Wind Street

140 steps descending to the sea and the wingspan of a traveler - that's all it takes to fully embrace and admire the Vântului street in Constanța. The narrowest pedestrian artery in the Constanta Peninsula retains the same charm for which the famous street of "Sforii" was among the tourist attractions of Brasov.

Stradela Vântului, crouched among the buildings erected at the turn of the 19th and 20th centuries, is the second narrowest artery in Romania.

You can see it quite hard, because the entrance from Mircea cel Batran Street, located just a few meters from the Greek Church Metamorphosis, looks more like a lost space between two houses, which you think will be clogged in a closed courtyard. But the street sign showing the intersection of roads confirms the existence of a street.

The entrance, dark and often protected from the sun's rays by the two houses that give you the feeling that they join at the top, tempts you to explore further.

Once you have stepped on the narrow street lined with buildings that are more or less different, on either side, that squeeze you like a vise, it is as if you are transposing yourself into one of Hans Christian Andersen's stories.

Hans Christian Andersen and the Wind Street

And the legend says that the great Danish storyteller even mentioned this narrow street in one of his writings, describing it as a street as wide as a palm. Although the story tickles the ears of visitors, it still lacks the core of the truth.

Famous for his immortal fairy tales, the Dane who gave them life "Snow Maiden" or "Little Mermaids" lived between 1805-1875. As the documents attest, in fact, in the middle of the 19th century, on a long trip to Germany, Italy and Turkey, he arrived from Istanbul, on the water, in the old Kustenge.

The Danish fairy tale creator was shooting, in 1841, in the small port of Ottoman Constanța.

In his notes on this journey, published in Danish under the title "The Poet's Bazaar", Andersen describes the old Kustenge: "Kustendje is perched on a steep bank with limestone cliffs inlaid with shells. No tree, no bush, just a few glassless huts with a thatched roof resting on the ground, surrounded by a stone fence. A flag flies, a group of women watch the arrival under the veil, and the Tartars start shouting to greet the passengers. The wharf consists of stone blocks slammed on top of each other (…) Poor houses, half dilapidated, formed the main street, which was quite wide; here and there lay columns of marble and gray stone which, after their appearance, belonged to an older age. ".

And yet, why couldn't he describe Andersen and the little street of the Wind?

Historical data and geographical coordinates show that it was impossible for the Wind Street to exist when Hans Christian Andersen was beating the dusty alleys of the old Kustenge.

In 1840, Constanța was a very small town. If after the Crimean War between 1853-1856, the city was composed of only a few hundred houses, certainly in the 40s of the nineteenth century there were far fewer buildings. Even Andersen's description shows that he found it here "Just a few windowless huts (…) poor, half-ruined houses" which "Formed the main street".

Given these descriptions and the fact that the old Kustenge had scattered houses, it was not logical that there was this small artery only two meters wide, which could only be created to separate two rows of houses, very close to each other. .

On the other hand, if we consider that the Ottoman wall, ie the edge of Kustenge, was geographically located a little further north of the courtyard of the Hunkiar Mosque, to the former town hall of Constanța, the current Museum of Folk Art, it is clear that the street could not be inside the fortress. This is also because, only in 1868, when the Greek Church of Metamorphosis was built, the edge of the city had extended to the north, ie over the current positioning of Vântului Street. At the time of the construction of the place of worship, there was only a square. Apart from these, none of the buildings on this artery date from the Ottoman period and there are no indications that the current buildings were built on older foundations or were altered in the spirit of a later, more generous era with living spaces and with the facilities of the modern world.

So it is very clear that in 1841 there could not have been such a narrow street in the northern extremity of the Ottoman fortress, as it did not have the characteristics of a border street of the city.

And if the beautiful legend related to the description of Hans Christian Andersen remains just a beautiful fairy tale for Constanta tourists, a careful look at the geography of the area leads us to believe that the Wind Street, which winds like a gorge between the side construction lines, was built as a border between the Greek and Armenian slums.

Stradela Vântului is located at approximately equal distance from Aristide Karatzali and Callatis streets, streets around which the two districts of Constanța Vechi were created. The slums were also built and configured around the Greek (Metamorphosis) and Armenian (St. Mary) churches, which are also diametrically opposed to the small Wind Street. And, considering that these constructions date to the end of the 19th century, it is very clear that the description of the old Kustenge, made by Hans Christian Andersen, could not contain references to Stradela Vântului.

Thus, the small fairytale street, shrouded in Danish fairy tales and Romanian stories from the turn of the 19th and 20th centuries, remains, like the Sforii street in Brașov, a very good place to visit. Especially since the Constanta artery is practically unknown to tourists and uncommon in the memory of the locals.

And here, as in the case of the artery in Brașov, we find unique elements, specific to each area.
If in the case of Sforii Street, the steps among the Saxon-style buildings, with specific architecture, with medieval German touches, direct you to the Tâmpa massif, the descent on Vântului Street, with a Mediterranean scent, of Greek inspiration, opens the sea to your horizon.

A show of architectural styles

There are not necessarily many houses on Vântului Street, but some of them are true architectural achievements of the style, exceptional. What you can see, right from the first steps through this unreal world you suddenly enter, unannounced, is that the old and good tenants of the little-known urban legend were, most certainly, prosperous people with significant financial resources, who appealed to the more modern architectural solutions and which, just as certainly, wanted peace and discretion. As these two things are bought with a lot of money, these houses are far from poor, modest or tasteless. Cut a few years before the First World War, the Wind Street quickly gained an aristocratic, peaceful patina. Cella Serghi, born a few houses below, on Mării Street, next to Prince Suţu, remembers that the streets around her, on which she wandered all day, were paved and not paved with cubic stone: about the legendary artery of the Wind, which connected - across the sea from the central road that flowed into Ovidiu Square, she knows that it was carefully paved with the best quality stone, not with boulders brought from the nearby Dobrogean quarries.

