Postcards from... Munich

Friday, 9th December, 2011. All that stood between me and my long-awaited Christmas market trip to Munich were three Kindy classes. What could possibly go wrong?

Everything as it happens. I'd accidentally left my Kindy songs CD in the house. No CD = no singing, and I needed the CD to drown out my tuneless warbling! Then I made a kid cry and his grandmother complained. She went quiet when I showed her (and several other nosey parents) the worksheet little Mikołaj had just defaced. Thankfully the brat that is Maja decided to behave (after a fashion anyway) so my second class was fairly painless. I had a new and VERY chatty child, Nikodem, in my final class. In just one lesson, he managed to take over from Karol and become the new class clown. Karol, realising that his crown had been stolen, played up even more. Unfortunately I couldn't complain to Nikodem's mother because she's one of my students! And I didn't want to complain to Karol's father because he's really rather attractive! (How wrong is that?! Ha ha!). Anyway, in all the furore I forgot to give out the gingerbread to the kids, so I took it up to the teachers' room and enlisted several staff to help me eat the evidence! (Gingerbread? What gingerbread?!).

Mission accomplished, it was time to head to the train station. My half-hour wait in temperatures of barely 1°C (34°F) turned into an almost hour-long wait, by which time I was freezing and thoroughly fed up. I arrived in Katowice at 21:20 and realised that I had no idea how to get to the airport. Oh and I also only had 70zł (approx. £12/€17/US$19) on me. Thankfully I located a bank machine and drew out a further 200zł (£35/€48/US$54). I decided that it was worth paying for a taxi. But it hadn't occurred to me how much a taxi might be. And when we had been driving for 30 minutes and the meter said 185zł (£32/€44/US$50) I was getting concerned. I swear the bloody guy saw me coming. He was driving on empty roads at around 30 miles per hour. When we finally reached the hotel the meter said 225zł (£40/€54/US$61). I paid him through gritted teeth. If the journey had taken any longer I wouldn't have been able to cover the bill. Thankfully the hotel was nice with in-room tea-making facilities and free WIFI...

*****

The next morning I got up at 04:15 (blurgh!) and got the 04:45 free shuttle to the airport. Everything went pretty smoothly... until I got on the plane that is. A huge man with rancid breath flopped into the seat next to me and then leaned sideways till his face was almost touching mine! Seriously, WTF?! He kept shifting around and I even got elbowed in the face! TWICE! He then pissed the air hostess off by waving his arms around and saying "Me, me" when they were handing out free papers. The air hostess said icily, "There's no need to make a fuss, I'm coming". When he finally got his paper, he opened it as wide as possible so that, yet again, something was stuck in my face! I'm amazed that people can be that bloody selfish!

To make matters worse the plane had to be de-iced which meant we were sitting on the runway for an extra 15 minutes. Which caused untold problems at Frankfurt airport, when I had just 20 minutes to get from one side of the airport to the other. I swear it was about three miles, most of which I had to run. Cue a big sweaty mess all but collapsing on Lufthansa's desk at Gate A20 gasping "Is this the Munich flight?" Luckily it was and boarding commenced just two minutes later. Phew.

More de-icing meant that we were late arriving to Munich and by the time I got to the city centre it was 11:00, but as I exited the S-Bahn station at Marienplatz, I was captivated. For there, right in front of me, was the most beautiful Christmas market I had ever seen.

The delicious gingerbread stall

Handmade Christmas tree decorations

The honey stall

Another gingerbread stall

And there was better yet to come. As I wandered around I stumbled across an amazing food market (not sure if it was part of the Christmas market or not!). To my delight there were lots of little 'tasting' stands where you could dip little bits of bread into jam, honey, sauces, pesto, etc. Some of the things were so delicious I kept coming back for more, but making subtle changes to my appearance (hood up/down, hair up/down, glasses on/off, etc) so as not to look too pig-like!

