To make the best use of our limited time in Iceland we planned an afternoon flight arrival at Keflavík airport with an evening reservation at the geothermal wonder: The Blue Lagoon. We booked our reservation months earlier as we heard they limit the number of people in the pool at any one time and it can be difficult to secure a reservation on the spot.
After some delay and difficulty we finally picked up our rental car. With temperatures just above freezing we could still see traces of snow on the road as we navigated towards the distant plumes of steam rising across the stark but beautiful Icelandic landscape. We parked the car, grabbed our suits, and headed towards the spa entrance. On the way we got our first close up look at the eerily rugged and raw vocanic land that is Iceland.
We entered the spa and suited up. Those with hair (not me) were told to put copious globs of spa provided conditioner in their hair. Apparently the geothermal water at the Blue Lagoon contains high levels of silica, and while silica isn’t necesarily harmful to hair it can make it a stiff and unmanagabled mess as the minerals build up.
Greased up with conditioner we walked outside into near freezing air, where a cold rain drizzled upon us, and quickly made our way into the warm silty azure water. The super heated 38°C seawater channeled into the lagoon from over 2000 meters within the Earth was hot in some spots and pleasantly warm in others. No place in the lagoon was deep enough to be over our heads. The salty water made you bouyant and so we half floated and bobbed our way through swirling mists to the swim-up bar for a drink and a complementary silica face mask. We relaxed ourselves in the warm waters, volcanic stream rooms, and hot whirlpools, until we turned into silica soaked prunes. Sufficiently soaked we removed ourselves from the pools and dressed ourselves to make the forty minute drive to Reykjavik while it was still light.
Reykjavik is a super quaint and cute city. And the Ion City Hotel couldn’t have been more conveniently located. The small 18-room boutique hotel on Laugavegur (a main shopping and dining street) was only a few blocks from the Hallgrimskirkja church. As if in a moonage daydream we were greeted at the door by a portrait of David Bowie in Berlin (where we had just flown in from) as well as a glass of champagne while our rooms were prepared. The customer service at this hotel was impecable, especially Ricardo at reception who received us. He walked several blocks to where we had parked our car, carried a disproportionate number of our bags back to the hotel, told us where we could park for an extended period of time for free, advised us on how to find our tour the next day, and recommended to us excellent places to eat dinner that night as well as a bakery nearby for breakfast the next morning.
Following Ricardo’s suggestion we walked past Hallgrimskirkja and Tulipop (what reminded us of an Icelandic version of Tokidoki) to a restaurant called Kol. We had heard horror stories of the bleak and challenging Icelandic food; Hákarl (Fermented Shark), Súrir hrútspungar (Sour Ram’s Testicles), Svið (Sheep’s head), Slátur (Blood Pudding or Liver Sausage), Lundi (Puffin), Hvalspik (Whale blubber), to name a few. But the food at Kol was excellent, proving to be one of the best meals (and most interesting cocktails – I ordered “The Total Witch Hunt”) of our European trip. It was also one of our most expensive. Food and drink in Iceland is very expensive. When our bill came we realized why the duty free at the Keflavík airport was so popular. I highly recommend grabbing some items there, especially load up on the Icelandic chocolate and the Icelandic liquourice as well a bottle or two of wine to take back to your hotel room.
With a belly full of food and drink, and my wallet a little bit lighter, we wandered back through the streets of Reykjavik to our hotel. On the way it occured to us why there were ear-plugs placed on our bedside stands. Ion City Hotel is only a few doors down from Dillon Wiskey Bar, which that night seemed to be featuring one of Iceland’s Black Metal bands. While it was loud, and I was glad to have the earplugs, hearing the pounding double bass drumkit and gutteral retching of a metal band my first night in Reykjavik couldn’t have made me happier. I slept great.
