I’ve written about Rijeka in a previous post – that big, industrial, antifascist, working-class city on the Croatian coast… that somehow flies under the radar. Think of it as the Detroit of Yugoslav shipbuilding – gritty, proud, and unpolished – and yet, it wore the crown of European Capital of Culture in 2020.
Today, we’re heading uphill – well, technically, we took the bus – to explore the area around the historic fortress of Trsat. It’s a popular spot for grabbing a coffee with a panoramic view of the city and the Adriatic coast. But don’t stop there.
Wander a bit further and you’ll find a wide, open green plateau atop the hill. This is the site of the Shrine of Our Lady of Trsat, a well-known pilgrimage site. Whether you’re a believer, spiritual, or just someone who likes quiet spaces, this area feels like a calm, breezy oasis far from the city’s noise and fumes.
Hidden gem of Rijeka: Park of Heroes
Keep walking through the church courtyard and, once you exit, you’ll stumble upon another green space – the Park of Heroes. Given its proximity to the shrine, you might assume there’s a connection to Liberation Theology… but nope.
The park is actually dedicated to fallen heroes of World War II – the Partisans who fought against the Nazis and their puppet regimes. I’ve always found brutalist and socialist monuments to be a powerful, almost defiant tribute to our grandparents’ generation. But let’s be honest: few things match the atmosphere of a peaceful Mediterranean memorial garden.
Beneath the shade of pines and cypresses, surrounded by layers of green and glimmers of blue, stands a striking white memorial ossuary – a resting place for those who gave their lives in the struggle for liberation.
Almost blending into the stone due to its pale lettering, you’ll find lines from the poem “Naša sloboda” (Our Freedom) by Ivan Goran Kovačić – anti-fascist fighter, poet, and casualty of the war. I won’t attempt a full translation (it deserves better), but here’s the gist:
He speaks to Freedom itself. Even if it’s crawling now and cannot yet fly, he says, one day it will rise and soar – over their dead bodies – avenging death by bringing new life.
A cat and an unexpected invitation
Just as we were getting ready to leave, a little sunburned and sleepy, a stray cat wandered into view. Naturally, we followed it – as one should – and it led us down a quiet path, straight to the entrance of the ossuary.
Inside, you’ll find the engraved names of those who fought in WWII – mostly young people. It’s a somber, moving space, but not forgotten. The presence of fresh flowers and lit candles made it clear: locals still care deeply about this place.
One section of the wall remains free of names. Instead, there’s another poem, or perhaps a song lyric. I’ll do my best to capture its spirit:
“We have fallen for something – to be passed on to you, forever. For the flame to be carried by each new generation.
And no, we are not silent.
We said what we meant – and it will remain clear, always.”