One of the many tasting stalls

A Christmassy delicatessen

Chocolate-covered apples

Gingerbread hearts

One of the many meat stalls

I wandered between the stalls, from the food market to the Christmas market and back again. I bought some sausages, a handmade cinnamon and pine cone decoration for a friend and some spices to make mulled wine – a bargain at just 80c (£0.59/US$0.91) a pack. I also bought and quickly devoured sausages in bread rolls, some gingerbread and some Glühwein (mulled wine) and then went back for more! I could have stayed there forever but the temperature had dropped to around -5°C (23°F) and the weather was alternating between light snow and heavy rain. When I realised that my feet were soaking (thank you boots!) and beginning to freeze, I decided to chill out (or should that be thaw out?!) at the hotel for a bit. The next problem was finding it. Luckily the tourist office helped me out and after a two-stop S-Bahn ride (€1.20/£0.88/US$1.36) followed by a three-minute walk, I was snuggled up in bed.

But, as my trip to Munich was so short, not to mention expensive (thank you Lufthansa), I decided to brave the elements again. Besides which, Christmas markets look magical in the dark! So off I went, pausing for another sausage in a roll and some Glühwein before ending up at the tasting stands again (pig!).

On my travels I came across a cheese stall and was lured in by some bright green cheese. It turned out to be wasabi cheese, which seemed rather unusual so I decided to buy some. I stood in the queue for ages waiting for an American couple to stop arguing and just pay for their goods. (He wanted to "see everything"; she was "just too damn cold to care anymore" and wanted "to go back to the airport now". She scowled at me when she noticed me eavesdropping, although it was pretty hard not to!) Cheese procured I wandered around and tried to take some more photos, a pretty futile task when you are being jostled by would-be shoppers and trying to avoid losing an eye to the sea of umbrellas.

Cheese stall with green wasabi cheese in the centre

By 17:30 it was bitterly cold. As my jeans and boots were soaked through (again) and I had seen what I'd come to see, I headed for my hotel, stopping off en-route for a quick Starbucks. The warmth of the hotel was a welcome relief! As I thawed out, I reflected on my brief trip. I absolutely loved the market (or should that be markets?) and I can't wait to come back to Munich. I will choose a warmer month though as sightseeing when it's -5°C (23°F) outside is hardly tempting!

Marienplatz

Postcards from... Wrocław

I have mixed emotions about Poland. I lived there for nine months and, once the initial gloss had worn off, I came to hate the school I was working at, the people I worked with and even the country itself. Now sufficiently distanced from that period of my life, I can remember the good times, among them my trip to one of the country's most beautiful cities in November 2011...

Now the fourth largest city in the country, the history of Wrocław dates back to the Middle Ages when it formed part of the Duchy of Bohemia. In 992, it was conquered by Bolesław I Chrobry (Bolesław I "the Valiant"), who became Duke of Poland (r. 992-1025) and later the first King of Poland (r. 1025). The city remained in the hands of Kingdom of Poland through the reign of Bolesław I's second son and successor, Mieszko II Lambert (r. 1025-1031) and the brief reign of Bolesław I's first son, Bezprym (r. 1031-1032) whose short-lived reign led to the loss of the status of 'Kingdom' for nearly half a century.

In 1038, with the former Polish Kingdom in a weakened state, the Duchy of Bohemia saw its chance and successfully regained control of Wrocław. But 16 years later it was back in the hands of the Poles under Kazimierz I Odnowiciel (Casimir I "the Restorer"), Duke of Poland (r. 1040-1058). Following Kazimierz I's death, the city passed to his son and successor, Bolesław II Szczodry (Bolesław II "the Generous"), who became Duke of Poland (r. 1058-1076) and later King (r. 1076-1079) of the newly-restored Kingdom of Poland. Wrocław remained in the hands of the Kingdom of Poland until 1202, when it was taken by the Duchy of Silesia (1138-1335), who made it their capital.

After the break-up of the Duchy, Wrocław spent the next 610 years being passed from ruler to ruler. Following a period under the Kingdom of Bohemia (1335-1526), it was captured by the Habsburg Monarchy (1526-1742), before falling into the hands of the Kingdom of Prussia (1742-1871), then the German Empire (1871-1918), Weimar Germany (1918-1933) and Nazi Germany (1933-1945). In 1945, it became part of the People's Republic of Poland (1945-1989), later the Republic of Poland (1989-present).

Painted birds in the Jewish Quarter

If I'm honest, I had come to Wrocław for one thing – Stary Ratusz (Old Town Hall), that stands in the Rynek (Market Square), and more specifically, the east elevation of said building. So I set off to find it. However, once I reached the Rynek, I got distracted by the brightly-coloured buildings and I found myself photographing them rather than the main attraction.

