Partially restored since their discovery several decades ago, the ruins of Havránok overlook a vast swath of land. The Western, Low, and a bit of the High Tatras can all be seen from its hilltop perch. Ascending the steep grade, the first sight which greets you is a quaint wooden hut and the smithy beside it. Representative of the Iron Age, but merely a recent reconstruction, the cottage is a fascinating example of life in Europe at that time, but lacks a certain ancient aura. Yet, that very primeval feeling seems to radiate from the slopes above.

It is hard to discern from the cottage if the stone barrier standing atop the next hill is natural, modern or Celtic in origin. After cresting the ascent, however, it becomes apparent that you are staring at a wall older than most of Europe. Moss and roots strangle its stones and modern supports are needed to keep it up right, but this fossil is strong. It has witnessed more history than most of our modern creations can ever hope to.

Evidence of Celtic settlement was uncovered during the construction of the Liptovská Mara reservoir during the 1970s. Up until the late 800s—with the arrival of missionary Saints Cyril and Methodius—all tribes (Celtic, Slavic or otherwise) in Eastern and Central Europe had been pagan and archaeologic studies have revealed that Havránok was an important religious center for the region. Accordingly, an uncovered sacrifice pit sits at the heart of the complex surrounded by (modern reconstructions of) pillars covered in runes, patterns and the bones of animal victims.

I anticipate returning to this site in the summer. Then, a full living-history museum will be functioning, with actors portraying Celtic inhabitants and showing visitors how Europe’s pagan tribes once lived.

Signed,
Andrew