Warsaw to Krakow 2nd Oct 2001
Leaving WarsawCzestochowa, the holy City of Poland
Crack on to Krakow
During our stay, as well as visiting the usual haunts; museums, summer palace, palace of culture, parks and so on, we had spent many happy hours helping Marcin and Artur with their reading homework and othere childish pursuits. The boys really were quite charming and the only real downside was the minor monk that Artur had when the credits ran out at the amusement arcade during our aborted ten-pin bowling trip. As may be gathered from this, Warsaw has its fair share of Americano amenities. None the least being the whole gamut of fast food restaurants.
Back to the bike and things were not going well in the sparks department with the battery managing only a few turns of the crank before giving up the ghost. Suspecting a minor short induced by the grim weather and so a susequent battery discharge, the mains charger was called upon with the required effect after about one hour. During this time, I took the chance to spray the magic WD40 over all of the electrical network. Safe to say the problem was solved.
Heading south, we chose the dual carriageway route, wise as we are now to the inherent danger of road travel in Poland. Adam, the proud possesor of one of the safest cars in the world - the Volvo, chooses to travel everywhere by train and has managed to knock up only 3000 miles a year. The rain thinned to a light drizzle, but the road spray from the horribly juggernaught rutted pavement continued to be a complete nightmare.
Lunch today was a stop at a roadside cafeteria where we availed ourselves of Zurek - a marvellous Polish soup that Gosia had introduced us to. It is made from soured rye flour and infinitely surpasses this description for flavour. Mostly it is served with boiled egg and sausage meat in it. On this occasion, there was something akin to a pocket battleship made from the most delicious sausage meat I have ever tasted. Regrettably, following a few days of superior treatment, my kevlar reinforced motorcycle trousers would not allow me to complete my meal. Hippy has spare room in her trousers - cunning plan!
Czestochowa, the holy City of Poland
He roads now dry, we made good progress done to Czestochowa, which in keeping with most, if not all, Polish cities was turned from a beautiful religious centre to an industrial city under the communist regime in an attempt to balance the old beliefs with the new. The cathedral and monastery is perched atop the only high ground in the area and heralds ones approach with great dignity displaying the tallest church spire in Poland.With remarkable ease (following signs) we found a campsite close by to the sights and booked into a 'bungalow'. We assumed that the lack of heat therein was owing to it being at the end of the tourist season and the heaters having been turned off for some time. Actually, it was because the heaters were crap. Hot water was plentiful in the morning, but bathroom space was not, as our bungalow was shared by a group of pilgrims who were not up on bathroom ergonomics. Those who know me will realise that I am pokiothermic - i.e. cold blooded and without external heating I freeze - hence I spent the night in 2 jumpers, long johns and still didn't manage to reduce the goosepimples. Pat being more warm blooded had had a reasonable nights sleep.
The reason for the pilgrams is the presence of a miracle picture, which it is claimed bleed when thieves tried to steal it and then when the monks tried to wash it, a natural spring appeared from God, which runs to this day. I, walking through the cathedral felt something of a charleton as people queued to confess to the numerous priests. In the streets outside the monastery, shops sold plastic , ceramic, wooded copies of the original miraculous picture. Somehow, I felt that whatever God's intentions were, it was not that pople would comercialise his efforts. It seemed presumptuous to assume that a mere human could imitate a miracle. Still, it's only like Blackpool, really.
Better take back over the keyboard before this gets any worse. When we get to Afrca, we expect the roads to get like this but it seems a bit tough having to face it already. We ended up using 'the force' to get back on track and made it to Krakow in glorious sunshine. The city is quite beautiful (once, of course, you have passed through the post-Stalinist steelwork belt) and we felt very comfortable straight away. We rode straight into the old square and paid a pretzel vendor to watch over the bike while we gleaned info on cheap accom. See, you do live and learn - we didn't want another Gniezno.
After a couple of false starts, we moved into the youth hostel just out of the centre and had time to unload and get back to see the town. We'd already decided to take a couple of days here and so thought we'd take in an authentic Polish meal out. Regrettably, as dusk decended, all we could find were row upon row of pizza bars and kebab shops. We settled for a little downstairs gaff that still offere a value holiday menu of familiar dishes. Pierogies are like small ravioli and lovely and doughy when you're feeling hungry. Usually served as an accompniament to Barsch (Polish spelling - but you know the soup), regrettably, I could only get chips with mine.
Next morning, no life could be coaxed from the bike and Hippy had to give a good old push to get a jump start. That achieved, the bike ran extremely well and I can only assume that the battery is not holding a charge or it is not getting a decent charge supply. We were going to go to a cyber cafe to find the local BMW dealer when we accosted a passer by on a Honda Africa Twin who insisted on taking us to one only to find that it was shut. So we look forward to another nigh in Krakow. I can't imagine a nicer place to get stuck.
We made our way back into Krakow from the bike shop and landed at the oldest part of the old town - the fortified cathedral and old royal palace of Wawel. This is the ancient seat of Polish royalty and has been used for coronations even since they upped sticks and moved to Warsaw amongst other places. The palace contains many art works that are worth a look in. Regrettably, one has to take a timed, guided tour which leaves absolutely no time to linger with exhibits. The style of the funishings fo the most part appealed to Hippy and I, but there were some rather chunky, overdecorated bits of furniture that would not have been out of place in the Adams Family. Perhaps the least pleasant table was one which was not even gilded but somehow covered in silver leaf - a style faux pas if ever there was one. In all, the Wawel complex is quite delightful and gives commanding views over the area.
Andy Smith who has been moaning, apparently, about no mention on our website would do well to visit Krakow as it seems to be heaving with shapely young ladies. If he couldn't pull here.............
More musings to come. Hopefully we can take in a concert here to satisfy big Al's craving for culture. The latest news is that only opera is on offer and I'm afraid that there are limits..........
Watty and Hippy