In part, the impetus for our travels across Eastern Europe was the opportunity to educate ourselves about the Holocaust. We didn’t intentionally choose Berlin, Krakow, Vienna, and Prague for this purpose, but we did find these cities (like many across Europe) intrinsically intertwined in a shared dark history of such grisly magnitude it is hard to comprehend. We sought out memorials and museums throughout our trip to understand how such atrocities could unfold and to further our resolve to identify and curtail parallel tendencies in our own country.
On our second day in Berlin we decided to visit the Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe. The memorial starts simple, small, and unimposing, with simple concrete slabs slightly protruding from the ground like benches. There’s another Stolperstein-like cobble nearby that starts a virtual concert on your phone to listen to as your enter the memorial.
As I moved forward into the memorial it struck me how quickly I was engulled and overwhellmed by the columns which towered over me. It seemed a warning to how quickly something innocuous could become something sinister. And how, like a maze, it can be hard to find your way out.
The tall columns extended down into the earth and were revealed in a visitor center and museum below the memorial. It was like going underground into a crypt where placards detailed the historical progression of the rise of Nazi Germany and the events that led to the Holocaust. The most poignant and heartwrentching experience were the last words of the murdered printed in panels on the floor speaking to you from beyond the grave…
“Dear father! I am saying goodbye to you before I die. We would so love to live, but they won’t let us and we will die. I am so scared of this death, because small children are thrown alive into the pit. Goodbye forever. I kiss you tenderly.” – 12-year old Judith Wishnyatskaya 31 July 1942
“Dearest Herta and Lore! We will see each other no more. I wish you both all the best. Think of me with love, as I do of you. Final greetings, kisses to both of you. I end.” – Death note of Richard Oschinski to his wife and daughter.
“I fell beside him and his corpse turned over, | tight already as a snapping string. | Shot in the neck. – And that’s how you’ll end too, – | I whispered to myself; lie still; no moving. | Now patience flowers in death. Then I could hear – | Der springt noch auf, – above, and very near. | Blood mixed with mud was drying on my ear.” – Szentkirályszabdja, 31 Oct 1944
On our third day in Berlin we went to the Topography of Terror Museum. Housed on the site of the State Secret Police (Gestapo), SS, and Reich Security offices, the museum is a vast and meticulous archive of the rise and fall of the Nazi regime with a focus the organized and institutionalized propoganda and terrorist methodologies they used to gain and retain power. It asks the central question which seems just as relevant today in the era of Trump: “How did National Socialism, which in retrospect was such an obviously deceitful, megalomaniacal, and criminal undertaking, succeed in attaining such a high degree of acceptance in Germany? Hilter, the Nazi Party gauleiters, a majority of ministers, state secretaries, and advisors acted as classic populists attuned to shifting moods. They bought public approval or at least indifference anew every day. By giving and taking away, they built a dictatorship of consent with consistent majority appeal.” Götz Aly, Historian, 2005.
After spending several hours walking our way from historical placard to historical placard tracing the depressing arc of Nazi evil, we finally learned the fate of the many perpetrators of Nazi terror and the Holocaust. It was depressing to learn that of the tens of thousands of Nazis involved in the murder of millions, only a handful were ever held accountable.
Both the Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe and the Topography of Terror museum had ample of documentation and ominous allusions to horrors of Auschwitz and Birkenau – our next holocaust experience.
Krakow, Poland: Our day started early, where dawn met drizzle. It was an appropriately damp and somber setting for seeing Auschwitz and Birkenau. We had booked ourselves into a small tour (~20 people) and set out on the hour and a half drive from Kraków to Auschwitz bracing ourselves for what would prove to be a harrowing and spirit-crushing tour of the brutality and atrocities of the most notorious of Nazi extermination camps.
