As promised, part deux of my What I Did On My Holidays (by H, aged 22 and 7 months) essay.
Part II: Kraków
So, our first train journey of the trip and although it's only a four hour train journey, we use up all our games. I get taught Rummy (I'm not very good at it so I refuse to play again) and in return, I teach the girls blackjack (which I'm excellent at so I force them to play), 20 Questions, the ABC game and I introduce All Time Top Five to my compatriots (they are not impressed.) All this fun and games means that we're not very well prepared when our stop comes up and we have to rush to get our backpacks down from the overhead racks. One of the other men in the cabin very kindly offers his help but then chooses that particular moment to strike up conversation whilst simultaneous blocking the exit of the carriage. Eventually we make our way off the train (after a minor mishap with the train door) and we meet Steph's cousin (who speaks excellent English) and her uncle (who just flings whatever English he knows at us i.e. "Beatles! Manchester United!! Very good!") We're staying in Rzewa which is a little village about an hour outside of Krakow and the family have large plot of land with two houses and a barn built on it. After the short drive from the train station to their homestead, we are presented with a lovely dinner of home-made chicken patties, rice and salad. It is only afterwards that they inform us that they killed that chicken especially for us. On visiting the chickens in the shed later, I feel a little pang of guilt. (Or it may have been indigestion.) There are also giant bunnies flopping about the chicken shed and I fervently hope that I'm not presented with Thumper for lunch tomorrow.
An early start as we're squeezing in two excursions in one day: Oświęcim and Wieliczka. It's a two hour drive to the village of Oświęcim which is home to the Auschwitz concentration camp.
As you walk through the infamous gates that are emblazoned with the ironic slogan, "Arbeit Macht Frei" ('work to be free'), you are confronted with a surprisingly green and leafy boulevard lined with industrial concrete boxes. Although parts of the camp were destroyed after the war most of the actual blocks are still in tact and house exhibitions and tributes to all the ethnic groups that were victims of the Nazi regime. The exhibitions about life inside the camp get grimmer and grimmer as you proceed down the boulevard. One of the final exhibitions are the objects found after liberation, mountains of spectacles, briefcases, shoes, a whole wall of human hair shorn from the corpses of the inmates.
Two of the more infamous parts of the camp were destroyed shortly after liberation, Block 25 (known as 'Death Block' as it housed political prisoners who were later executed in the adjoining courtyard) and all but one crematorium/gas chamber. As you walk into the first room in the crematorium block, it seems just like an empty room with a small candlelit shrine in the middle. Then the truth then creeps up your spine and you realise that you're standing in a disused gas chamber. The crematorium is far more unsettling as the sight of the three remaining cast iron furnaces makes it abundantly clear what the purpose of this particular room was. As Auschwitz is now a tourist attraction, large tour groups are to be expected and there are signs in areas such as the gas chambers and the Execution Wall that photography isn't allowed as it is disrespectful to the masses of lives that were executed. However, schoolchildren being schoolchildren were still mooching around, smoking and being surly and enthusiastically snapping the more grotesque aspects of the camp. One boy was trying to crane his arm into a furnace as far as possible to get a shot. Rather more inappropriately, I saw a father ushering his young child to the Execution Wall for a cheery family holiday shot. Oh, there were also the handful of people that I saw camcordering their Auschwitz experience. I dread to think when the urge seizes them to dig out that particular holiday video.
A quick tour of the camp takes up two or three hours but the full tour which encompasses the nearby Birkenau (also known as 'KL Auschwitz II') takes a whole day. As you can imagine, two hours of Auschwitz is enough to drain anyone, so we decided to forego Birkenau in favour of Wieliczka and the salt mines.
I know that visiting salt mines might sound a bit educational fun but it's more like the London Dungeons, except 135m below the earth's surface. I suffer a little from mild vertigo so the thought of descending hundreds of metres below the surface didn't exactly fill me with joy. Neither did the tour guide's urging us to look down the dizzying 378 steps that we had to walk down to reach the first level of the mines. However, once we were on dry, er salt, we were greeted with the cheery sight of Nicholas Copernicus...made out of salt! The tour progresses through many more chambers all complete with impressive spectacles carved from salt. Perhaps the most impressive and most popular attraction in the mines is the St. Kinga chapel. A cavernous hall illuminated by salt chandeliers and decorated with bas-relief impressions of Biblical scenes and Da Vinci's The Last Supper (made from salt!!)
