 500 years, the bridge has been destroyed many times, burnt, dismantled by floods, and unable to withstand the pressure from floating river ice, causing ice jams. When the Soviets built the current version of the bridge in 1951-1952, a press report estimated that this was the 12th reincarnation of the Green Bridge! So it is a real chameleon bridge. By the way, it was nicknamed the Green Bridge in the 18th century simply because someone had the idea to paint its railings green. And despite all of the ensuing political and architectural pendulum swings, its colour has remained the same to this day. And now, as you ride over it, dream – if the Green Bridge was destined to be born for the thirteenth time, and you were the city’s mayor or chief architect, what would it look like?

Nowadays, Vilnius has both a Presidency and a Municipality, but everyone understands that these are separate institutions with their own spheres of activity. In the same way, in days gone by in Vilnius, there were two separate centres of power – the City Hall was the heart of the life of the city, while Cathedral Square was the stronghold of the entire state of the Grand Duchy of Lithuania. Nowadays, the square seems to blend seamlessly into the rest of the Old Town, but back in the 18th and 19th centuries, the area was much more enclosed as it was surrounded by a wall with gates and towers. The pink granite slabs laid in the square indicate exactly where the defensive walls stood. Archaeological excavations a couple of decades ago uncovered the well-preserved foundations of the fortifications, so it was decided to mark them. Note the Bell Tower – its base is made of flint, with small windows that are not exactly designed for gazing through and enjoying the view. This indicates that it was once built as a defensive tower, and only much later was it raised and turned into a bell tower. In addition, the area was surrounded by the old Vilnelė River, so it was a well-fortified complex, in fact, an island. In place of the traffic that now flows along the road around the Cathedral, water used to flow. Today, the Vilnelė flows into the Neris behind Gedimino Castle Hill, but this is actually a 14th-century canal. Incidentally, Gedimino Hill is a natural continuation of the surrounding hilly park, but after it was adapted for defence, a channel to the river was dug and the surrounding terrain was levelled, and the hill began to look particularly majestic as if it had emerged from the ground. The bronze model of the old square, located right next to the monument to Gediminas, is a particularly vivid representation of its former form. If you have time, be sure to explore it.

By the way, did you know that in addition to the Upper and Lower Castles, there was also the Crooked Castle? It was located where the Kalnų Parkas is now. The wooden Crooked Castle and City existed until the end of the 14th century but did not survive the battles of Jagiełło (Jogaila), Vytautas, and the Crusaders, which led to the destruction of the wooden fortress in 1390 – it was never to be rebuilt again. 

In pagan times, there was a sacred grove of oak trees where the Bernardine Garden now delights the citizens of Vilnius. In the 15th century, when Lithuania was already a Christian country, and the Bernardines arrived, some of the royal lands were donated to the monastery. The Bernardines administered the territory for almost 400 years. They created a spectacular garden in a marshy area with ponds, canals, and gardens and brought in exotic tree species. Part of the plot was not only used for recreation but also for farming, with a bakery, a brewery, stables, granaries, a sauna, and workshops. In the 19th century, the site was where the Botanical Garden of Vilnius University was located, but when the Tsarist authorities closed both the Bernardine monastery and the University, they decided to start a new transformation. At the end of the 19th century, the painter Aleksander Władysław Strauss and the engineer Jakub Jasiński drew up a new project, adapting the garden to the needs of the city. New paths, a wooden pavilion, a bowling alley, a summer theatre and a skating rink during the wintertime were added. The recently established Vilnius Cyclists’ Society also liked to meet here. An important fact is that the garden, which opened in 1888 after a transformation, became the first public park in Vilnius! After all, previously, the most beautiful gardens in the city belonged to monasteries and were closed to the public. So this place is a pioneer of the city’s open park culture.

In 1960, the garden was redesigned once again. In general, in the 20th century, this place changed its name like a kaleidoscope – at the beginning of the 20th century, it was called the Botanical Garden; in the Soviet era, it was called Youth Garden, while for most of the independence period, it was called Sereikiškių Park. It is true that the boundaries of all these green areas were slightly different, but the heart was the same. And the garden, which opened in 2013 after reconstruction, has more or less the same look as the one created by Jasiński and Strauss at the end of the 19th century.

By the way, the modern centralised water supply system was also built right next to the Bernardine Garden, where the foundation stone for the future water pumping station was laid in July 1912. It is slightly hidden behind the Bernardine Church. It is home to the Water Management Museum, and Old Town residents still enjoy the taste of the delicious water from the boreholes in the garden.