From March 1942 on until the end of WWII, trains from all across Europe arrived in Auschwitz-Birkenau where over one million people were murdered by the Nazi’s. By the summer of 1944 the extermination initiative reached its peak. Of those arriving in Auschwitz-Birkenau only a small number were classified as “capable of work”, while the vast majority (women, children, and the elderly) were herded into “changing rooms” and forced to undress before heading to the “delousing showers” where they are gassed to death. The killing reached 10,000 people a day with the crematoria operating day and night but still unable to keep up with the bodies. Jewish prisoners were forced to burn the bodies of their dead in the open. Approximately one million Jews, 75,000 Polish prisoners, 21,000 Sinti and Roma, 15,000 Soviets POWs, and 10,000 other prisoners of other nationalities died at Auschwitz-Brikenau complex alone.
We went to Auschwitz first. Originally a Polish military base, it had been converted by the occupying Nazis into a death camp. You start your tour by walking past double barbed wire fences and and under the banner “Arbeit Macht Frei” (“Work Sets You Free”).
You are then brought into a small museum to see some of the belongings left behind by the Jews who died here. Jews were told they were being relocated and to pack their bags. This ruse served two purposes: 1) It gave people hope and kept the panic down as they believed they were just being resettled. 2) It brought valuables (clothing (often lined with precious stones), silverware, brushes, glasses, and other belongings) which were repurposed (along with gold from the fillings of the dead) to support the German war effort.
Our tour continued through barrack after barrack, many with walls lined with photos of the victims. Notice the twins. Joseph Mengele‘s obsession with experimenting on twins meant these poor victims received his “special” treatment. We walked through the grounds and through notorious torture cells of Block 11 and past The Black Wall where those kept in Block 11 were executed.
Lastly, we walked through the first gas chamber and crematoria where the Nazis perfected their use of Zyklon B. But the gas chamber here (and the cremetorium for burning the dead) was determined to be too small to meet their production goals.
The Nazis realized they couldn’t kill effectively enough at Auschwitz. It was then they began building Birkenau which was only a short bus ride away.
On the way to Birkenau you follow the train tracks. The same tracks hundreds of thousands of Jews were herded into before meeting their death. The train tracks go straight through the gates of Birkenau and the tracks end between the barracks and the gas chambers and cremetoria.
Nearby we toured a barrack and the adjacent latrines. Interestingly enough, the latrines were the center of Jewish resistance in the camps. Getting a job in the latrines was coveted because although the stench was unbarable and conditions unsanitary, the Nazis wouldn’t venture there. That autonomy gave the workers there the ability to become the center of black market commuications for trade and organized resistance.
The magnitude of death and the size of both Auschwitz and Birkenau are so overwhelming you are really just numb to the horror of the place. I honestly didn’t really feel anything while I was there, except perhaps stunned, angry, and a bit nauseated seeing that mountain of hair.
That was until we came to a spot where we stood by the side of the tracks. It was a place where thousands upon thousands of Jewish passengers disembarked only to be quickly inspected and separated from each other and their belongings into two groups; those who would be processed for work and those who would be processed for death. We were told to walk the gravel road to the end, towards the remains of the destroyed gas chambers and cremetoria. It was then, walking that road, I was overwhelmed with the sorrow of a million souls. Retracing those footsteps my feet became heavy, as did my heart. The drizzle intensified. Or was it my tears? I stared silently into the pit of the collapsed and suken gas chamber at the end of the road. Death lingered there still.
“FOR EVER LET THIS PLACE BE A CRY OF DESPAIR AND A WARNING TO HUMANITY, WHERE THE NAZIS MURDERED ABOUT ONE AND A HALF MILLION MEN, WOMEN AND CHILDREN MAINLY JEWS FROM VARIOUS COUNTRIES OF EUROPE. AUSCHWITZ-BIRKENAU 1940-1945”
We needed to catch the 8:30 am train from Prague to Berlin and the train was late. First a ten minute delay followed quickly by another ten. Then sixy minutes. Then ninety. Finally the departures sign showed a 120 minute. We waited anxiously. West’s fashion photoshoot for Noon magazine with photographer Mark Peckmezian and stylist Brian Molloy (remember West had been scouted when we were previously in Berlin). Over the past week we had been coordinating with Webber (Mark Peckmezian’s representation) about getting West to the shoot. It was an all day event and we had told them we could only arrive by Noon. To maximize West’s time they were sending a car to pick us up at the train station and deliver us (and all our luggage) directly to the studio. Now we were running two hours late.
