It’s closing time. In the heart of Budapest’s party quarter, scruffy locals’ bar Wichmann had held out against wave after wave of trendier venues opening up around it – but the final curtain is due to come down very shortly. This weekend may be your last chance to pay it a visit. As a last act of reverence, designer László Bárdos has created a gif in its honour, the lights going out on 32 years of boisterous bar banter. Now 70, owner and Olympic medal-winning canoeist Tamás Wichmann is throwing in the towel, his eponymous pub left to an uncertain fate. Looking around at the nearby cocktail spots and urban drinkeries, its future may already be written. Its past, totalling some 10,000 nights, has long been etched in legend.
On a dark corner where Kazinczy meets Király utca, Wichmann was a rare beacon of light when it opened in 1986. The same year that Queen played Budapest and Maradona lifted the World Cup, Hungary’s capital was bereft of pubs and hostelries. Foreigners drank in hotel cafés, Hungarians drank at home.
In truth, there was nothing much to entice anyone here, just a few simple tables and chairs, a little bar counter, domestic beer in bottles. The only salient feature was Wichmann’s dog, a rather attentive Alsatian. Later on, as more places set up in isolated spots around Pest, ropi were provided for sustenance, thin, thirst-inducing breadsticks. In time, the snack range extended to breaded meat.
The most remarkable thing about Wichmann is how little it has changed in 32 years. Mercury may no longer be with us, Maradona a huge angry shadow of his former self, but the curious time traveller would see little difference between the tatty landmark of today and the pioneer of 1986.
So, let’s all raise a glass to Wichmann – before the lights really do go out.
