I was surprised that Maribor didn’t make the list of the top 50 most walkable cities in the world. Or even the 33 most walkable cities in Europe. This confirms my suspicion that the city hasn’t yet been discovered. Slovenia’s capital Ljubljana is where most tourists head for. That and Lake Bled. I’m a fan of the former but think the latter is overrun, overrated, and overexposed.
Maribor, on the other hand, is delightful.
Strolling down by the River Drava and a blue-sky-and-sunshine winter’s day was magical. The packed snow and ice made things a little treacherous but there was enough heat in the sun to sit outside and have our coffee.
The sixteenth-century Judgement Tower looms large in the oldest part of the city, Lent. It was here that judgements were pronounced and women were convicted of witchery. Renovated in 2021, this classic example of defensive architecture is now a cultural centre.
Further down, the 700-year-old synagogue is one of the oldest preserved synagogues in Europe. Back in 1497, when Jews were ordered to leave the province, many took the surname Morpurgo to remember their city. If you meet one of the estimated 2300 Jews around the world with this name, there’s a good chance their family tree will have its roots in Maribor. Today, it, too, is a cultural centre.
The city itself is full of fine old buildings set around green parks and café-laden squares. There’s plenty to stop and marvel at. Plenty to see. This is particularly remarkable given that Maribor was bombed repeatedly during WWII and half of it was levelled.
The National Liberation Monument is different. In 1941, after the April Axis invasion, Germany annexed the city and went about re-Germanising it. Local Slovenes were arrested and ethnic Germans imported. Hitler had a thing about the city; he really wanted it to be German. So much so that it was the only city in the occupied Kingdom of Yugoslavia that he visited in person during the war. The partisans were active. Very active.
The Slovene Partisans generally utilized the only methods available to them, which was crude but effective guerilla tactics, sabotage and unconventional warfare. However, the Nazis found these rebels to be a surprisingly difficult group to deal with, even despite their being vastly under-equipped and having much smaller numbers compared to the German Army. In order to prevent more Slovenes from joining these uprising groups, the Nazis began to take as hostages many prominent local Slovenes in Maribor, at which point the Nazis would then declare that these hostages would be executed upon any further Partisan attacks or incursions against German troops. The first executions began on August 24th, 1941 and continued through the war. However, despite these brutal warnings, attacks by Partisan units against the Germans continued unabated. Thus, in retaliation, these innocent hostages were subsequently executed by the Germans, generally either by mass public hangings or by large groups being placed in front of firing squads. Often, the executions were made intentionally macabre in order to impart maximum impact on those observing. By the end of the war, roughly 700 Slovene hostages were executed in retaliation for Partisan actions.
The monument, a 7m tall bronze sculpture shaped like a door knob is impressive. The faces you can see are Partisans and heroes.
The twelfth-century cathedral is dedicated to St John the Baptist and is now home to the remains of Bl. Anton Martin Slomšek, the first Slovene to be proclaimed a blessed. He was beatified by Pope John Paul II in 1999 and many eagerly await his canonisation. Today, he is credited with the country’s nearly 100% literacy rate.
In the late 18th and early 19th century, the Slovenian education system had been nearly destroyed by the Austrian empire, which suppressed the native language and culture. Slovenia was left without its own schools, magazines, newspapers, and books. As bishop, Anton reformed Slovenia’s schools, rebuilding the education system with a Catholic and Slovene foundation. He wrote textbooks, began weekly reviews, and published books and essays on a variety of topics.
I chose the Franciscan Church for mass – The Basilica of Our Mother of Mercy. The red-bricked church and monastery are compelling. It screamed ‘neighbourhood community’. And I’ll admit to a certain fascination with the brown-robed Franciscans and their dedication to St Francis. From experience, monks and friars often make better preachers, too. Not that I could understand a word that was being said – but the vocal variety and body language were excellent (and that’s my gig). There’s a legend doing the rounds of the city as to why the friars wear a rope around their waists. Apparently, in days of yore, someone gave them a cow, but without a rope, they had no way of leading the cow home. They’ve learned. They won’t be caught on the hop again.
It’s a lovely city that is much underrated. But from the signs we saw, they’re doing something about that. By all accounts, the new mayor Saša Arsenovič has plans.
If you do go, be sure to take in the wine tour of Vinag 1847, block off a couple of hours to visit the regional museum, and if you’re into WWII history, take a trip to the suburbs to see what’s left of Stalag XVIII D. And, of course, you could visit Tito’s second wife in Pobrežje Cemetery. I’m sorry I missed her.
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