Right on delayed time the train arrived and departed just as quickly again for the four hour trip to Berlin. The train ride from Prague to Berlin, epecially the sections along the Elbe and through Dresden, were lovely.
We arrived in Berlin around 2:30 pm and found a car and driver waiting patiently for us.
We were delivered across Berlin to the dingy and decidedly punk rock neighborhood of Kreuzberg, home to artists (and their studios), thrift stores, coffee shops, and record stores! Upon arrival at the studio we saw the photographer and his crew busily photographing other scouted models. West was quickly whisked into a flurry of clothing, makeup, and bright lights.
Tawny stayed with West during his photo shoot. Tawny was suprised to see he was shooting on 120 film instead of shooting digitally. Meanwhile, Clara and I went out to explore Kreuzberg. We didn’t know where we were going but quickly found ourselves in an artsy neighborhood with several excellent record stores (Soultrade, Heisse Scheiben, and a punk rock one called Wowsville I loved. It doubled as a cafe and we got ourselves an afteroon coffee and a beer, talked (Dad to Daughter), and reviewed our haul of excellent LPs and 7″s). It was nice to spend an adventuresome afternoon exploring a Berlin neighborhood with Clara.
Eventually Clara and I made our way back to the photo studio to collect Tawny and West. The shoot was a wrap. They put us back in a car to deliver us to our hotel (Moxy Berlin, which I don’t recommend) located near the East Side Gallery. After settling into our tiny rooms we went for a sunset walk along the open air gallery of paintings on a large remaining section of the Berlin wall.
We founds ourselves at a restaurant called Michelberger (located in the Michelberger hotel) where we enjoyed a very innovative and at times avant-garde meal. In particular, the zander (which I’d never had before), rhubarb, broad beans, black garlic (first picture here) was transcendant.
It was an incredibly long day, but one filled with interesting experiences in every moment and around every corner. Tomorrow we’d head to Iceland for the next chapter of our European spring vacation.
We rose early to take in a few sites before meeting my Slovakian ex-brother-in-law Sano around noon. A few short steps from our airbnb was Josefov (the Jewish Quarter of Prague) where we did a self-guided tour of the Jewish Museum of Prague (which consists of several historic synagogues which have been transformed into museums focused on different aspects of Jewish history in Prague and of the Jewish faith. We first visited the Pinkas Synagogue, which dates from 1535 but was turned into a memorial int he mid-late 1950s to 80,000 regional Jews murdered by the Nazis, as well as an exhibit of children’s drawings from the Terezín Ghetto. Both exhibits were profoundly sobering.
Next we visited the 600-year-old over-crowded Old Jewish Cemetary which was quite something to behold.
It was a brisk morning, so before heading to the railway station to collect Sano we stopped for a quick glass of hot svařák (hot mulled wine you can pick up from a street vendor in Prague). We were also tempted to buy a trdelník (think roasted doughnut filled with ice cream) and regret not giving into our impulses.
Once we had Sano with us we connected with Clara and West and made our way back across the Charles bridge to explore the Prague Castle. But first we stopped for a lunch deep in the catacombs of some restaurant dungeon we happened upon. One reason we ate there was because they had bryndzové halušky – The national dish of Slovakia! I remember Sano’s mother making this for me when I visited them in the early 1990s. We were also able to get some vegetable risotto, a vegetarian dish (a concept that was impossible to concieve of in Czechloslovakia back in the early 1990s). Sano and West being vegetarians we were glad to find these items on the menu.