Sadly, most of the buildings are modern reconstructions, the originals having been demolished and replaced at the turn of the 20th century. The square was destroyed during World War II and was later reconstructed in Baroque and Classical styles based on the way it had looked in the late 18th century.


Buildings on the Rynek



Colourful façades

At 37,914 sq. metres (398.26 sq. ft), the Rynek is one of the largest market squares in Europe. The buildings are built in various styles and each one has a traditional name, usually associated with the coat of arms on the façade, e.g., "Under the Golden Stag", a former 15th century pharmacy.


Pod Złotym Jelenien ("Under the Golden Stag"), now a Starbucks



Kamienica pod Gryfami ("Under the Griffins"), a Dutch Mannerist-style tenement



Pod Złotym Psem ("Under the Golden Dog"), alleged to be haunted

Just off one corner of the Rynek is Kościół św. Elżbiety (St Elisabeth's Church). Built in the Gothic style the church, which dates from the 14th and 15th centuries, stands on the site of a 12th century church. It was the main Lutheran church in the city and region until 1946. However, it has not been the luckiest of churches. In 1529, it was destroyed by a hailstorm. It suffered severe damage during WWII, and then in 1976, it was gutted by a fire.

St Elisabeth's Church

While walking around looking at the coats of arms, I came across some stunningly beautiful doors, each of which was just crying out to be photographed. I was also drawn to the some carvings above the entrance to Piwnica Świdnicka, which was opened in 1303 and is the oldest beer cellar in Europe.

Door to Kamienica Pod Siedmioma Elektorami (House of the Seven Electors)

Another beautifully decorated door

The entrance to Europe's oldest beer cellar

Close-up of the stone work

Slightly out-of-focus detail from the base of the statue on the right

Having explored the Rynek, I turned my attention to back to the thing I'd come to see – Stary Ratusz (Old Town Hall). Built in the Bourgeois Gothic style, the Town Hall started life as a single storey building in the late 13th century and was expanded over the next 250 years.

The eastern façade

Close-up of the eastern façade with its astronomical clock

The tower and the roof from the northern façade

On my second day I made my way to Ostrów Tumski (Cathedral Island), the oldest part of the city. To get there, I crossed Most Tumski (Tumski Bridge), a steel bridge constructed in 1889 to replace its wooden predecessor. The bridge is also known as "Lovers' Bridge", and is home to thousands of padlocks that enamoured couples attach to the bridge before throwing the key into the river.

Crossing "Lovers' Bridge"

Close-up of some of the thousands of padlocks left by lovers

The Gothic Archikatedra św. Jana Chrzciciela (Cathedral of St John the Baptist)

Statue of the Madonna and child

View of Ostrów Tumski from the cathedral

Final look at Ostrów Tumski

On my last day, I was walking to train station when I reached the junction of ul. Piłsudskiego and ul. Świdnicka and did a double-take. I had just come across the 14 life-size bronze statues that make up Pomnik Przejścia ("The Anonymous Pedestrians"), an artwork commemorating the introduction of martial law in December 1981.

Designed by Polish artist Jerzy Kalina and erected in December 2005 on the night of the 24th anniversary of the introduction of the law, Pomnik Przejścia is a memorial to the hordes of people who disappeared ("went underground") in the middle of the night thanks to the militia.

On one side of ul. Świdnicka bronze pedestrians walk towards the road...

Under their feet the pavement begins to break

Across the road, seven pedestrians sink into the broken pavement, disappearing forever...

Postcards from... Opole

November 2011 and my exploration of Poland was in full swing. As planned, I got the 06:25 train from Bielsko to Opole. Getting up at 05:15 wasn't much fun, but my grumpiness was soon replaced by happiness as the train made its way slowly through the Polish countryside. Because the autumn has been so mild the leaves, which were still on the trees, were a beautiful yellow-gold, and especially pretty in the early morning mist. Seeing them made me very glad I'd dragged myself out of bed.

At 09:35 on the dot I arrived in Opole. I was pleased to discover that the train station was a mere minute or so's walk from the main square. As with all the Polish towns I'd visited, the Rynek (main square) was the highlight, and Opole's was no exception. It was gorgeous – I simply couldn't take my eyes off the Town Hall tower.

