Advertisement
Published: July 21st 2006
Auschwitz
This quote was at the entrance to the museum. The whole day was emotionally and physically draining. I certainly wont forget it in a hurry.World Cup fever was rampant by the time I hit Poland. Fellow travelers had come from Germany, others were going there. In hostel circles you could be guaranteed to have at least one backpacker from the country that was playing (except maybe Guana) to make things even more interesting. The atmosphere was incredible, further fuelled by the sweltering heat. Complete strangers became best mates or enemies over a game of football. Whilst in Poland and Czech I watched football every night it was on. Bars were decorated with team flags, sometimes entire tables were reserved in front of the big screen and the better hostels had their own screen set up. Football and beer go hand-in-hand, so I was forced to throw myself headlong into this once-every-four-years celebration. Before now, Id struggle to name more than two Socceroos, now I was hoping to track down a much sought after 'I love Guus' t-shirt and passionately discussed the cons of Ericsson taking over the Aussie coaching role. Though certainly the most animated of discussion was about which world cuppers would make the cut for the 'ugly' team (one guess who's captain!). Now was the time to be in Europe.
I had
Warsaw Old Town Square
Unesco world heritage listed, the old town square was all rebuilt after WW2 when it was completely levelled. not looked forward to leaving Vilnius on the overnight bus to Warsaw. Especially after the American idiot from our hostel got strangled for cash in the area at night. But as it turns out three lads from my hostel were booked on the same bus, so I wasn't on my own. Mark and Chuckles from the UK and Conor from Ireland, had been teaching English in Korea and had come across from Beijing on the Trans-Mongolian a month or so after me. In the end we had to run for the bus forcing us to share deep-vein-thrombosis-inducing seats whilst all the other passengers had two seats each. Once the lady in front of me reclined her chair, there was no room for my legs, meaning Conor had to stick his legs out into the isle and take the risk that I'd dribble on his shoulder in my sleep. There was no need to worry though, the long trip on roads like corrugated iron was punctuated by multiple disturbances making sleep impossible.
First the guy sitting behind Conor kept kicking his seat forward and words were exchanged as other passengers craned their necks to see and hear what was going
Pope JP
There is no doubt Poland is still reeling from JP's passing. There are statues like this everywhere. on. Ireland won, but I was sure the Polish guy behind was going to knife us during the night. Then there was border control, followed by appalling disco music at 4.30am that refused to be drowned out by my I-pod. This was all in addition to possibly the worst bus driver in the world who couldn't find third gear or the bus stop on arrival in Warsaw. We drove around for at least half an hour looking for the bus stop, while upset Polish passengers yelled instructions at him.
Finally off the bus, the boys looked to me 'where are we staying?'. Word on the street was that Nathan's Villa Hostel was the cream of the Warsaw hostel offerings so I'd already made a booking. We arrived tired, smelly and hungry and boy did this hostel have some interesting characters! Jeremy the St Kilda DJ tosser who dealt out unsolicited advice by the handful, was loud, obnoxious, had several wardrobe changes every day and thought he was king of the hostel. Then there was Kev, the nice-guy mathematics genius from New York who had been recruited by the NSA at 19 and was in Poland for a mathematics convention.
Palace of Culture and Science, Warsaw
A monstrosity from the Soviet days. I reckon it looks a little like the Empire State Building. A night out on the town with us dealt a severe battering to his IQ!
Warsaw was full of contradictions. Take one look around and you can see the place is devoutly Catholic. There are statues of Pope John Paul everywhere with candles and flowers left beneath to honour his passing and nuns on practically every street corner. Yet the footpath and windscreens of parked cars are littered with cards offering a full range of explicit services, complete with pictures of naked, busty women.
Poland has suffered a brutal history in the last 100 odd years, so its no wonder the people look like they have the weight of the world on their shoulders. According to my trusty LP, over half óf Warsaw's population died during WW2 and 85% of Warsaw's buildings were damaged or destroyed. The history cannot easily be escaped, you are reminded of it walking through the Jewish Ghetto area or looking up at Stalin's monstrosity - the Palace of Culture and Science. It seemed a lot less people speak English than in the Baltics here and poverty is still evident. The people themselves are certainly a strange lot. In shops they refuse to let
Another train, another country...
The boys and I take the slow (6 hour) train from Warsaw to Krakow. The heat was stiffling and the cabin stank courtesy of the kebabs we ate the night before. you give them money, forcing you to deposit it in the little change tray provided. There's no chance they'll hand you your change either, if will be left in the very same little tray - with a receipt and a reluctant grimace from the shop assistant (if you are lucky!).
