Time travel on Trolleybus 2

Hello, dear travellers! It’s great to see that you have chosen to get around the city by environmentally friendly public transport. But that’s not the only reason why it’s worthy of attention. After all, trolleybuses are a mode of transport in cities around the world, albeit a less-common means of getting around, and in Vilnius, they have been forming their illustrious history since 1956. So, why are we following this particular route and telling the story on Trolleybus 2? It’s no coincidence, either.

On a rainy November day in 1956, Vilnius residents first set their eyes on a new means of transport – the trolleybus – when the wheels of trolleybuses began rolling along the ‘Antakalnis–Station’ or Number 2 route. But why was Trolleybus 1 not the first route? After all, this would have been more logical. The problem was that the construction of the contact network for Route 1, which ran from the station to Žvėrynas, was much slower than had originally been planned. And the authorities felt a sense of urgency to introduce the innovation to the citizens of Vilnius not just at any time but during the events commemorating the ‘October Revolution’. During the Soviet era, this celebration was celebrated with pomp and circumstance, so the launch of the trolleybuses could not be postponed. So, for that occasion, it was decided to start writing history with 2, while the 1st route did not start running until the following year, 1957.

The trolleybuses didn’t get off to a great start – it is said that due to the city’s poor energy capacity, almost half of Vilnius residents had to temporarily disconnect their electricity when the trolleybuses were launched. And the vehicles themselves were extremely uncomfortable – they were Moscow MTB-82D trolleybuses. Unfortunately, they were already technically obsolete. Interestingly, the MTBs were built in an aviation factory! After the end of the war, some companies had, figuratively speaking, nothing to produce, so one of them started to assemble trolleybuses. So, in one respect at least – the fact that the bodies were riveted together from aluminium sheets – they really did look like aeroplanes.

Four years later, in 1960, ‘Škoda’ trolleybuses from Czechoslovakia, which were highly advanced for the time, arrived in Vilnius. The first models were called ‘8Tr’. Soon after, the round, zeppelin-shaped ‘9Tr’ arrived; these trolleybuses were in service until relatively recently and only disappeared from the city’s streets around a dozen years ago. There is still one in Vilnius, but it hasn’t been running on regular routes for a long time. But the angular ‘14Tr’ model is still plentiful in the city – Vilnius residents know these boxy vehicles well; the chances are that you might even be travelling on one now! Interestingly, even other manufacturers, such as ‘Solaris’, still buy many components and spare parts from ‘Škoda’, so Czech machinery continues to keep our trolleybuses roadworthy.

We’ll talk more about trolleybuses later on. For now, let’s talk about the city’s history.

The very heart of the city – Pilies, Didžioji, Vokiečių and the adjacent streets – is virtually free of public transport. Pylimo, on the other hand, is particularly busy. Why is the difference so obvious? Well, because this formed the city boundary for almost 300 years, so you could say that the truly medieval old town of Vilnius ended where Pylimo Street currently lies. Looking to the left, you can imagine that for many years it was just open countryside, whereas the buildings on the right were once the site of the city’s defensive walls. Behind them was Vilnius proper. Of course, these look like ordinary buildings today, but they once formed a wall. Over time, it has been rebuilt; additional walls have been added, and, lo and behold, the defensive wall has become, for example, a residential building.

The city wall was built between 1503 and 1522 to defend the city against the increasingly fierce attacks of the Tartar horsemen. It was the duty of every citizen to either contribute money or work to build the wall; if you didn’t want to, you had to move out of town. The defensive wall stretched almost 3 kilometres and had nine gates. Incidentally, you are just passing a couple of them – Rūdninkų Gate once stood where Pylimo and Rūdninkų Street meet, and Trakų Gate was at the point where Pylimo and Trakų Streets meet. The wall was also surrounded by a moat, so this water made access even more difficult for would-be attackers. The defensive wall stood for a long time – until the end of the 18th century, i.e. almost three centuries. Then, when the Grand Duchy of Lithuania collapsed, and Tsarist Russia took control of the city, the latter decided to dismantle the wall. The official line was that the wall was hindering the expansion of the city. Fragments of the defensive wall still remain in some places. In some cases, it is revealed by the now out-of-place thin holes in the wall of a residential building that were once used for defensive purposes and shooting, while in other places, a strip of former foundations can be seen marked on the pavement. Now, there is only one gate left: Aušros Vartai – the Gates of Dawn. By the way, it was protected from being dismantled by the already famous painting of Our Lady. The Tsar’s army feared that if the gates were torn down, a curse would follow them. So the painting created another miracle by preserving the only gate in the defensive wall.

