Sóstói Múzeumfalu is something that surprises a lot of people who don’t associate northeastern Hungary with open-air living history museums. Nestled just outside the city of Nyíregyháza, this “village” is dedicated not to a single town or age, but to the lifestyles, traditions, and family dramas of the past two hundred years in the surrounding Szabolcs-Szatmár-Bereg county. If you’re a traveler who finds yourself more captivated by faded wood, hand-hewn buildings, and stories whispered by floorboards than by the sleek glass of modern galleries, Sóstói Múzeumfalu should rocket up your must-see list.
The word “skanzen” (derived from the open-air Skansen museum in Stockholm) is in itself a clue to the kind of experience awaiting you. Here, authenticity isn’t a matter of new paint and roped-off displays: it’s seeing the shifting sunlight on pottery in a thatched kitchen, breathing in the distinct scent of dried corn cobs hung from rafters, and dodging a flock of chickens if you come during a festival day. Launched in 1979—which is relatively recent as these living museums go—Sóstói Múzeumfalu was established to preserve the disappearing folk architecture, crafts, and rural heritage of the region. It’s a project that feels as though someone, perhaps dreaming big in an old brewpub in downtown Nyíregyháza, once said, “Let’s literally move our entire rural history to one place!” And they did, structure by structure.
The heart of the museum beats with more than just nostalgia. It is divided into sections according to the local subregions and their particular styles of village structure. You’ll wind your way through original homes, barns, workshops and a wooden Protestant church that has stood sentinel since the 18th century in a village called Tiszakóród before it was relocated here to avoid ruin. If you’re curious about what life was like on the edge of the Great Hungarian Plain—and how the practicalities of weather, water, and isolation shaped everyday realities—this “village within a forest” is about as compelling a time machine as you can find.
What makes Sóstói Múzeumfalu delightfully unpredictable is how human it all feels. It isn’t just a repository of static relics. The skilled craftspeople working at the open-air museum aren’t actors, but contemporary artisans plying trades much as their grandparents did: blacksmiths at the forge, weavers at their looms, potters turning the wheel. Children can try their hands at molding dough or whittling wood—expect to see more than a few faces smeared with jam after seasonal baking. During holidays and festivals, traditional music rings out and the courtyards fill with the aroma of goulash cooking over open flames. There are demonstrations, pop-up workshops, storytellers, and the kind of hands-on fun that always leaves you feeling as though you wish you’d brought your grandmother along.
It’s impossible to overlook how important this museum is, both regionally and nationally. As rural depopulation has been a fact of modern European history, the buildings and the intangible knowledge they contain—recipes, dances, forms of address—risk vanishing. Here you can literally walk through the vanished world of 19th-century Hajdú farmers, or step inside the ring of low whitewashed houses typical of the Szatmár villages. Sóstói Múzeumfalu doesn’t skirt the hard questions, either; you’ll find exhibitions about the changing status of women, domestic poverty, emigration, and the many faces of family life. Guided tours run year-round, but if you prefer to wander alone, you’ll find English language guides to help decipher the meaning of mysterious wooden carvings or odd agricultural devices.
One of the joys of Sóstói Múzeumfalu is how it brings together what could be dry textbook material and makes it living, breathing, and occasionally muddy. There’s plenty of grassy space for a picnic beside one of the tranquil ponds, and it’s not unusual for a visit to stretch from a quick hour into a half-day amble, especially if you find yourself drawn into a spontaneous folk dance rehearsal or an elaborate wedding recreation. There’s an unfussy, open feeling (the “Sóstó,” or “salt lake,” nearby only adds to the appeal if you want to dip your toes in after a day learning about life before electricity).
A visit to Nyíregyháza’s Sóstói Múzeumfalu is perfect for anyone who’s curious about history at eye level rather than behind glass—whether you arrive via modern train or wander up the leafy path from the neighboring zoo. For anyone ready to swap the rush of museums for the slow, steady rhythms of rural life, there’s nothing quite as unexpected, or as rewarding, as a stroll through Hungary’s largest open-air museum.