Warsaw was the biggest city I'd been to for a few weeks and I found the tall buildings, the endless stretches of concrete footpaths and the traffic claustrophobic. The old town centre was a fair hike from the hostel - but was worth it. Another UNESCO World heritage listed old town, but what makes it impressive is that it has been rebuilt to look exactly the same as it was before it was practically leveled in WW2. The day we were there weddings were going on everywhere, we were even given a bonbonniere each with a message in Polish from one bride and groom.
I'd insisted that we hotfoot it to Krakow in time for the Australia V Italy game. Our train ticket to Krakow was cheap, but not very cheerful. It meant that the journey took six long hours, instead of the standard two and a half,
Auschwitz
The sun was beating down - it was at least 35 degrees. I've always imagined concentration camps to hvae cold, wet, even snowy conditions. The summer would have been just as brutal. in a stifling, sweaty train cabin which had the unmistakable odor of kebabs we had eaten the night before. It was great having traveling companions, even if they did call me crazy nicknames, mimic my accent and quiz me about Neighbours, but travelling as a group of four everything takes longer. Where to eat, where to stay, all have to be discussed. So that's how on arrival at Krakow, we ended up at another Nathan's Villa Hostel, despite train station hotel touts trying to get us to stay at their hotels and hostels for very cheap prices.
It turned out to be a good decision. We arrived at the hostel with 40 minutes to spare, time enough for a shower and to get a seat in the downstairs bar for the big game. Everyone agreed that the result of the match was completely devastating. The resident Aussie layabout fired up a BBQ on the deck and we ate drank and chilled out. I even competed in a hard fought table tennis match with the BBQ chef which nearly ended in tears when I narrowly missed steeping on someone's chiwawa and broke my thong (read flip flops/jandals for you non-Aussies!).
Birkenau (Auschwitz 2)
These living quarters were originally designed as stables for horses. I awoke next morning with Chuckles shaking me. Time to catch the early morning bus to Auschwitz. I know it's completely inappropriate to complain, but Auschwitz in blistering heat, with empty stomach and world cup loss to boot was less than pleasant. I'd always pictured concentration camps as dark, bitterly cold and wet places - but having been there in the heat I could appreciate just how horrible the seasonal extremities would have been. The Auschwitz-Birkenau (Auchwitz 2) museum is compelling, shocking and deeply upsetting. The genocide of over 2 million European Jews took place here during WW2. I will never forget walking from outside sunshine, having casually walked along with our guide, to enter a room with a massive glass cabinet that was filled with human hair. Or the shoes - thousands of shoes - adults and childrens and glasses, babies clothes and carefully labeled luggage which they were told would be delivered to their rooms after their 'shower'. The ruse to get people into the gas chambers was cruelly rehearsed and the owners of this clothing and personal belongings were quickly exterminated. The boys and I discussed how easy a ruse it would have been - put
Krakow Farewell
Mark, me, Chuckles and Conor have one last farewell beer before parting ways. Mark and Chuckles left for Germany, Conor to Prague and me to Olomouc. anyone on a cramped train for hours (or days) and the first thing they will want on arrival is a shower. For me, the most overwhelming feeling was entering the gas chambers, located only a hundred metres from the Camp Commander - Rudolf Hoess' house. Despite it being hot there was a nasty chill in the air and I immediately felt sick. While some people took photos or went to the incinerators for a closer inspection, I went and waited outside. It was too much.
It had been a long day at the museum - an entire day. By the time we returned to Krakow we were starving hungry. It was also the last night the gang would be together before parting ways, so we ended the day with a massive Maccas feast and a walk around the old town. Krakow really is a stunning city - the 'new Prague'. So they say. You can see why. Surrounded by green parks and with a massive town square filled with pigeons and street performers it really is beautiful. My time there was far too short, but gave me a taste. On my last morning I did a quick visit to
Chilling out in an Olomouc Teahouse
Drank several cups of chai and did many rounds of apple flavoured tobacco in this she-sha. Felt more like Turkey, than Czech! Wawel Hill to see the castle and old cathedral. Then it was time to farewell the boys (with a promise to hook up some cameos on Neighbours should they visit Oz) for Olomouc with a resolute plan to detox.
The Poets Corner Hostel in Olomouc was truly a home away from home. I arrived after a long day of train travel (where I shared my cabin with a smelly dog in a carry bag) and was greeted by the friendly Aussie owners - Francie and Greg. There was something very familiar and charming about the two of them. I'd decided to scratch Prague from my itinerary (having been there before) and go somewhere different. Olomouc didn't rate a mention in the Eastern Europe Lonely Planet which was a big plus. The hostel was small, intimate and like living in someone's home. Greg told me that all intrepid backpackers will one day either write a book or open a hostel and that's how he ended up in Olomouc, opening the hostel several years ago.
