Kinga drove Mamo and me to Jabłonka early Saturday morning to catch the bus as it came form Chyżne. We went straight from there to Nowy Targ where we picked up most of the rest of the group — probably 40 in all. From Nowy Targ we went to Nidzica (the little town that has the castle Chhavi, Charles, and I visited that afternoon) and crossed the boarder into Slovakia there, though we didn’t actually stop at the castle. (I didn’t realize how close it was from the castle — looking out across the dam, we were literally looking into Slovakia.) Once in Slovakia we stopped at the Mountain of Three Crowns, below which is a rather large abbey. We took a tour of it before heading to a castle that in some ways dwarfed the one in Nidzica, spending about two hours there. Finally we headed to a small town in Slovakia (the name of which escapes me — I’ll have to talk to Mamo and fill in the details later). We went to a museum of Easter Orthodox icons (doesn’t that sound fun), then took a lunch break, walking around the town for a bit afterward before we left.
We stayed the night in Krynica, home of Kryniczanka Mineral Water, which I’ve bought several times. The whole town seems to be built around the mineral water there and it’s “curative powers.” You can go to a huge, 70’s-communist-design building and buy various varieties of mineral water, each with its own chemical composition (i.e., cations and anions) and each with its own special curative power.
The building itself — the “water bar” as it’s essentially called — was a wonder, though. Sunday morning, when we took a walking tour of the city, I didn’t take any pictures of it (I consciously and purposefully left my cameras in the hotel room — I’m not sure why, but I think it was simply that I was tired of taking pictures), and words fail me in trying to explain how utterly cheesy the architecture of the place was. It was basically a long building with an entirely glass front and glass back, with a small garden inside. What made it so awful, though, was the “trim” so to speak. I’m not going to try to explain it all, but take something from the Brady Bunch and mix it with any of the Stalinist architecture of Warszawa and you’ve got the “water bar,” as it’s called.
Once we finally left Krynica, we drove to an old wooden church outside the town. Mass was finishing up and so we all waited outside for everyone to leave. I walked around taking pictures, including a few of the parishioners as they came out of the church.
When we finally entered the gated area and made our way to the door, the leader of the group told me not to “do pictures” inside.
At that point I had my huge Canon out, so I put it away and said, “Okay.” But I thought, “This is too good to pass up — forbidden pictures?!” so I took out my digital and took a few pictures of the place before heading into the church, holding it roughly it waste level, taking pictures all the time of course. Once inside, one of the altar boys saw me, and being the bright chap that he was, came over to me and said, in Polish of course, “Put the camera away or leave.” Looking at him, I turned it off as he spoke, then showed him that it wasn’t even on. He insisted once again, and I complied, thinking the whole thing was a little amusing. Finally I left the church, and as I stood outside he came out and told me to open the camera and give him the film. I showed him the camera and said if he could find the film he could have it.
Anyway, he realized there was no film and simply said, “You were asked not to take any pictures, but you did anyway. Please leave,” pointing to the gate. In other words, don’t just exit the church, but leave the premises entirely. I smiled and said, “Fine.” Once I got on the bus I was sure that the leader of the tour was going to say something to me, but nothing happened.
What an asshole I was, I admit, but I was feeling a little frisky and rebellious. The whole idea of being forbidden to take pictures was just too much for me to resist, though. I can understand someone not wanting flash pictures to be taken, but pictures in general? It was an effort, I suppose, to uphold the sanctity of the place, and I just couldn’t let something like that stand unchallenged. The immature atheist in me said, “Let’s take a chance and tweak these people’s delusions of holiness and sacredness.” It would have been really fun if I could have said something like, “Oh, I talked to God and he said he didn’t mind.” And of course really juvenile.
I’m not quite sure why I felt like trampling on these people’s beliefs. Part of me says, “No harm done,” but it’s that kind of attitude that can lead to the anger that eventually consumes someone, as evidenced last month. Sacredness is really not something to be treated lightly, I suppose.
After that we went to an outdoor museum in Nowy Sącz and spent over two hours there. It was certainly interesting, but not worth two hours. Still, I got a couple of really good pictures of an old bucket, as well as some nice shots of an old journal with spectacles on it.
When we finished there, we went to Stare Sącz. Mamo and I visited her sister there while the rest of the group went to get lunch. We were supposed to meet at four and head to yet another abbey, but when Mamo and I made it back to the bus no one was there, and after a few moments we saw everyone returning. I guess the abbey wasn’t open — mercifully.
We finally made it back to Jabłonka where we were going to try to catch a lift back to Lipnica, but fortunately there was a bus at 7:20 so that wasn’t necessary.