Even without the impressive St. Kinga's chapel (complete with salt altar), the Wieliczka salt mines would definately have a place in my All Time Top Five Tourist Attractions...EVER. How can I fail to adore a tourist attraction where you are encouraged to lick the walls? We had a brief chat with our lovely tour guide who informed us that a few chambers were closed off as there was a wedding party and a graduation ball taking place in the mines. Ever since then, I've resolved that if I'm ever to marry, it will be in the salt mines and my wedding cake will be decorated with a tiny salt bride and salt groom. Saltalicious!
Day six and we finally get to see Krakow, hurrah. Rather unusually, we are treated to a lie-in as Steph is whisked off on family visits. Mid-afternoon we catch a rickety country train to Kraków (and we are treated to the frankly terrifying experience of walking across rail tracks). First impressions of Kraków are far more favourable than Warsaw - it's far prettier, busier, younger and less industrial than the capital city.
We stroll through the pretty market square and visit St. Mary's Basilica (which rather cheekily charges not only an admission fee but also a photography fee.) As I refused to pay the 5 zloty photography fee I'm rather lacking in photos of the beautiful wooden carved Gothic altar. I am forced to shell out for a postcard instead. Boo. It's off to Wawel Castle which has some sort of bizarre limited ticket system. As it's late afternoon, we've missed the boat on tickets for any of the apartments and rooms of the castle, so we take a stroll around the grounds which are very pretty (but I'm feeling a little castle-d out by this point so the grandeur is a lost on me.) A quick look at the Wawel Cathedral also reveals my fast-growing ennui with gothic cathedrals but my interest is piqued by the woolly mammoth bone that hangs outside the cathedral door:
Odd sight of the day:
Walking through the little park that leads up to the university, we heard a barrage of klaxons and turned around to see this peculiar sight heading towards us. After hiding in some nearby bushes lest they apprehend us, we realise that it's a marketing campaign for Polish domestos. A wise move, I think you'll agree dear readers, when I tell you that moments later, a couple on a bench were interrupted by two of the men in bacteria suits.
We wait by the Dragon's Cave (sounds more impressive than it actually is. It's a little turret that leads down to the Wawel Dragon. Sadly also less impressive than it actually is) for Ewa's friend who is joining us for a drink. However, more pressing matters arise, namely our lack of accommodation for Bratislava and Budapest so a quick session in an Internet cafe becomes an hour and a half long trawl through hostel websites. I give up after an hour and resort to sending out emails and blogging instead. Finally, we secure rooms for our 'B' cities and we are led off to the Jewish district of the city, Kazimierz. By night, Kazimierz resembles east London, lots of little bars and restaurants line the streets, students and young hipsters in emo-glasses spill out onto the streets, beers in hand. We find a little ill-lit bar which is clearly rather trendy, yet a round is a bargainious £5. However, disaster strikes and our pleasant evening is cut short as we realise that we haven't left enough time to get to the station to catch the last train home. This results in a group of panicked girls running across the misty rain-soaked streets of Krakow. Throughout this 20 minute run, I repeatedly curse my choice of umbrella for the day, a full-sized, old-fashioned black number. Luckily we make it on the train with three minutes to spare and we collapse gratefully on the worn seats, red-faced and wheezing as we speed off into the damp night.