After lunch we burned off our bryndzové halušky with the long hill climb up to the Prague Castle complex.
We headed towards St. Vitus Cathedral which I had visited back in 1991 and had incorporated the cathedral exterior into my college senior film project. But, I had never been inside. When we entered the cathedral I was entralled with the spectacular stained glass, including one by Alphonse Mucha who’s museum we had gone to yesterday. Sorry for all the pictures, but the glasswork was truly amazing and the weather perfect for illuminating it.
After St. Vitus we toured the decidedly less opulent 1099 year old St. George’s Basilica.
Our wanderings continued to the Golden Lane where castle workers once lived. At one time Franz Kafka even lived in one of these diminutive apartments. At the end of the lane there was a dungeon where castle prisoners were once kept (and confessions coerced).
We wandered down from the castle to find someplace for an afternoon coffee followed by a beer.
We stopped at a small cafe next to the Franz Kafka Museum where Clara and West went to spend an hour and Tawny and I caught up with Sano. The cafe along the Vltava river had the most spectacular view…from the men’s room…
We walked along the Vltava past the Charles Bridge and crossed back to the Old Town side on a quest to find Botas 66 sneakers – the original Czech sneaker. On the way we passed some new modern architectural styles that blended into the architectural mosaic that is Prague.
As we searched for a place to have dinner we found a vegan restaurant nearby and had a great meal, including vegan wine before heading in for the night. It had been a long and lovely day and great to reconnect with Sano again.
With only two full days in Prague we felt panicked about our ability to see it all. The neck-craining onslaught of architecutural eye-candy at every turn was almost to much to take in. The city of 100 spires seemed overwhelming, because beyond the spires every other building represents a textbook example of an architectural styles: Romanesque, Gothic, Renaissance, Baroque, Neoclassical, Art Nouveau, and Cubist (to name a few). It was hard to just get down the street.
We started our day in Old Town Square watching the Astronomical Clock strike 10:00.
We left Old Town Squared and decided to structure our experience of the city with a walking tour (narrated in our earbuds by Rick Steves) starting in Wenceslas Square (yes, Good King Wenceslas of Christmas carol fame). Lots of interesting history to Wencelas square (and architecture) but what was most interesting to me was that it was the site of the Velvet Revolution.
After our walking tour went to the Mucha Museum which featured a large colleciton of Prague’s native son. It was extraordinary. I was somewhat familiar with Alphonse Mucha but always thought his work was more commercial/graphic design oriented art nouveau than fine art. I didn’t realize how much detailed symbolism he put into his equistite beauties and how large some of them were. Unfortunately they didn’t allow photographs, but you can see the collection here.
As the afternoon wore on we walked back thru Old Town Square and then beyond towards the Charles Bridge. Along the way we stumbled upon a record store tucked away in an inner couryard – Disko Duck.
As we stepped out of the vinyl shop empty-handed (most of the records seemed imported from Japan so were very expensive) we happened upon the Ta Fantastika Black Light Theatre next door. Tawny had read about the many black light theaters across Prague and Ta Fantastika is known as one of the better ones. We bought ourselves some tickets for the 9:30 performance that night.
After tucking our tickets away we headed towards the Charles Bridge and restarted Rick Steves’ walking tour as we crossed.
On the opposite side of the bridge we took a quick detour to the John Lennon graffiti memorial which is as much about John Lennon as it is about fredom of expression and dissention against Communist rule.
It was a very very very very long day of walking and our feet were very sore. I’m sure the Dancing Houses would have been more impressive if we had taken an Uber to see them instead of walking what was at this point over 11 miles throughout the day. But we soldiered on, walking to find someplace to eat. As we headed towards our Yelp chosed destination we happened past Mosaic House, who’s external artwork intrigued us and we decided to have dinner there instead.
It was nearly 21:00 hours and our TaFantastika black light theater performance of “Aspects of Alice” would be starting soon. Our feet were too sore for the walk so we called an Uber and had them drive us to the theater.