If we were in Vilnius in the 16th and 18th centuries, we would be on the edge of the city. Where Užupis Bridge now crosses the Vilnia (or Vilnelė river), a city wall and a gate called the Saviour’s (or Spaso) Gate once stood. In the past, Užupis was the gateway to the East, including Moscow and Polotsk, so Polocko Street in Užupis really does correspond to this historic route. Sometimes the road to Polotsk was even called the ‘salt road’ because of the luxury goods that travelled along it.

Paradoxically, although Užupis (meaning beyond the river) was one of the oldest inhabited parts of the city, it was left behind as soon as the defensive wall began to encircle the city. In 1503, the citizens of Vilnius began to build a 6-metre-high fence on all sides of the city to protect themselves from Tatar attacks, but they did not include Užupis in the inner perimeter, as they decided to use the river Vilnia as a natural defensive barrier and to leave Užupis on the outskirts. Thus, it became a suburb for several centuries.

As well as other suburbs further along the Vilnia, Užupis was famous for its water mills – imagine that in the old days, a person could hardly cope with the wide Neris River, while the Vilnelė, although also capricious, was easier to harness. It was gradually overrun by the most important industrial engines of the time – water mills. They were used not only for grinding grain but also for bleaching canvas, sawing planks, and anything else that could rationally utilise the power of the Vilnia. The nearby Tymo quarter is also linked to industry and crafts. Did you know that the name derives from the word ‘tymas’, which means the well-tanned white skin of a goat? This reminds us that for many years Vilnius leatherworkers were concentrated in the vicinity of Užupis.

Behind Užupis, just on the other side of the Vilnia, was the suburb of Paplauja. Part of it is today the new district of Paupys. It may be hard to imagine now, but Paplauja was home to a number of natural channels of the Vilnia, as well as artificial canals, islands, and bridges to reach them. During the Soviet era, a giant electricity meter factory was built here, and in the last few years, it has been replaced by a modern housing and office district.

The post-industrial image on the left shows the radical change that took place after the war. The suburb of Paplauja, which was considered one of the most picturesque suburbs by the old inhabitants of Vilnius, was partly industrialised during the Soviet era. In addition to the aforementioned electricity-meter factory, machines began to whirr in the reinforced concrete factory, knitwear, and canning factories. And the buildings to your left are the former ‘Audėjas’ (‘Weaver’) factory, which produced tapestries for covering furniture, as well as curtains, for example, for theatres. ‘Audėjas’ moved some years ago, and new buildings are already going up on this site. Interestingly, the impressively bulky production workshops are now being used assiduously by the global film industry. Some of the famous images from the ‘Chernobyl’ TV series filmed using props and computer graphics were created here. If you remember the scene where Legasov walks to Gorbachev’s reception on the red carpet – it was filmed in the ‘Audėjas’ workshops. 

Let’s dedicate the last minutes of our journey to Markučiai. This is the area most famous for the estate of the same name. In ancient times, the area was ruled by various noblemen – the Chodkiewicz and Kiška families – but there is virtually no heritage left. The most prominent and visible trace is from the late 19th century. At that time, Markučiai was acquired by the railway engineer Alexei Melnikov. It was he who, in 1868, built the building on the hill that now houses the Pushkin Museum. By the way, the poet Alexander Pushkin himself has never visited! So what is Pushkin’s connection to Markučiai? It’s simple – Varvara, the daughter of Melnikov, the aforementioned engineer and owner of the house, married Grigory Pushkin, the son of Alexander Pushkin, and the couple moved to Markučiai, although not immediately. Grigory and Varvara brought back from Russia some authentic objects that had belonged to the poet, and in 1935, after the death of Varvara Melnikova-Pushkin, her final wishes, as listed in her will were fulfilled – to establish the Alexander Pushkin Museum on the site. In addition to the museum, there is also a bust of the poet and part of the park, a chapel, and the cemetery where Grigory and Varvara Pushkin and a few other inhabitants of the estate are laid to rest.

The history of Markučiai, and in particular, the part to the right, which is made up of expressive hills with haphazardly scattered wooden houses, is important in that it was shaped mainly by the fact that Varvara Pushkina, widowed and in serious financial difficulties, had to downsize her holdings severely between 1930 and 1935 and sell land plots to settlers to raise funds. It was from the plots of land that were cut off and sold from the Markučiai estate that a large settlement resembling a mountain region was formed. Be sure to take a walk and amble through it, but be warned that you will have to trudge up and down!

Here we are at the final destination, dear travellers! Markučiai is a wonderful place to end your trip. Those who are hungry for history can visit the museum straight away, or if you fancy a walk, why not stroll in and around Markučiai Park? If it’s a hot summer’s day, why not jump into the Vilnelė River to cool off and refresh your tired body?

Bye!