While the debate rages about whether a metro or a tram system would be more suitable for the capital, it is worth remembering that Vilnius has already had a tram in the past, albeit a rather primitive one. It was pulled by horses, hence its colloquial name of ‘konkė’. One of its three lines ran precisely along Pylimo Street. Imagine that once upon a time, the street was lined with rails, and horse-drawn carriages were dragging along them at around 13 km/h. What is striking is that some towns in the region already had an electric tramway at that time. Therefore, the Konkė, although a novelty in Vilnius, was immediately dubbed obsolete by some of the more sharp-tongued residents. The taxi drivers of the time hollered about the danger of the future vehicle to their horses and to citizens – they heralded accidents and even deaths. But despite the bumpy start, the ‘konkė’ was given the green light and started running on three different routes.

Naturally, Vilnius was trying to keep up and was preparing a project to modernise the tram and convert it into an electric one. Unfortunately, bureaucratic difficulties, the lack of resources, and, finally, the outbreak of the First World War mercilessly destroyed these plans. Interestingly, the tramway did undergo a reincarnation between the two world wars, when Ford internal combustion engines were installed in the old ‘konkė’ cars that were run on the old rails; only the horses became redundant. Unfortunately, due to numerous breakdowns and accidents, the pages of history on trams in Vilnius were closed in 1926, and the rails were dismantled. 

In every town, you will find streets named after the Lithuanian rulers of old – Gediminas, Mindaugas, Vytautas, Kęstutis… Usually, these are the central streets or even avenues of the town, testifying to the importance of these personalities. But what about Jogaila? In Poland, the most prestigious universities and the most beautiful boulevards are named after him. In Lithuania, it’s quite different. One of the most important historical figures in the capital only has a street half a kilometre long. Neither Kaunas, nor Klaipėda, nor other big cities have a Jogaila street at all. Ukmergė has the second largest Jogailos Street. However, even there, Jogailos Street is less than 300 metres long and is squeezed between houses in a remote part of town. This is a telling example of how street names reflect the attitudes of different nations towards historical figures.

Have you ever noticed that Vilnius is completely different on one side of the Neris compared to the other? On the left bank, crooked streets meander, topped with roofs tiled in red, whereas on the right bank, everything is newer, greyer, and more regular. This is a testament to the fact that for most of its history, the capital had only one bridge over the Neris, so there was very little scope for the city to expand across the river. The only place where there was a bridge was where the Green Bridge is now. The first version of the bridge dates back to 1536. As it was so expensive to build, it was decided to charge a toll to those wishing to cross it; the tax burden on travellers lasted for a long time – even until the middle of the 19th century! Incidentally, there was still no other bridge over the Neris at that time, so the monopoly bridge had no competitors. However, the bridge did not get the name ‘Green Bridge’ right away, but only in the mid-18th century, when its railings were painted this colour. And the current appearance of the Green Bridge is actually a reminder of later times – the early post-war period when the Soviet authorities started to replace an earlier bridge that had been blown up during the war. At the time, it was announced that this was the twelfth iteration of the bridge on the same site!

Soon you will be trundling along Žygimantas Street. Admittedly, despite its proximity to the river and its magnificent buildings, it is not very attractive to the city’s residents. However, it once had an interesting prospect – it was intended to become a charming boulevard! The design of the boulevard, which was supposed to be about 26 m wide, began in 1834 when the riverbank was landscaped, the slopes of the bank were strengthened, and the boulevard was planted with poplars. The newly built street was called Набережная (or Embankment) Street in Tsarist times. However, for a long time, no large buildings were built around it – why? Well, because at that time, there was a military fortress on Gediminas Hill, and its proximity impeded the construction. New tall buildings could not be built here without blocking the soldier’s view and the firing area from the hill. Thus, most of the current buildings on Žygimantas Street date from the turn of the 19th and 20th centuries, after the boulevard had been built and the military fortress had been dismantled. As the period of construction was similar, many of the buildings fit together harmoniously. Note that many of the buildings here are truly magnificent and would not put the capital of any great empire to shame.