A university town, Olomouc was all cobbled streets, fountains and cathedrals - open air bars, cafes and a spattering of middle eastern tea houses. I
Eltham and Shire Reunion, Cesky Krumlov
Soph O'Meara and boyfriend Leigh Orton, Sarah MacWilliams and me. Soph went to the same school as me back home and is related to me by marriage (she is my auntie Joan's niece). Sarah was my cousin's neighbour in Greensborough. only had a day, but passed my time there wandering the streets and chilling in one of the tea houses with an apple tobacco she-sha and chai. At the hostel, a Korean/American guy Nata had approached me - 'You're Ellen from Australia?'. Turns out he'd shared a cabin with Conor on the train who told him I'd be there. Nada, Anne another Melbournian and I had a traditional dinner of local Moravian food and Nata introduced us to his new uni student friends - one cool and one very drunken local.
From Olomouc I caught the train to Cesky Krumlov with Nata on a group discount (2 people qualify as a group!). Our carriage was filled with a bunch of drunken giants who wandered up and down the carriage creating a ruckus. Another bus later and we had arrived at Cesky Krumlov in time for our daily football fix. I spotted a gap on the couch in the football room at the hostel and asked the girl sitting there whether it was free. She recognized me (far more quickly than I her), it was Sophie O'Meara (sorry Soph)! Soph and I went to the same school in Melbourne (she's
The Oarsome Foursome
Steve, me, Soph and Leigh before conquering the Vltava River. a bunch of years below me) and her aunt married my uncle, so we're related by marriage. She was traveling around Europe for the summer with her boyfriend Leigh, also an Eltham boy. It seems that Cesky was the place for chance meetings, the following night I bumped into Sarah MacWilliams who used to be my cousins neighbour back in Greensborough. Bizarre!
Hostel 99 was a wacky, but fantastic hostel. Wacky due to the guy who runs it - the Brazilian eccentric Zazu. Fantastic due to its bar and restaurant with cheap food in big serves, its stunning location above the Vltava River, its large timber rooms, the hostel dog 'Boogey' and semi-spontaneous sing-a-longs featuring Gavin, a musically talented Scottish ex-flight deck controller. In retrospect, due to Zazu's utter disorganisation it was probably not the best place to get my replacement ATM card send. Not surprisingly it didn't show.
The highlight of Cesky was without a doubt, our white water rafting adventure. After a group of people from Busabout had fallen foul to rainy, cold and treacherous conditions the day previous we were not deterred. After all, we had all the safety precautions - no helmet, no guide,
No longer so oarsome
Soph recovers an oar after our first spill. Notice she still has her sunnies. Leigh and I weren't so lucky. several beer stops along the way, no map of the rapids... We even discussed that perhaps this other group were a pack of exaggerating whingers who must have lacked common sense etc. I have a new respect for them now!
Soph, Leigh and I had recruited Steve from Vancouver to make up the 'oarsome foursome' and the day was perfect and sunny as we set off down the river. The only instruction we received was to be back at 3.30pm. The journey began rather sedately and we got cocky - enjoying the sunshine, lush scenery and a few stops along the way. The rapids were infrequent, but substantial - most were man-made and unpredictable. Up until lunchtime we were laughing, after lunch was a different story. We hit a few bigger rapids and we saw a few people carry their rafts and canoes around them, but failed to get the message. We ended up tipping twice - getting carried a fair distance downstream and losing an oar, a couple of pairs of sunnies and thongs in the process. If we weren't feeling like we'd already lost enough, we returned an hour late'and were severely reprimanded by the rafting operator,
who made us pay for the lost oar. The 'oarsome foursome' weren't so awesome anymore!
I farewelled Cesky Krumlov, Soph and Leigh in true backpacker style with an improv pasta feast cooked at 2am in the morning. Then it was up at 6am to catch the train to Ljubljana, Slovenia.
Advertisement
Tot: 0.402s; Tpl: 0.024s; cc: 19; qc: 100; dbt: 0.1846s; 1; m:domysql w:travelblog (10.17.0.13); sld: 1;
; mem: 1.4mb
Neil Jenkin
non-member comment
Wow
Ellen..Your Dad has been tallking so much about your adventures..and yes I have been following your trip. What a time you are having. Memories are well described and the photos are amazing.I am envious By the way you have Phil's ability to link people to places.Czech tales shows comnnections oh so well.