As you enter from Mircea Street, on the left side, you see a beautiful residential building that preserves everything that can be more characteristic for the belle époque before the First World War. The entrance from the alley reveals a common hall, with expressive floral mosaics and zigzags on the floor and, what is even more extravagant, with the original hardware of the wooden stairs that climb, winding, upstairs. Large, beautifully arched windows, with British-Victorian-inspired frames, some of them now ravaged by the dubious taste of the occupants, the apparent red brick façade, the stone balcony patterned with floral motifs, above a majestic entrance, framed by slender columns, with Classic, Hellenistic references, easily convince that this house, divided equally by the two streets, with shrill western alleys, is one of the most beautiful remains of the city of long ago.

On the opposite side of the street, on the right, in the opening, a smaller house, also built at the beginning of the last century, with a single cat and a courtyard overlooking Mircea Street, has the reputation of having hosted, as soon as was standing, Marin Ionescu Dobrogianu, the well-known publicist from the early 1900s and author of the first monograph of Dobrogea. Obviously, this is not signaled anywhere, you let the legends abound until someone decides that the time has come for this city to respect the past and the people who have raised its rank more than contemporary fans can do.

In the middle of the usual 140 steps of the street, on the left side, you can't help but stop with admiration. Ruined and devastated by the household zeal of today's residents, although it is classified as a historical monument, you have the opportunity to discover one of the most successful buildings of neo-Romanian art in the country. A large villa, richly ornamented and consolidated with the most representative signs of style, with a gazebo extremely similar to his smiles from Cotroceni and other famous buildings in Bucharest. A Dobrogea feature exists: the narrow and elongated windows, which go up to the top of the small tower and which undoubtedly recall the minaret of the expressive Royal Mosque in Ovidiu Square. Two open balconies once overlooked the sea. The lower pediment from Strada Vântului brings, vaguely, with that of a cul, the windows open huge to the street and the sea give the impression of air, and the original ironwork of the stairs is also a work with an imprint. All of them definitely push us towards the idea that this small palace, hidden between the narrow spaces of the narrowest extra-Carpathian street, could only come out of the mind and hands of the architect Grigore Cerchez, author and of some neighboring houses, a personal property, on Callatis street. , the other even the villa Suţu, on the seashore.

Immediately next to it, another splendid architectural specimen, this time of the best cubist design, of the 1930s: a single-storey building, long and with a total opening to the street, with a courtyard that certainly once represented a beautiful plot of lawn and flowers. The construction is symmetrical, the balconies, previously open, interrupting the straight and safe lines. Today everything is a poor ruin, neglected and mocked, with the facade fallen, ruined by unsuccessful attempts at modernization. More interesting, perhaps unique in the whole city, seems to be the brick and cement fence of the now decrepit building: with wide arches and zig-zag motifs specific to the style it proves that an elegant property, well located in the Constanta elite, with tastes modern and practical. The last part of the house, descending towards Marcus Aurelius Street, is completely abandoned and the fence disappeared a long time ago, being replaced by domestic gutters, now rotten.

The two neighboring houses, so different in style but just as generous with the open space, prove the owners' perseverance for a quiet life: either you looked out to sea, admiring the Arabian battlements of Prince Sutu's villa, or you looked down the small artery. little walked by awkward passers-by, comfort can be easily imagined. There were filigree of coffee, brought from the junk bazaars of fallen Istanbul or from the crowded ports of the Levant, with dwarf, oriental round tables made of quality brass, Arabic or Persian porcelain cups, small stools, carved wood, with seats made of leather processed in Damascus or Aleppo, patiently brewed coffees, accompanied by jams from local fruits - quince, pear or, for the most daring, figs or oranges - steaming glasses of cold water together with banal conversations, with the sea breeze and with scorching, restful mid-summer sun. (source: www.info-sud-est.ro )

At the lower end, on the left side, the Vântului street offers, together with her smile, Marcus Aurelius, another surprise: a splendid, rich merchant house, from the end of the 19th century - beginning of the 20th century, with obvious Greek architectural accents. In fact, the small square in front of the house clearly pushes us back to the Greek quarter, abandoned for a short time when we started to descend slowly from Mircea Street. The house has a massive foundation, of blocks cut of stone, as they can be seen from the street of the Wind, to offer a not necessarily spectacular but extremely opulent opening in front, with massive, healthy entrances, and a courtyard, today seriously destroyed , in which no doubt they would fit the carts that quickly took the owners to the grain field, to the berths of the port and, often, to the edge of the Ovidiu square, where the mundane life of the city began.

What is certain is that the city of Constanța has a street unique in Romania, a pedestrian artery only two meters wide that takes your steps, over a distance of only 100 meters, through half a century of history. Today it looks shabby, untidy and ugly due to the degrading condition of most of its buildings.

The architectural jewels on Vântului Street, including the two historical monuments, are mocked by the lack of interest of the owners. Stradela Vântului could be a fabulous place, full of history and stories. Today, it remains only the narrowest street in Constanța, full of beautiful almost ruined buildings.