The dawn of grey Vilnius is the confluence of rivers on the edge of sculpted terrain. Did you know that Gediminas Hill is largely natural and was once an integral part of the Kalnų Park massif? Nevertheless, the Lithuanians of old decided to protect it even more zealously by digging the Vilnia Canal and, as it were, cutting off Gedimino Hill from the rest of the highlands. Cathedral Square was surrounded on all sides by water – the old Vilnelė riverbed. It joined the Neris almost where Mindaugas Bridge stands today. We can no longer see this, as the present confluence is that 14th-century artificial channel. Of course, it has blended into the landscape for over 600 years, so much so that only historians call it a canal.

In the past, it was believed that once you had crossed the bridge over the Vilnia River, you were in the suburb called Antakalnis. Not all of the capital’s current districts can boast the epithet ‘historical suburb’. Žirmūnai, for example, can make no such claims, but Antakalnis is a real historical suburb. It was – and is – very elongated. And how else could it be when it is pressed by hilly terrain on one side and the river on the other? Historical suburbs traditionally formed where the roads leading from Vilnius to other important destinations stretched. Antakalnis developed along the axis that connected the capital of the Grand Duchy of Lithuania with Nemenčinė, Švenčionys, Daugavpils, and eventually, St Petersburg. That is why this road was often used by rulers, not only from Lithuania but also foreign ones, such as Napoleon, with his half-a-million-strong army.

We mentioned that, in the past, Antakalnis used to start right after crossing the river Vilnia. Now, the official administrative boundary between Antakalnis and the Old Town has moved to this roundabout. It dates back to the middle of the Soviet era, as does the adjacent Žirmūnai Bridge, which marked a new stage in the city’s development. The construction of Žirmūnai began in 1961, and, as the first large residential area on the right bank of the Neris, it was in dire need of a bridge. During the construction of the bridge and the roundabout, buildings or parts of buildings (you can notice that the British Embassy building is not symmetrical) had to be sacrificed. The chapel next to the church has also been completely lost.

A very interesting linguistic curiosity happened with Olandų (Hollanders’) Street – it really has nothing to do with the Dutch – there was no community or palace of a nobleman from the Netherlands. The name stems from an inaccurate translation. Before the war, this place was known as Holendernia, which means ‘cowshed’ or ‘dairy farm’; in a word, a ‘byre’, that is all. For some reason, this street became Olandų because it sounds similar. However, in the course of history, this does happen from time to time, so it is both normal and incredible at the same time! Incidentally, for quite a long time, the Embassy of the Netherlands was coincidentally located next to the roundabout.

Antakalnis was extremely popular with the nobility, who not only travelled through it but also built luxurious residences there. Just as people nowadays often choose to live in the peace and quiet offered by houses outside the city but within easy reach of amenities, so, in those days, noblemen sought respite from the hustle and bustle of the city – not somewhere over the hills and far away, but right here, in Antakalnis. A grandiose palace was built by Słuszka at the town end of the suburb. Pac then followed by constructing the impressive Church of Saints Peter and Paul. Later, Sapieha expanded even further into Antakalnis. And then came the powerful influencers of later periods, such as Petras Vileišis, who also chose Antakalnis for his palace in the early 20th century. So, although it is a largely residential area, it cannot be called an ordinary ‘sleeping district’. Indeed, as we wander around Antakalnis, we find that it is richly dotted with buildings with a deep history. By the way, we would like to take this opportunity to visit the Sapieha Palace. Above the entrance, there is an ancient plaque with the old name of the suburb in Latin – Ante collis, meaning before or in front of the hills. Isn’t it amazing that the Lithuanian word Antakalnis (‘ant to kalno’ or ‘on that hill’) and the Latin word for ‘ante collis’ mean almost the same thing?

Do you remember we talked about the horse-drawn ‘konkė’ trams? This mode of transport is commemorated by ‘Tramvajų Street’ in Antakalnis – here’s where the ‘konkė’ depot used to be located, with its wagons, forge, warehouse, and hay for the horses. As soon as you pass Antakalnio g. 47, look out for the sign to Tramvajų Street – the historical ‘konkė depot’ was nearby.

A little further on, behind the ‘Rimi’ supermarket, is the Antakalnis Hospital Campus – an interesting example of a single functional complex. The buildings were built and reconstructed several times during different periods, but they have all retained the same purpose – that of medical institutions. The oldest building is the sturdy, stocky building of Vilnius City Clinical Hospital, which was constructed in 1958. Designed in the spirit of Stalinism, this building has a monumental and palace-like feel and was the first hospital built in the capital after the war. Over the years, the area has been filled with newer, more modern and taller buildings, reflecting changing architectural trends. The name of the next stop – ‘Klinikos’ – will not mislead you as to which institutions continue to dominate the area.

