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Published: September 13th 2010
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Two weeks in Poland and life is good... Flying through the muddled clouds into Krakow, I picked out the lingering remnants of the communist era in the towering block apartments layering the soggy green countryside, an impression that only grew on the train ride into the city where we crawled past the dregs of crumbled industry long overtaken by a decade of weeds and graffiti. I arrived at the Krakow central train station early Wednesday morning to a biting cold rain carrying with me an anxious curiosity. First thing first. I needed a cell phone, so my initial rite of foreign travel was to do something uniquely American...visit a mall. Approximately thirty minutes and 150 Zloty later I emerged from the horrid galleria cell phone in tow, wearing my bright yellow rain jacket, hat, gloves, scarf, and two bags covered by more bright yellow rainproof material. I looked the epitome of a tourist but did not care. Dashing through some puddles to the nearest side street I began to zig zag my way through the narrow cobbled streets with a vague sense of direction and a plan to find the central square. Around my first corner I was immediately met by marching troop of Polish soldiers sliding silently though the rain in olive rain gear by a large stone monlith. This erection was capped by a medieval looking horseman paused in battle pose towering above some sort of eternal flame monument . I paused there by the flames briefly, suddenly aware of my already soaked jeans and soggy shoes, then plodded along southward towards the main square. After passing many umbrella carrying Krakowites and a row of designer shops, I arrived in the Northeast corner of the square by the St. Mary's Bascilica. I say NE, because the central square is massive. Numerous cafes lined the inner perimeter with empty patios of yellow and white umbrellas. It was not a day to be outside so I quickly strode to the SE corner to find a sweets shop suggested to me to kill some time before meeting my Couchsurfing host, Joanna. Luckily, I found the shop right across from the large horizontal bronze "chopped of head" monument we had agreed to meet at, in an hour. There, I gobbled down a delicious cafecao sundae, paid, and shook of the cold to meet Joanna. She found another traveling CSer, Juri, and I shivering in the rain and after a quick introduction lead us to the nearest retaurant for some much needed warmth and sustenance. Bellies full but still thoughroly soaked, we caught the tram to Jo's place to unpack and dry off. Jo lives in a surprisngly cool post and beam tudor style apartment on the top floor of a building overlooking a large city park. Juri and I hit the local shop below the apartment for food and beers and played some chess while Jo napped. Later that night she took us by tram to Kazamierz, the Jewish district to Alchemia a candlelit bar for some Zywiec and shots of mad dog (Vodka rapberry syrup and tobassco, shockingly good). Our group size grew, shrank and fluctuated from bar to bar and shot to shot as we foggily tread through the quaint bohmeian neighborhood. We ended the night at Zinger, and old textile factory bar with sewing machines for tables with people somehow dancing on top of them. All in all, an excellent first night. The next morning we arose at 4pm... I'm blaming it on the jetlag. With the improved weather, I set off to explore the rest of the city by foot snapping pictures of everything, sometimes stopping for a coffee or beer in one of the many sleepy little courtyard cafes. Krakow is an immensely large city, beautiful and mysterious. It's convulted streets are filled with buildings of unequivocable architectural intracacy. The prevailing colors of grey, brick red, white and yellow lather the buildings in a stark beauty giving of contrasting moods. The buildings may seem depressing or menacing on a rainy grey afternoon but oddly warm and inviting on a sunny day. The few new buildings there are however, are mixed in with the old ones, the crumbling ones, the even older ones and the ones meticulously rennovated like a giant edifice sundae. Krakow is also very much a modern city too, full of deigner shops and businesses oddly tucked into the ancient buildings and tight streets. Churches, castles, universities, parks, goevrnment buildings, palaces, and mounuments of all sizes dot the city in vast numbers so one is easily overwhelmed with where to start. I was just happy to walk the city randomly, eventually wandering to the massive Wawel castle along the river. Here I stopped to challenge some old men to a game of chess at a park. Although I tried mightly, I was content to lose 30 Zloty to my superior oponent while watching the tangerine sun set over the a distant bridge on the Vistula. The night was capped at Jo's by a movie with her friend Magda and some mint Chocolate liquer. The next day I arose, packed, and said my goodbyes to Jo with the intention of seeing her again in October. I set off into the beautiful sunny day towards the city square for the Basillica. After enduring a long line of tourists to pay several small but ambiguous entry fees, I was in. This church was by far the most unbelievable I had ever been inside. From the outside the only real distinguishing characteristics are the tall twin patina spired towers that a man trumpets music from every half hour. But once inside its a different story. Every inch of this place of worship was adorned with painting, scultpture or gold. It was a shame we could not use flash cameras because my pictures could not do it justice. I sat quietly in a pew for a long time trying to visually soak in every inch and imagine the builders and artists who precariously dangled from precipices high above hundreds of years ago. After a Zapikanka (Polish baguette and cheese thingy) and a tall Zywiec at a nearby cafe I met a large crowd for the free walking tour of the city and Jewish district. Our guide, Marcek, a fellow CSer and friend of Jo's lead a small crowd of us towards the Jewish district and the first Synagogue in Krakow. We passed by Helena Rubenstein's house on Broad St. and saw more synagogues with plaques commemorating the Jewish martyrs of WWII while Marcek spilled his knowledge. 2 hours and many history lessons later, we crossed the Vistula by bridge into Krakow's Jewish Ghetto. There in the square, we sat somberly among the silent bronze sculpted chairs dotting the stonework in silent commemoration, listening to Marcek about the atrocities suffered there not so long ago. We ended the tour at the Schindler factory where Marcek dispelled some misconceptions portrayed in Spielberg's movie about the philanthropy of the actual man himself. The unoffical tour continued with a slew of young foreigners at a local pub back on Broad street. After 2 beers I ran to catch the tram and meet my next CSing host, Asia. She led me up 9 stories of her soviet block apartment building into her place for some of her sister's homemade pizza and a much needed nap. Around 9 we left to meet an American CSer, Joe, for some beers at a live music club, the Lizard Lounge or something like that. This place was truly fantastic. Bad music and an even worse cover band made for many laughs. Finally, upon Asia's insistent pleading we trudged to some underground trance club and danced for a couple hours until we left upon the pleading of Joe. Two zapiknkas each later at a local kebab stand and we parted ways to hit the sack. I awoke groggily the next morning ready for some much needed solitude at the farm in Kozy. I ran the bus station, purchased a ticket from a driver and dozed off as we left the morning dusk of the city for the rolling Polish countryside...
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