Day seven dawns and we have another full day in Krakow to look forward to. However, even before we step foot out of the house, we have a mini-crisis. On entering the dining room, we are presented with three plates of quivering jelly. On closer inspection, there are diced carrots languishing on the bottom of the jelly, while a cloud of shredded chicken floats at the top. After exchanging panicked looks, we sit down and tentatively try this latest culinary surprise. Steph fishes out a chunk of carrot and I carve a sliver of chicken and jelly and we make 'down the hatch' faces at each other. My first thought is "OhmygodI'mgoingtobesick" followed by, "Oh my god, I feed my cat this?!" Luckily, Ewa understands our plight (she's no fan of the chicken and carrot jelly either) and the jelly is quickly whipped away and replaced with the far safer option of bread and cold cuts. We decide to catch an earlier train in an effort to secure tickets for the attractions at Wawel Castle but our cunning plan is thwarted when our train is cancelled. Disaster! This results in us waiting on the freezing cold and torrentially wet platform at Rzewa station for an hour. After fifteen minutes, I can't bear the cold anymore and I reluctantly unfold my Kag In A Bag. Boredom strikes another fifteen minutes later and after espying some giant snails that have been lured out by the promise of rain, I decide to document the life of a Polish snail:
Luckily for us (and doubtless for you too dear readers), the second train arrives as scheduled and I spend the hour-long journey sleeping. When we do finally arrive in Krakow, we're lured into a nearby cafe with it's seductive promises of hot beverages. A large cup of lemon tea later (as is customary in Poland, tea is not taken with milk (or 'mleko') but rather a slice of lemon and sugar), we're ready to climb up the hill to Wawel Castle. Again. Even though it's 11am, there are only tickets for the State Apartments left and we have an hour before our allotted entrance time. So, it's back to the cathedral to kill some time and we get tickets for the crypts and the bell tower. The rickety staircases that wind their way up the bell tower are incredibly narrow and combined with the large crowds, do nothing whatsoever for my vertigo. On my way down (where I can't help but look down) my halting steps and general slowness ensure that quite a crowd builds up behind me. The Italian man who is directly behind me tries to comfort me with some kind words but this only serves to compound my embarassment. The top of the bell tower boasts a pretty view of the city and hoards of tourists swarm around the huge bell (you're meant to touch it and make a wish. Mine was "Please God, let me make it down alive and I'll never make snarky remarks about Gothic cathedrals again.") My trip to the crypts was cut a little short as Steph had a claustrophobia attack (phobia-mania!) and I accompanied her outside where we observed a nun sending a text message and then tucking her phone back into her habit.
The State Apartments aren't as impressive or ornate as the ones in Warsaw Royal Castle or Wilanow but they do boast walls covered in leather. Also, very strict, hawk-eyed attendants who follow you around and intimidated me into not taking any photos. The exterior of the apartments is much more impressive however, lots of little archways and vines, all very Shakespearian and we attempt to act out the Romeo & Juliet balcony scene but a sharp look from an attendant cuts short out performance. After that, it's time for a quick dinner and a stroll around the city to see it by night before catching an early train home (the ghost of the previous night still looming over us).
Day eight sees our last day in Krakow and as Ewa is at work today, we have the morning to ourselves. We catch a train into Krakow and plan out a day of shopping and a tour of the Jewish district. We manage to buy some gifts for Ewa and her family to thank them for their hospitality before the heavens open again. Not even the combined power of the Kag In A Bag and an umbrella keep me anywhere near dry. After taking shelter in a souvenier shop for 20 minutes, we decide that we're too tired and wet to traipse about the city in search of the Jewish district. We leave to catch an early-afternoon train and arrive home to a large homemade lunch of tomato soup, breaded pork and dill mash and chocolate walnut cake. Feeling a little happier and drier, we head back to our rooms and pack. Steph is whisked off on another round of family visits (Uncles Tomek, Stashek, Pieotrek and the amusingly named Bolek, which never fails to amuse us.) We're all ready for bed at 12am and settle in for five hours of sleep.
I wake up feeling as though I've only slept for two hours and my stomach is definately not ready for the huge roast beef sandwich that is waiting for me in the dining room. I manage to hide most of my remains underneath my napkin but I don't escape that easily. Barbara has prepared a veritable mountain of sandwiches for our imminent train journey and we haul the food and our luggage into the car just as the sun is rising.
