Unmapped Escapades

A folk singer friend of ours tells a story about playing a series of gigs in Arizona, driving from one town to the next.  The towns were small, conservative, and boring, and as the band worked their way toward Phoenix, the big city became Eden in their minds.  On their final approach, a chant was started by one member and enthusiastically picked up by the others - “Can’t wait to get to Phoenix!  Can’t wait to get to Phoenix!”  The freeways got bigger, the traffic worse, the scenery non-existent.  As soon as they hit the city limits, their chant changed to “Can’t wait to get out of Phoenix!  Can’t wait to get out of Phoenix!”*

 Unfortunately and unexpectedly, Monica and I experienced the same emotional swing as we exited the train station in Krakow.  It wasn’t shadelessness, waterlessness, or waves of heat visible over the pavement that turned us off, but hoards, throngs, plagues of tourists.  We had been off the high-school-tour-bus track, and now we were decidedly on it.  All roads lead to Krakow.

The old town square is a place for white Brits to sunburn, red-faced Brits to guzzle pints, and drunk Brits to shout.  A place for backpacking dudes from South Africa to hit on backpacking chicks from France.  A place for well-heeled, white-clad Americans to ride in horse-drawn carriages.  A place where bar mascots dressed as frothy beer mugs dance while plumed horses with peripheral-vision blockers try to avoid trampling oblivious map readers.  A place where a guy in early-nineteenth-century duds snakes through the crowd on a bicycle with an enormous front wheel and a tiny back one, ringing a bell all the while.  It’s a madhouse, a zoo, a circus, a huge international party.  It’s as overwhelming as - dare I say it? - New Delhi without the diseased beggars.  (OK, that’s a little overboard, but I was on a roll.)  There’s even a city tour exclusively for junkies.

We quickly returned to our room to recover, nap, and decide if and when we’d go back out.  We had cut short our time in Vilnius, blown through Warsaw - arrived at 9pm and left at 8:05 the next morning.  Sorry Warsaw.  And now this.  We couldn’t even walk in Old Town.

Later it got better.  We rode the bikes through the crowds in Old Town to Wawel castle.  It was satisfying to zip around and between the weary walkers.  We found some fantastic Polish meatballs and pork-vegetable-cheese stew in a quiet restaurant.  We stopped in the main square on our way back at the edge of the throng listening to lively Romanian music at a massive stage.  Monica danced next to an enthusiastic woman in a yellow dress.  It appeared to be the 10th Crossroads music festival in Krakow, and it was fun.

Today, we went to Auschwitz.  Since I first learned about the Holocaust, I’ve thought about (dreaded?) what it must be like to stand on the grounds of this place of nightmares.  It was somber and interesting, but it wasn’t upsetting, an it’s hard to articulate why.  Maybe because pictures of emaciated, tortured and dead bodies quickly numbs the mind.  Maybe because there were no in-depth personal stories.  It’s more upsetting to read the Diary of Anne Frank or to watch Life is Beautiful, where the characters become such real people before they suffer.  Maybe it was the cattle-drive nature of being herded through cell blocks, ”hearing” rooms, gallows and torture cellars while bored-looking high schoolers with shoulders slumped and hands in their pockets yawned and over-zealous, anxious tour guides pushed us ahead to make way for their groups. 

Anyway, I’m glad we went.  I think you have to go if you’re in Krakow.  Many of the fences, buildings, crematoriums, and torture devices remain.  Other things - some gallows and the “Death Wall” for example - were reconstructed by the museum.  Be sure to get there for the short film with footage from when the Red Army liberated the camp.  Didn’t take any pictures.  Though many others were, it seemed uncomfortable and inappropriate.

I have to mention the place where we ate a late lunch after returning from Auschwitz.  It’s called Perozki U. Vincent, and it has the most wonderful pierogies I’ve ever had.  Those stuffed with spinach and drizzled with cheese sauce and the traditional Russian pielmienie are heavenly.  To find it, wander the streets near Golden Hostel away form the bus station.  Look for the green shutters painted with big, colorful flowers.

Tonight - more food, beer, take pictures.

Tomorrow - to the Polish Carpathian town of Zakopane.  Hiking?  Biking? Fewer crowds?  Let’s hope so.

Krakow pictures here.

- K and M

* Sorry to all the Phoenicians out there, including Mom, Dad, and Sis, but I’m just staying true to the story.