Walking towards the Rynek



The beautiful Town Hall tower

Pretty houses on the Rynek

Aesthetically pleasing lines

Having had a quick scoot round the town and somehow gravitated back to the Rynek, I realised that I was hungry. The only question was where to go? There didn't seem to be anywhere, and the Rough Guide was about as helpful as a chocolate teapot – less so in fact, because I could have at least eaten said teapot! After lingering outside a likely-looking café for a bit, I did my usual trick of walking in hot on the heels of another customer. That way if I didn't like the look of the place, I could slip out hopefully unnoticed! As it happened, the waitress was lovely and before long I had a cup of tea (with milk!) and the biggest toasted salami, ham and cheese bagel I'd ever seen! And the bill? A mere 15zl (£2.60/€3.60/US$4). Bargain!

Refueled, it was time to go walkabout again, which didn't take long. Later, having seen everything I wanted to see, I sat on a bench in the Rynek reading my book.

The art nouveau Most Groszowy (Penny Bridge)

One of the many love locks on the bridge

Bazylika katedralna Podwyższenia Krzyża Świętego(Holy Cross Cathedral)

The main entrance to the cathedral

Opole is a very small but perfectly-formed town. It didn't really warrant an overnight stay, but having gotten up at stupid o'clock and spent three hours on a train, the last thing I wanted to do was spend two hours walking around the town and another three or four hours back on the train. So I had booked a hotel. For £43 (€60/US$68) with breakfast and free WIFI included, you can't go wrong. And when I went to my hotel to check-in, I was delighted to discover that instead of the single room I'd booked, I had a MASSIVE twin room with a view over the river...

The view from my window

After a few more loops of the town, involving more food and some last lingering looks at the Town Hall tower, I decided to call it a day and head back to my hotel room. It had been a long day, but one that was worth the effort. I'd had a lovely day in a picturesque little town...

Close-up of the Town Hall tower

The Town Hall

The River Odra by night

The next day, having seen all that Opole had to offer, I made an executive decision to get an early train back to Bielsko, which as usual was easier said than done. My limited Polish meant that I had to conduct the transaction in English. The cashier's limited English meant that she had to conduct it in Polish. A recipe for disaster, if ever there was one! I asked for a ticket to Bielsko and she said something in Polish that sounded a bit like 'normal'. Guessing that she meant second class, I said yes, and was surprised when she charged me 28zl (£4.80/€6.70/US$7.60) instead of the 42zl (£7.20/€10/US$11.40) I was expecting. But when she said peron 2, the very platform where my intended train, the 10:21, was departing from, I didn't question her further.

As I walked away from the counter I glanced at my ticket and noticed the listed stops, NONE of which were ones that the 10:21 goes through... Turns out that normalnie is a regional train as opposed to an InterCity one, hence the price difference. So, I had unwittingly been sold a ticket for a different train and all I had to do was find out which one! I looked at the departures board – 10:02 to somewhere beginning with 'p' – and then at my watch. 10:04. Bollocks! And then, like the greatest gift I've ever received, the late 10:02 pulled up at platform 2. I tore down the stairs, through the tunnel and up onto the platform where I thrust my ticket in the face of a conveniently-located official who assured me that the train was indeed going to Katowice. Relieved I found a seat and got my book out...

Of course that was only the first part of the journey. I still had to get from Katowice to Bielsko. On arrival in Katowice at 11:45 I hunted down the info board and scanned the departures. Nothing. There had to be something, surely. I scanned the board again. No trains to Bielsko or even Cieszyn, the possible final destination for Bielsko-bound trains. Panicking slightly I looked around. I was definitely at the right station...

Eventually I followed some people who were walking in the direction of platforms 4 and 5 and the exit. If push came to shove I could always get a bus back to Bielsko. As I passed another information board, I decided to have one last look. And then I saw it. The 12:26 to a place called Zwardon (never heard of it!) going via Bielsko. Phew! I KNEW there had to be one somewhere. Thankfully, the rest of the journey was uneventful...