The turnout of the performance was sad – pathetic really. In a theater that might have seated 200 there were only 13 people in seats. Despite that the performance was excellent and we really enjoyed the timeless ingenuity of the black light performance concept.
After the performance they asked for volunteers to “learn the secrets of black light theater”. Clara and West raised their hands and were invited on stage to learn the trade…
West performing black light theater
Clara flies like Alice.
It was such a long day and we did and saw so much of Prague. Our feet hurt so much they may as well have been bloody stubs. But the day ended on such a high note with the “audience participation” of Clara and West…it couldn’t have been a better day. With this momentum (and a glass of wine or two) we decided to do a walking tour back to Old Town Square and our Airbnb.
You know you’re on the right track when you see the original Budweiser (read of their legit claim for being the only real Budweiser) on tap in the restaurant car on your Czech train from Vienna to Prague. And the best part is a half liter only costs a few dozen Czech crowns (CZK).
The train also sold mini bottles of Slivovice of which I have both fond (and not so fond) memories from my time in what was then Czechloslovakia.
It was the summer of 1991, between my junior and senior year in college, and I was spending much of it with my sister who was living with her boyfriend in Bratislava. I had been in Prague for a few days exploring and had just returned to Bratislava when I heard Frank Zappa would be playing a concert in Prague the following night. I jumped back on the train and returned four hours to Prague to catch what would be one of the most transcendent moments – both musically and politically – of my life. Frank Zappa, having been named “Special Ambassador to the West on Trade, Culture and Tourism,” by President Vaclav Havel, would be playing a concert to celebrate the last of the Soviet troops leaving the newly independent country. I remember seeing Vaclav Havel not 50 feet from me in the audience. The atmophere was electric and optimistic and the music full of face melting Zappa solos. What I didn’t know at the time is it would be also be one of Zappas’s last two (days apart) concerts before losing his battle with cancer in 1993. I was excited to return with my family to Prague.
We arrived at dusk and caught an Uber to our Airbnb which was centrally located in Old Town Square. We quickly laid down our bags and headed to the square to explore and find someplace to eat.
Old Town Square
Old Town Square
View from our Airbnb
Our Airbnb host had suggested a local beer hall called Lokál Dlouhááá, which we were able to easily walk to. It was a chaotic place packed with patrons and no clear directions on how to get yourself seated. Tawny somehow finessed our names onto a seamingly hidden list and was able to get us seated within 5 minutes of our arrival. We drank our first half liters while we people watched other potential customers fumbling around trying to figure their system out. The food was simple and traditional (potato and bread dumplings, schnitzels, beef in gravy) and the beer local, inexpesive and plentify. It was a great way to start a return to a city I love.
Saturday morning Clara and West headed back to St. Stephen’s Cathedral to ascend the spire steps and descend into the depths of its catacombs. Meanwhile, Tawny and I set out to explore nearby Karlskirche. We had a few hours to kill before meeting with our high school friend Kudra who moved to Vienna years ago to pursue her acting career.
We bought a ticket to enter Karlskirche not really knowing what we were buying a ticket for. We followed a sign upstairs to see a small and uninspired display of religious artifacts. As we walked back down in disappointment we pondered asking for our money back. But then we noticed a door to the main church. Upon entering we were surprised to see two gigantic orbs suspended from the ceiling. It was an unexpected art display with a small queue waiting for an elevator to take you into the dome of the church to see the paintings on the ceiling up close as well as view the orbs from above. It was a very cool and impressive art exhibit.
As we exited the church we heard from Kudra and made arrangements to meet at St. Stephens where Clara and West already were. Once together we headed to Naschmarkt for lunch and to catch up on old times. It was a gloriously sunny and warm day. It seemed the whole city sprung from hibernation and the city buzzed with frühlingsgefühle. The market was packed and we took our time at lunch with a pint or two as we reminisced about old times and passed on the latest news of mutual friends.