Žolyno Street is just past the Klinikos bus stop on the right. Although not visible from where we are at the moment, the 1st Trolleybus Depot is nearby at Žolyno g. 15. This is the oldest trolleybus’ home’ in Vilnius – it was here that the first vehicles rolled out in 1956. There is another trolleybus depot in Vilnius, cunningly named the 2nd’ troleibusų parkas’, which is located in Viršuliškės near the Press Palace. It opened almost 30 years later than its older brother in Antakalnis, in 1985, to be precise. At that time, with the expansion of both the city and the geography of the trolleybus routes, especially to the west, it was decided that it would be appropriate to open a new trolleybus depot in the western part of the city so as to reduce the number of empty vehicles. The trolleybus you are on serves the central and eastern parts of the city, so after a hard day toiling away along the streets of Vilnius, it will get some rest at Depot No.1.

If we were to go back to the time before the Second World War, we would probably not call the place we are travelling to now Antakalnis, but ‘Pospieška’ or ‘Pośpieszka’ in Polish. Yes, it is a name known only to a few people in Vilnius. In the past, Antakalnis used to end, and ‘Pospieška’ used to begin pretty much where the hospital district is now – before the war, there were hardly any houses there, and so it was as if one suburb was ending and the other was beginning.

It is not easy to say what gave rise to the name ‘Pospieška’. We do know that at the end of the suburb, there was a tavern of the same name that was popular among travellers. However, it was said that it was not worth stopping there for too long, as the city was close at hand and one had to hurry. In Polish,’ Spieszyc się, spešyt’ means ‘hurry up; get a move on’. Therefore, in Lithuanian, ‘Pospieška’ could be called ‘skubutė’. Only history knows whether the suburb got its name from the tavern, or vice versa, or perhaps for other reasons. Interestingly, there is no trace of the suburb’s name in the city’s topography – but why it was erased is also unclear. It could not have been a problem for the Soviets because it had no political undertones and was not otherwise unfavourable. Nevertheless, ‘Pospieška’ had to give way, and the long suburb of Antakalnis was made even longer at its expense.

“So, where was the famous ‘Pospieška Tavern’?” I hear you ask. Although no trace of it remains, one could imagine it being near the roundabout at the last stop in Antakalnis. You might be at it right now. By the way, there is still a café there to this day, but it has nothing to do with the past of ‘Pospieška’, but it is closely linked to our subject – trolleybuses. Even its name sounds affectionate – ‘Trolina’; it was once built for drivers to refresh themselves after their long journey driving through the city.

This is the last conversation between us. We have reached Saulėtekis, the district of science and students. We are greeted by large 16-storey dormitories, once among the first high-rise buildings and distinctive in the surrounding context, hence their nickname – ‘New York’.

Why did the student campus appear here and not, for example, in the Old Town, where the centre of higher education of Vilnius University has been located since the 16th century? The reason is that in the 1960s, there was a widespread conviction across Europe that the scope and intensity of research would grow and the need for education would only increase, so new campuses were built on the outskirts of cities, where they would be able to expand freely in future. It is desirable to have both good transport links and the tranquillity of nature for concentration. Vilnius was no exception. Although other locations were considered, the final choice was the former village of Pylimėliai, on the road to Dvarčionys. Saulėtekis is home to two complexes of scientific institutions – Vilnius University and Vilnius Civil Engineering Institute, also previously known as Vilnius Gediminas Technical University and now VILNIUS TECH. The area is changing quite rapidly, with new buildings being added to the site. So if you were here 5 or 10 years ago, you could say it’s been a long time.

The overhead wires in Saulėtekis are among the newest in Vilnius. The contact network to the student campus was built in 1998, at the same time extending Route No 2. However, the route of ‘Trolleybus 2’ has hardly changed since its grand launch in 1956. The only difference is that the line has been extended to the student campus, and public transport no longer runs along Gediminas Avenue. And of course, the city is changing fast – and what better way to watch it change than when travelling on public transport. Isn’t it great when you’re transported, and you can enjoy the beautiful sights of Vilnius without being distracted? Dear travellers, that’s enough for now. We hope you have had a good time and have seen many things anew through fresh eyes. “Last stop. Please make your way off the bus!” Goodbye!