Part II: Kraków
So, our first train journey of the trip and although it's only a four hour train journey, we use up all our games. I get taught Rummy (I'm not very good at it so I refuse to play again) and in return, I teach the girls blackjack (which I'm excellent at so I force them to play), 20 Questions, the ABC game and I introduce All Time Top Five to my compatriots (they are not impressed.) All this fun and games means that we're not very well prepared when our stop comes up and we have to rush to get our backpacks down from the overhead racks. One of the other men in the cabin very kindly offers his help but then chooses that particular moment to strike up conversation whilst simultaneous blocking the exit of the carriage. Eventually we make our way off the train (after a minor mishap with the train door) and we meet Steph's cousin (who speaks excellent English) and her uncle (who just flings whatever English he knows at us i.e. "Beatles! Manchester United!! Very good!") We're staying in Rzewa which is a little village about an hour outside of Krakow and the family have large plot of land with two houses and a barn built on it. After the short drive from the train station to their homestead, we are presented with a lovely dinner of home-made chicken patties, rice and salad. It is only afterwards that they inform us that they killed that chicken especially for us. On visiting the chickens in the shed later, I feel a little pang of guilt. (Or it may have been indigestion.) There are also giant bunnies flopping about the chicken shed and I fervently hope that I'm not presented with Thumper for lunch tomorrow.
An early start as we're squeezing in two excursions in one day: Oświęcim and Wieliczka. It's a two hour drive to the village of Oświęcim which is home to the Auschwitz concentration camp.
As you walk through the infamous gates that are emblazoned with the ironic slogan, "Arbeit Macht Frei" ('work to be free'), you are confronted with a surprisingly green and leafy boulevard lined with industrial concrete boxes. Although parts of the camp were destroyed after the war most of the actual blocks are still in tact and house exhibitions and tributes to all the ethnic groups that were victims of the Nazi regime. The exhibitions about life inside the camp get grimmer and grimmer as you proceed down the boulevard. One of the final exhibitions are the objects found after liberation, mountains of spectacles, briefcases, shoes, a whole wall of human hair shorn from the corpses of the inmates.
Two of the more infamous parts of the camp were destroyed shortly after liberation, Block 25 (known as 'Death Block' as it housed political prisoners who were later executed in the adjoining courtyard) and all but one crematorium/gas chamber. As you walk into the first room in the crematorium block, it seems just like an empty room with a small candlelit shrine in the middle. Then the truth then creeps up your spine and you realise that you're standing in a disused gas chamber. The crematorium is far more unsettling as the sight of the three remaining cast iron furnaces makes it abundantly clear what the purpose of this particular room was. As Auschwitz is now a tourist attraction, large tour groups are to be expected and there are signs in areas such as the gas chambers and the Execution Wall that photography isn't allowed as it is disrespectful to the masses of lives that were executed. However, schoolchildren being schoolchildren were still mooching around, smoking and being surly and enthusiastically snapping the more grotesque aspects of the camp. One boy was trying to crane his arm into a furnace as far as possible to get a shot. Rather more inappropriately, I saw a father ushering his young child to the Execution Wall for a cheery family holiday shot. Oh, there were also the handful of people that I saw camcordering their Auschwitz experience. I dread to think when the urge seizes them to dig out that particular holiday video.
A quick tour of the camp takes up two or three hours but the full tour which encompasses the nearby Birkenau (also known as 'KL Auschwitz II') takes a whole day. As you can imagine, two hours of Auschwitz is enough to drain anyone, so we decided to forego Birkenau in favour of Wieliczka and the salt mines.
I know that visiting salt mines might sound a bit educational fun but it's more like the London Dungeons, except 135m below the earth's surface. I suffer a little from mild vertigo so the thought of descending hundreds of metres below the surface didn't exactly fill me with joy. Neither did the tour guide's urging us to look down the dizzying 378 steps that we had to walk down to reach the first level of the mines. However, once we were on dry, er salt, we were greeted with the cheery sight of Nicholas Copernicus...made out of salt! The tour progresses through many more chambers all complete with impressive spectacles carved from salt. Perhaps the most impressive and most popular attraction in the mines is the St. Kinga chapel. A cavernous hall illuminated by salt chandeliers and decorated with bas-relief impressions of Biblical scenes and Da Vinci's The Last Supper (made from salt!!)