After lunch, we connected Clara and West with Kudra’s daughter Ella who toured them around the city and introduced them to her friends. Meanwhile, instead of touring the typical sites of Vienna (Schönbrunn Palace, the Hofburg Imperial Palace, or the Giant Ferris Wheel, we opted instead to head to the Austrian countryside and the small village where Kudra lives to see her home and meet her husband Marcello. We enjoyed their company with a glass of wine (or two…or three) and an excellent dinner at a nearby Greek restaurant – Der Grieche.
Somehow through all that time together we neglected to get a picture of us all together. But I did get a picture of their cute snaggle-toothed cat and their tireless dog.
It was great seeing Kudra, meeting Marcello, and having Ella show Clara and West around the city. But it had been a long day and Marcello graciously offered to take us back to Vienna and drop us at our hotel. “Where are you staying?” We told him Hotel Imperial. When he drove us to that neighborhood and I pointed to the hotel he commented, “I thought you were kidding. That’s where all the rich and famous stay when they visit Vienna!”.
The next morning we had a few more hours to kill before heading to the train station for our 4.5-hour journey to Prague. While Clara and West went to see the orbs of Karlskirche, we headed to The Secession museum to see Gustav Klimt’s Beethoven Frieze. It was impressive and beautiful. While there we also encountered some unusual and more challenging art.
After the Secession, we stopped by Aida for a piece of Viennese pastry before heading to the train station. Bussi, Baba! Vienna. Next stop Praha.
With dwindling morning hours we wandered the cobbled streets and alleys of Kraków to bottle as much charm as we could carry (along with a painting or two) and have one last pint of piwo before heading to the airport. Do Widzenia Kraków. We’ll miss you.
After settling into our luxury accomodations we headed out for dinner walking the Ringstraße side streets looking for someplace to eat. After failing to get into several restaurants (for lack of reservations) we settled on a simple local brewpub where we could get a good schnitzel. If in Seattle you can’t throw a rock without hitting a Starbucks, in Vienna you can’t throw a cobble without hitting a schnitzel.
After dinner we wound through back streets and alleyways past black tie receptions and art openings in grand buildings with even grander façades until we happened upon the grandest of all – St. Stephen’s Cathedral . Although it was late the church was still open so we went inside and found an stunning art exhibit by Peter Baldinger called Sky of Stones. It was the first of several art exhibits we’d stumble upon in our short weekend in Vienna.
Our day started early, where dawn met drizzle. It was an appropriately damp and somber setting to see Auschwitz and Birkenau (which I’ll blog about separately). A punctual driver picked us up at our apartment right on schedule. We had booked ourselves into a small tour (~20 people). It would be a long day, not because of the hour and a half drive from Kraków to Auschwitz (and hour and a half back), but because of the harrowing and spirit-crushing hours touring the brutality and atrocities of the Nazi’s extermination camps. Knowing this, we had booked an extension of our tour with an add-on. To lighten the weight of our collective loss of faith in humanity, we had intentionally booked a trip that would end with a tour of the UNESCO’s World Cultural and Natural Heritage listed Wieliczka Salt Mine.
Descending the first 64 meters
Our first stop
First chamber
The several hour tour would take us to depths of 135 meters (443 feet), and to 20 chambers spread across 3km (1.86 miles) – a mear 5% of the overall mine dating back to the mid-13th century.
Our journey started with a dramatic descent down nearly 60 flights of stairs, to our initial depth of 64 meters (210 feet).
Rock salt sculptures
Salt sculptures of Kinga, aka; Kunegunda
The legend of the salt mine is that Kinga, (who was later canonized the patron saint of salt miners as St. Kinga) the daughter of the King of Hungary Bela IV and wife of Polish ruler, Boleslaw V, threw her engagement ring in a Hungarian salt mine and it magically made salt appear in Poland (as well as her ring). To commemorate this legend (as well as political, religous, and other figures) miners carved rock salt sculptures in large chambers throughout the mines.
