matching tracksuits

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The village where I spent seven years of my life.

K held the camera as we drove to visit friends. Silly, but I’m sentimental, so it’s excusable. (It’s double-time so it doesn’t take so long, but of course it makes us all sound like chipmunks in the background. It also makes it jerky. Oh well…)

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We finally began putting together some of the video shot in Polska. First up: our day at Gubalowka, a ridge line above Zakopane that is basically one big playground. We took K’s five-and-a-half-year-old nephew, W, with us.

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There’s a new video blog at the New York Times called the Frugal Traveler. Week 10 is a visit to Gdansk Poland.

Why Gdansk? Why not Krakow? Unlike both Gdansk and Warsaw, Krakow was not totally destroyed during the Second World War, and its old town is just that — old. Perhaps the choice of Gdansk came from week 9’s spot: Vilnius, Lithuania. It’s a shorter hop from Vilnius to Gdansk than Vilnius to Krakow.

Still, it’s good to see Poland getting included like this.

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Aunt L is visiting, so we took her to the park downtown.

Downtown Greenville

It was surprisingly empty for a Sunday afternoon. There were small groups here and there, but I guess the heat was keeping most people in.

The Girl had a blast, especially with the ducks. They bonded, and it was a tearful goodbye.

Waving bye-bye — for the fourth time.

She’s learned what ducks say, and she was thrilled to get independent confirmation that what K and I told her about duck communication was accurate.

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The morning summer sun is actually merciful here — thanks, in part, to the forest we have in the backyard.

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We got a bit of new music during our trip and I’ll be sharing a little here and there during the coming weeks. Sadly, much of it probably won’t be available in the States.

Once upon a time, there was a Polish folk band called “A Wista.” Comprised of highland students who’d landed in Krakow for studies, the band played a mix Slovakian, Moravian, Balkan, and Hungarian songs, along with traditional Polish songs from the southern, mountainous region of the country.

Their studies long completed, they’ve since gone their separate ways, though K and I have a connection to three of the band members.

• One is the husband of K’s good, better, bestest friend.
• Another, with a newly formed band, played at our wedding.
• A third, with K’s friend’s husband and two others, played at L’s baptism.

It’s a shame they’re no longer together, for their music is truly beautiful: virtuoso playing (violin, viola, and double bass) combined with strong singing.

Here is my favorite from their CD Festiwal Karpat: a haunting Slovakian number:

Czom ty ne priszol

Anyone interested can buy individual MP3s of the album here.

For fun, here’s the Google translation of the page. The genre in the original Polish is listed as “Ludowa” (”folk”), but Google chose the equally valid translation of “China”.

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Krakow is full of them.

Some less neglected than others.

In fact, there are narrow streets throughout all of Poland. Indeed, all of Europe. That’s what happens when cities exist for centuries before the invention of the car.

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We made it home yesterday after an exhausting journey. L fell into fits of hysterical screaming on the flight from Munich to Charlotte, and there was mumbling about the plane regarding it — as well as a few comments swirling around our heads while we stood in the passport control line. The temptation to say something was great, but I decided to keep it a win-lose situation (i.e., we win, acting like adults; they lose, acting like children) instead of descending into a useless argument, for there was no win-win situation in sight as tired as we all were.

The trip was exhausting, but we had wonderful memories to keep up our spirits, including two days in the most magnificant (and second most expensive) city in Polska, Krakow.

Florianska Street

K and L at the Florianska Gate

The first thing we noticed, coming by bus, was the new shopping center cum bus stop. When we left in 2005, it looked like this:

Three years — and a surprising amount of initiative — later:

The old bus station was a testament to the hideous nature of Communist architecture, and it was torn down before I even knew it had been slated for demolition. “Oh, what I wouldn’t give for a couple of hours in that old place now,” I told K.

Also victim of the renovation was the “Dragon Bar” (”Bar Smok”), a milk bar across the street from the old bus station. Filthy does not begin to describe it, and once again, I find myself wishing for a 4gb memory card and a day to photograph it.

As we made our way to the rynek, we noted that some things had mercifully not changed. The opera house still greets visitors after they emerge from the passage under Westerplatte Street.

Opera House

And the corner of Pijarska and Planty streets still looks the same:

We finally made it to the rynek, where L seemed just as amazed as everyone else is they first time they emerge from Florianska Street onto Krakow’s enormous square:

We fed the pigeons,

had a latte,

and watched the people around us. Some were trying to get the best shots with classic Russian equipment:

Zenit — my first real camera

Some were simply passing through:

Two to a bag — classic Krakow style

After a short break, we headed inside the Basilica of St. Mary — what I’d bought the 10-20mm for:

I’d brought a tripod in order to try to get some shots to combine into HDR, but I was kindly informed during my final shot of my first series that tripods were not allowed.

I’m always amazed with the beauty of such places.

And I’m glad the Church so wisely followed Jesus’ command to feed the starving, clothe the poor, and build ridiculously big churches.

We headed down Grodzka Street toward Wawel castle

East Central meets West, Old meets New

Finally, exhausted, we fell into a cafe for some rest, respite from the sun (L was fussy and sweaty), and, most importantly, a chance to meet up with some of our dearest friends, Kuba and Maja:

K & M standing at Kuba’s street in Krakow

We spent our last New Year’s Eve in Polska with K & M in Hel, a little port town at the tip of a long finger of land into the Baltic Sea.

Wojek Kuba takes a picture

Maja — the “maja” of comments here — has been eager to meet the girl for some time, and they hit it off immediately:

Ciocia Maja entertains

Later, at Wawel

The initial excitement of our reunion finally calmed (M was bouncing off the walls with joy!), we all continued down Grodzka Street

to Wawel, the royal castle

Finally, the Girl had had enough, and so we headed out of Krakow

Why are there so few streets this lovely in the States?

to a little town on the city’s outskirts, where K’s brother, D, lives.

We had grilled sausage to accompany a wonderful evening of reminiscing and talking about the “realities” of life in America.

K ponders whether or not that grill is really made out of what he thinks it’s made out of. Any ideas?

When D saw the wonders of a SLR camera’s bulb setting, he took me to a place to get some night shots of Krakow.

Sadly, there was too much light from the street lights to get good shots, but that fact did lead to this:

Thus ended our first day in Krakow.

Our second day was much slower and shorter. It included a walk in the park surrounding the old town,

and K taking a few more shots.

It ended in the old Jewish section of town, at an outside cafe, where still more friends came to meet us.

And thus our not-quite-two weeks in Polska came to an end.

More reflections — not to mention pictures — later.

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