Even without the impressive St. Kinga's chapel (complete with salt altar), the Wieliczka salt mines would definately have a place in my All Time Top Five Tourist Attractions...EVER. How can I fail to adore a tourist attraction where you are encouraged to lick the walls? We had a brief chat with our lovely tour guide who informed us that a few chambers were closed off as there was a wedding party and a graduation ball taking place in the mines. Ever since then, I've resolved that if I'm ever to marry, it will be in the salt mines and my wedding cake will be decorated with a tiny salt bride and salt groom. Saltalicious!
Day six and we finally get to see Krakow, hurrah. Rather unusually, we are treated to a lie-in as Steph is whisked off on family visits. Mid-afternoon we catch a rickety country train to Kraków (and we are treated to the frankly terrifying experience of walking across rail tracks). First impressions of Kraków are far more favourable than Warsaw - it's far prettier, busier, younger and less industrial than the capital city.
We stroll through the pretty market square and visit St. Mary's Basilica (which rather cheekily charges not only an admission fee but also a photography fee.) As I refused to pay the 5 zloty photography fee I'm rather lacking in photos of the beautiful wooden carved Gothic altar. I am forced to shell out for a postcard instead. Boo. It's off to Wawel Castle which has some sort of bizarre limited ticket system. As it's late afternoon, we've missed the boat on tickets for any of the apartments and rooms of the castle, so we take a stroll around the grounds which are very pretty (but I'm feeling a little castle-d out by this point so the grandeur is a lost on me.) A quick look at the Wawel Cathedral also reveals my fast-growing ennui with gothic cathedrals but my interest is piqued by the woolly mammoth bone that hangs outside the cathedral door:
Odd sight of the day:
Walking through the little park that leads up to the university, we heard a barrage of klaxons and turned around to see this peculiar sight heading towards us. After hiding in some nearby bushes lest they apprehend us, we realise that it's a marketing campaign for Polish domestos. A wise move, I think you'll agree dear readers, when I tell you that moments later, a couple on a bench were interrupted by two of the men in bacteria suits.
We wait by the Dragon's Cave (sounds more impressive than it actually is. It's a little turret that leads down to the Wawel Dragon. Sadly also less impressive than it actually is) for Ewa's friend who is joining us for a drink. However, more pressing matters arise, namely our lack of accommodation for Bratislava and Budapest so a quick session in an Internet cafe becomes an hour and a half long trawl through hostel websites. I give up after an hour and resort to sending out emails and blogging instead. Finally, we secure rooms for our 'B' cities and we are led off to the Jewish district of the city, Kazimierz. By night, Kazimierz resembles east London, lots of little bars and restaurants line the streets, students and young hipsters in emo-glasses spill out onto the streets, beers in hand. We find a little ill-lit bar which is clearly rather trendy, yet a round is a bargainious £5. However, disaster strikes and our pleasant evening is cut short as we realise that we haven't left enough time to get to the station to catch the last train home. This results in a group of panicked girls running across the misty rain-soaked streets of Krakow. Throughout this 20 minute run, I repeatedly curse my choice of umbrella for the day, a full-sized, old-fashioned black number. Luckily we make it on the train with three minutes to spare and we collapse gratefully on the worn seats, red-faced and wheezing as we speed off into the damp night.