Carving of Polish King
Horse drawn pulleys system. Horses lived their entire lives underground.
Our descent continued to a chapel built by and for the miners. During long stays in the mine it gave them a place to workship.
Second descent
Wood water pipe system
Chapel
Chapel
The most incredible chamber on the tour, at 331 feet deep, was the Chapel of St. Kinga – 67 years in the making (by 3 master miners who had been promoted to do the work). It held dozens of carved salt statues, a salt floor carved to look like tile, and even salt chandeliers.
The next major chamber we came to was held up by an incredible latticework of pine timbers.
Our tour ended with a further ascent to a restaurant, bar, and gift shop some 443 feet below the surface before we were able to catch the fast ascending elevator ride back to the surface.
As we headed back to Kraków we looked for places to eat near the Old Town Market. We stumbled across an interesting looking restaurant called Dobra which focused on building meals around varied types of groats.
Fried cheese with berries
After dinner we headed to Pod Badanami to see some live music with Mea Culpa & Jazz Roosters whom we had heard about the night before. While listening to jazz standards in Kraków seemed odd (although there is a long history of jazz in Poland), the band was good and the venue (in the catacombs beneath Old Town Market Square) made it even better.
Wednesday we woke to brisk blue skies which afforded us a glorious (but crisp) day in Kraków. As it turned out, our tour of Auschwitz-Birkenau was Thursday (I had it wrong), and that gave us another full day to explore the city.
Clara and West left early to find their breakfast amongst the fabled Milk Bars of Kraków, as we headed out for more cobbled wanderings of the old town back streets. We popped into various shops (Pepita purses, Pączki, Polish pottery, another coffee, maybe a beer) as we meandered our way towards Wawel Hill (where in the caves thereunder the mighty dragon Smok Wawelski once lived) and then atop to Wawel Castle where we met up with Clara and West for a self-guided tour of the state rooms, and a guided tour of the royal private apartments. Unfortunately the caverns below the castle wouldn’t be opened until later in April.
The castle didn’t allow photos, so I have none to share. But the tapestries were epic (especially the Noah’s Ark series which proves that unicorns and dragons made it on the Ark), the coffered ceilings amazing (in particular the “head room” ceiling where carved wooden heads stare down upon you watching your every move (presumably to keep you from taking pictures of them). One thing of particular note was the leather wallpaper, all hand tooled. It was a castle full of treasures and artifacts from the 16th, 17th, 18th, and 19th century, so it wasn’t hard to be impressed.
After storming the castle we made like peasants and went to a nearby inn to fill ourselves on pints of ale and
Pickles and Kraut
Pint of Pilsner
Kielbasa
Fried cheese
Pierogi
Cucumber, tomato and feta salad
Borscht
Chicken Soup
Cherry Vodka
As the low sun turned sherbet in the west we made our way back to the old town market square with a quick stop at the Church of St. Peter and Paul.
Once back in the old square we enjoyed the sunset on St. Mary’s and the Town Hall and some additional shopping before heading out again.
Town Hall
St. Mary’s
St. Mary’s
We had a quick drink and appetizer at Czeczotka Bar before trying to get into Harris Piano Jazz Bar. We had put in an online reservation, but apparently not early enough. All the tables were taken when we arrived. Our plan B was to see if there was live music at Piwnica Pod Baranami, but they didn’t have any music that night and suggested we come back tomorrow to see Mea Culpa and Jazz Roosters. We made a plan of it.
Town Hall
Old Town Market Square
We wandered the back streets of Kraków looking for some Polish food. We settled on an interesting place called Zalimianki by Polish celebrity chef Ewa Wachowicz where we had our first bottle of Polish wine and enjoyed an innovative menu of updated regional dishes.
Sabbatikos 
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