Ečka is a castle on the way to Zrenjanin. Immediately to clarify that a castle is a bit of a strong word…
Because in our country everything that has a tower is called a castle.
I wasn’t about to go there without a lot of preparation(garlic, holly water, etc.) because Ecka an evil reputation.
The road to Ecka leads through a grassland. A grassland is: “a spacious area of cattle-breeding purposes, especially for the cultivation of horses and pigs. Are rural, urban-planned settlements with a definite infrastructure, where people know where and how they live. They were built in the 19th century, during the Austro-Hungarian period. ”
This is what the professionals says, and I say that a grassland is a place where there is nothing…
In the middle of which, someone decided to make a castle…
However, this position is ideal for hunting and some other activities, as they say.
The outside of the castle is painted in a merry red color. Probably against malaria.
I’m entering slowly. In the front there is ‘nice’ statue of a “Girl and Pigeon”. The birds chirp, the water in the nearby fountain is burbling. It’s nice.
This place wants to trick me.
For a start, it’s wheelchair accessible, it’s like they made it for me.
Here I can relax a little and order some juice. The beautiful nearby fountain creates an illusion of shade.
While I’m waiting for my juice and resting my eyes, I’m thinking about who else was drinking tea or something stronger here.
You can see that this place was made for enjoyment.
Many well-known figures from the aristocracy of the Austro-Hungarian monarchy came for vacation here. First they would go hunting, then racing and then bowing to the God Hedonis. Eating, drinking and having fun. Some even married here. Franc Ferdinand secretly married in the church here after one of his many parties.
The last time he was in Ecka was two days before his assassination in Sarajevo.
The problem is whoever drank tea here did not have a ‘good ending’.
Prince Rudolf, the son of Franjo Josif, who hanged himself later, was also among the visitors. Also King Alexander was also a frequent guest who also did not die peacefully. Destiny was not better even to the owners of the castle. One of the sons Janos died in a fight defending the honor of a lady. Ecka itself got a name of the wife or daughter of Atilla, who also died here from fever long before the castle was built.
There is also the cursed tower which has a legend about the dogs who mauled an actor that had fallen in love with the owners daughter. They say that the barking can be heard to this day.
Now if I didn’t convince you … it’s your choise.
But the castle was not always like this. It was opened with great pomp, two centuries ago. Count Lazar did not spare any expanses.
He called over 300 blue blood officials who were transported by carriages, surrounded by luminous lamps, to the castle through a landscaped village. The streets, the squares were all surrounded and the parade was lit by torches. New uniforms were ordered for the servants, and the boss Agoston ordered that no one should be hungry in those days. A cook from Vienna was brought in. In the evening there was a torch parade, and on the next day a hunting was planned for the gentleman, and for the ladies a relaxing gondola ride on the lake. And in the end, this all ends with the famous Ecka Ball.
They knew how to party.
One of the guests at the opening was Count Estherhazi, one of the most eminent rulers of that time, who on the third day, as a surprise, brought the then nine-year-old Franz List to hold one of his first concerts with which he announced that he would become one of the greatest virtuoso of that time.
I’m rolling through the park that has survived all this.
There are also several monuments.
It is a beautiful day and a bus full of cheerful tourists arrives.
At that moment the juice that I ordered finally arrives. I’m thinking should I drink it or leave and pretend like I wasn’t there. Because of the curse. And then I remember that I was not some important guy that the fate would be wasting time with me, I was neither Sir Marko nor von Veličković, I only remember my ancestors until the sixth knee.
So I drink that juice and I’m glad I came.
Traveled and enjoyed,
Marko Veličković