Postcards from... Auschwitz

Monday, 31st October, 2011. The day I remembered my Jewish heritage, the day I walked in the footsteps of my ancestors, possibly traced their final journeys. The day I visited the place that bore witness to atrocities that shook the world and changed the history of Judaism forever. The day I visited Auschwitz.

I had booked a tour with Krakow Shuttle and was picked up outside my hotel bang on time. The next 20 minutes was spent driving to other hotels to pick up more people and by 09:30 we were on the road. Some 80 minutes later we had reached the infamous Auschwitz I.

First look

As we walked under the Arbeit Macht Frei gate, my first (and rather inappropriate) thought was that it was quite pretty: all red brick buildings set off by yellow autumn leaves... But it was like glancing at something and not quite seeing the full picture. Once you saw the triple fence of barbed electrified wire, you knew that this was no ordinary housing complex. No, this was the first concentration camp in Poland, and later the mass grave of at least one million Jews. This was where 'Doctor' Josef Mengele conducted all his vile experiments in a bid to find a means of rapidly increasing the Aryan population through multiple births, and decreasing the 'unwanteds' through mass sterilisation. This was where death was the only freedom for inmates...

The dreaded gate

Autumn colours at odds with the purpose of the camp

I can't even begin to imagine the horror of being imprisoned here

Stark and foreboding

If Auschwitz I looks unfamiliar, it's probably because it is. Films and documentaries all show the much sparser, much deathlier Auschwitz II, aka Auschwitz-Birkenau. Thirty times bigger and home to most of the mass extermination, Birkenau was designed to house and kill more Jews, Roma and ethnic minorities than several of the other camps put together. Sickeningly there was even a train that took people directly to the five purpose-built gas chambers which, as the camp reached capacity and then some (at one point it had 40,000 inmates), became the first – and last – port of call for most late entrants. They never even stood a chance.

Back in Auschwitz I, we were shepherded into big rooms, rooms which used to house the inmates and which now house collections of things that belonged to them. When I saw the piles of human hair which had been hacked off, some of it still plaited, I felt sick. Seeing piles of carefully-labelled suitcases, which had been confiscated and plundered, was heart-breaking.

Block 14a, which once housed prisoners

Block 10, where Mengele carried out his experiments on inmates

In another room there were tins of shoe polish bearing inscriptions in a multitude of languages, Dutch, German, Greek, Russian, Polish, Italian, Hungarian, proof that the Nazis were shipping in Jews and other unwanteds from all over Europe. And in yet another room there was a collection of confiscated shoes – 40,000 pairs of them. And that was only a fraction of the total. The rest had been re-designated or transported to Berlin to give to the poorer Nazi families.

One of the worst parts though was seeing the photographs of emaciated, abused and broken people, and hearing that many of the survivors died just days after liberation. Can you imagine surviving a concentration camp (and a Polish winter or two) for months on end and then dying just days or even hours after you got out?!


Sign befitting a death camp

 

Having seen Auschwitz I, we were driven the short distance to Auschwitz II. The 'familiarity' of this site shook me. Standing on the train tracks, the same tracks that had been the final destination for so many people, was unsettling.

The watch tower

Flowers left on the train tracks

The end of the line

Our guide took us to see the inmates' former living quarters, little more than long, wooden sheds through which the wind must have whistled in the depths of the Polish winters. Rows of bunks in one, rows of concrete potties in another, nothing whatsoever in a third. If those walls could speak, what would they say?

The wooden sheds which formed the inmates' living quarters

Rows of bunks

The 'bathroom'

An empty shed

Back outside, we were given free reign to explore alone, left to our own devices and thoughts. I broke away from the group to simply stand and try and process the enormity of what I'd just witnessed, the realisation that thousands upon thousands of Jews, Roma and other ethnic people lived and died in those very sheds...

Looking down the tracks

It felt somehow wrong to be a tourist at a death camp, wrong to even want to visit such a place. But if, as I suspect, that is where my relatives ended up and ended their days, I couldn't NOT go. I couldn't not visit their final resting place. Regardless of where they ended up, I couldn't not acknowledge the atrocities carried out there, couldn't not pay my respects to the millions who lost their lives for nothing.

 

Silence at last...

It's been almost four years since I went there, but what I saw, what I felt, what I sensed, has stayed with me and will for the rest of my life...