Day seven dawns and we have another full day in Krakow to look forward to. However, even before we step foot out of the house, we have a mini-crisis. On entering the dining room, we are presented with three plates of quivering jelly. On closer inspection, there are diced carrots languishing on the bottom of the jelly, while a cloud of shredded chicken floats at the top. After exchanging panicked looks, we sit down and tentatively try this latest culinary surprise. Steph fishes out a chunk of carrot and I carve a sliver of chicken and jelly and we make 'down the hatch' faces at each other. My first thought is "OhmygodI'mgoingtobesick" followed by, "Oh my god, I feed my cat this?!" Luckily, Ewa understands our plight (she's no fan of the chicken and carrot jelly either) and the jelly is quickly whipped away and replaced with the far safer option of bread and cold cuts. We decide to catch an earlier train in an effort to secure tickets for the attractions at Wawel Castle but our cunning plan is thwarted when our train is cancelled. Disaster! This results in us waiting on the freezing cold and torrentially wet platform at Rzewa station for an hour. After fifteen minutes, I can't bear the cold anymore and I reluctantly unfold my Kag In A Bag. Boredom strikes another fifteen minutes later and after espying some giant snails that have been lured out by the promise of rain, I decide to document the life of a Polish snail:
Luckily for us (and doubtless for you too dear readers), the second train arrives as scheduled and I spend the hour-long journey sleeping. When we do finally arrive in Krakow, we're lured into a nearby cafe with it's seductive promises of hot beverages. A large cup of lemon tea later (as is customary in Poland, tea is not taken with milk (or 'mleko') but rather a slice of lemon and sugar), we're ready to climb up the hill to Wawel Castle. Again. Even though it's 11am, there are only tickets for the State Apartments left and we have an hour before our allotted entrance time. So, it's back to the cathedral to kill some time and we get tickets for the crypts and the bell tower. The rickety staircases that wind their way up the bell tower are incredibly narrow and combined with the large crowds, do nothing whatsoever for my vertigo. On my way down (where I can't help but look down) my halting steps and general slowness ensure that quite a crowd builds up behind me. The Italian man who is directly behind me tries to comfort me with some kind words but this only serves to compound my embarassment. The top of the bell tower boasts a pretty view of the city and hoards of tourists swarm around the huge bell (you're meant to touch it and make a wish. Mine was "Please God, let me make it down alive and I'll never make snarky remarks about Gothic cathedrals again.") My trip to the crypts was cut a little short as Steph had a claustrophobia attack (phobia-mania!) and I accompanied her outside where we observed a nun sending a text message and then tucking her phone back into her habit.
The State Apartments aren't as impressive or ornate as the ones in Warsaw Royal Castle or Wilanow but they do boast walls covered in leather. Also, very strict, hawk-eyed attendants who follow you around and intimidated me into not taking any photos. The exterior of the apartments is much more impressive however, lots of little archways and vines, all very Shakespearian and we attempt to act out the Romeo & Juliet balcony scene but a sharp look from an attendant cuts short out performance. After that, it's time for a quick dinner and a stroll around the city to see it by night before catching an early train home (the ghost of the previous night still looming over us).
Day eight sees our last day in Krakow and as Ewa is at work today, we have the morning to ourselves. We catch a train into Krakow and plan out a day of shopping and a tour of the Jewish district. We manage to buy some gifts for Ewa and her family to thank them for their hospitality before the heavens open again. Not even the combined power of the Kag In A Bag and an umbrella keep me anywhere near dry. After taking shelter in a souvenier shop for 20 minutes, we decide that we're too tired and wet to traipse about the city in search of the Jewish district. We leave to catch an early-afternoon train and arrive home to a large homemade lunch of tomato soup, breaded pork and dill mash and chocolate walnut cake. Feeling a little happier and drier, we head back to our rooms and pack. Steph is whisked off on another round of family visits (Uncles Tomek, Stashek, Pieotrek and the amusingly named Bolek, which never fails to amuse us.) We're all ready for bed at 12am and settle in for five hours of sleep.
I wake up feeling as though I've only slept for two hours and my stomach is definately not ready for the huge roast beef sandwich that is waiting for me in the dining room. I manage to hide most of my remains underneath my napkin but I don't escape that easily. Barbara has prepared a veritable mountain of sandwiches for our imminent train journey and we haul the food and our luggage into the car just as the sun is rising.
I need to sleep and then study yr entry in more detail, but I have to say (a) it's one of my life's ambitions to see someone take a ferret for a walk and (b) did you lick the salt walls? Is that hygienic? At risk of sounding stupid, what did they taste like?