Cracow, Poland

I, at first, thought the train from Cracow to Warsaw would be another fleet of circumstances travelers just experience.  I had dreams of sitting next to five Eastern Europeans refusing to open the window and bathrooms discharging themselves on to the track. In the very early morning I told Derrick, Amber, Hayden, Samuel, and Amelia goodbye to continue burning my trail. After derrick had dropped me off at the station, I walked to the railway to await my train.  When boarded, much to my amazement, I discovered the train I was riding didn't have those stuffy individual rooms that sat six people.  The wagon was spacious front to back with seats giving gracious amounts of leg room.  Above the front entranceway hung a digital screen giving helpful information on current location, temperature, and remaining time to Cracow. There were also air conditioning and very clean bathrooms. I rode comfortably reading letters and watching the Polish lanscape float by picturesquely.  In front of my seat a man had been studying me for sometime before he candidly asked if I was a geologist. I told him, "Excuse me?"  He repeated himself and I answered I was not a geologist.  Later he told me I had a geologist's likeness in the way I dressed.  I enjoyed his assumption, it was better than being labeled totally tourist.  He ended up being the real geologist on the train, and a Polish graduate student studying in Denmark.  Through our talk with he using superb English we got on the subject of my going to Norway. Norway is a geologist's romantic novel it seems. He gave me with great enthusiasim places to visit and things to do while there. He said Oslo the city is great, but the natural wonders of the northern country are far more worth seeing.  From fjords to glaciers and biking down mountains to camping I relished his advice. Currently i've made open two extra days of visit to the unparalled land of Norway.  

I scheduled myself one night in Cracow before I headed to a different country.  I wanted a little more Poland before I had to leave.   As soon as the train arrived I immediatly reserved my ticket to Prague for the next night.  Having my train reservation confirmed I set out to find the hostel I had booked.  

Cracow the city has a true town center which all roads circumscribe.  The city is blessed for being spared by the allied and axis bombs.  The streets still branch off in a swirling fashion crawling away from the center instead of in a grid-like pattern.  It was this swirling which confused me in the beginning.  I literally walked round and round the center not ever progressing towards where I wanted to go but staying in the center's orbit like a sattelite with a giant backpack attatched.

To be honest I feel like a turtle when I walk with my backpack. It's my shell where I keep everything I need and brought to Europe. Appropriatly enough it's even green like some turtle's shells.  

My room was reserved at Mama's Hostel in the center of everything. It's a great hostel I recommend to anyone. I now compare my hostels to Mama's social atmosphere. Perched on a building's third story floor inside the center of Cracow, the hostel Mama's is host to an eclectic group of travelers. From China to Korea, Australia and the Ukraine, Mama's is a melting pot of young people around the world. 

But then again all my hostels have been a traveler's cassarole.   

Anyway,

In Cracow I had a list of things I knew I had to see. Oscar Schindler's factory is in Cracow. Auschwitz is near the city. There is a castle, and also a church where in its bell tower a trumpeter plays a song to announce the top of the hour.  I have taken videos of these things in Europe. 

The tune - or song, melody, jingle - to my knowledge is called the "Hey Now," and it's been played atop St. Mary's Church since the dark ages. The story told to me occured sometime in the medieval period, where an invading army laid seige on Cracow. The trumpeter keeping to his duties sounded his song to announce the hour and was hit by an arrow mid-play. To this day the trumpeter stops playing his tune on the exact last note blown by the unfortunate medieval trumpeter. 

When booking the tour of Auschwitz at the hostel, I met two people I later befriended. Natalie was an Oregon born Peace Corp volunter teaching English in the Ukraine, and then Dove was Australia born and teaching English in Warsaw.  Natalie was also going to Auschwitz the following morning, so we had decided to make sure eachother was up early in the morning.  

We had no trouble getting to the bus the next morning. We had time to buy water and sandwhiches for the one hour trip.  I didn't feel like i was on a bus going to a death camp.  I had my snack and new friend to talk with on the way.  Then they played a forty five minute film telling the story of the soviet soldier who had filmed the liberation of Auschwitz.  

I don't feel my explanation of what I saw at the concentration camps would be appropriate.  In making this trip of mine I made sure I was visiting the largest and most atrocious World War II concentration camp. I didn't choose to do so based on enjoyment as I have with the other 90% of this trip.  I chose to visit in order to see the dark side of the not so distant past.  I can only recommend that you visit Auschwitz for yourself. 

On a much lighter note and probably in bad taste, I saw a pizza shop across the parking lot of the camp-now-turned-museum. I thought to myself, "What a place to do business and nevertheless sell pizza and beer from across the street of Auschwitz.  I don't think I'll go there."  But then again I'm not totally surprised since i've seen the department store Dillards across the street from The Alamo.  I would like to impose a commercial demilitarized zone that surrounds any solemn historical ground as little as The Alamo and as major as Auschwitz.  

In no time back Natalie and I were back in the unique and wonderful Cracow.  We joined with Dove and walked the streets in search of some food. At first we bounced from wall to wall of the city with no plans. We eventually decided to see the Jewish quarter of Cracow and find food there.

I recieved a lesson in slavic languages from Natalie who knew Ukranian and a little Russian and with Dove who had a polite and basic understanding of Polish.  We laughed at the essential Polish phrases pamphlet handed out at Mama's.  According to the pamphlet, one phrase essential to basic Polish dialogue is, "May I touch your bottom?"

We eventually found a restuarant inside the Jewish Quarter and were able to enjoy Polish dumplings. The dumplings come out stuffed full with whatever you decided and soaked in oil. I imagine with the oils and dough that perogi could be considered a heavy food. 

Having been stuffed with perogi I knew of an old Jewish cemetary I wanted to see. The oils helped me remember it was there they had used smashed headstones as masonry in the surrounding walls.  The Nazis destroyed the old cemetary in the occupation.  Before I could enter I was instructed to "cover my head." I, out of respect, was made to wear my first kippah.  Jewish cemeterys are unique to those I'm used to seeing. The graves are old, massive, and very close together. Instead of flowers in front of the graves they had rocks perched on top of the headstones. Rocks on the grave is their way of rememberence, and like at the Prayer Wall in Jerusalem I saw little handwritten notes stuck in cracks of the headstones. Who knows how old they were.

It was getting close for me to get in my reserved bed on the night train to Prague.  After some more city bouncing, the group I was with paraded into the basement of an old building housing a hookah bar. The walls in this place were made of stone connected by brick and morter arched doorways. The rooms for relaxing had low arch ceilings and large comfortable pillows covering a soft endless couch. The air was filled with world music and sweet smelling sheesha.  We were served sheesha in a giant hookah as the night for me began to end in Poland.  Natalie, Dove, and I talked for three or more hours. In our talk we chuckled over life's situations and gawked at our own. There's freedom of expression amongst travelers, and you can't get better than that. 

The night took over as I walked from the square to the train station. Moving through my trip I knew it was time to meet new people and see new things. I did appreciate my stay in Cracow.  The great city not many know, in the Land of the Poles.