Thursday, May 26, 2005
(From Krakow): so what’s Krakow all about?
I hold that it’s not the buildings at all. It’s not the monuments, palaces, churches. It really is all in the people.
True, on the main square, it is nearly impossible to distinguish the Polish tourists from the locals. Yesterday, as I strolled past dozens and dozens of packed coffee shops, I could tell that there were plenty of locals spinning tales over a coffee or ice cream. Out on the streets, it can be harder to tell one from the other.
But here, take a look at the photos below – all locals for sure. They are what makes this into a city with vitality as opposed to a small town with an interesting past.
I’m leaving this morning and already I know I will miss this energy (Warsaw has it as well). People move differently here and I move like them. Their rhythm is my rhythm. Their talk is my talk.
p.s. Dinner last night was a blow out meal of Polish food. I am still recovering. For the reader who asked for photos of traditional dishes – I’m happy to oblige. Oscar, B and I rampaged the menu – so much so that the waitress told us meekly that she thought we were ordering too much. We smiled, shrugged and kept on eating.
True, on the main square, it is nearly impossible to distinguish the Polish tourists from the locals. Yesterday, as I strolled past dozens and dozens of packed coffee shops, I could tell that there were plenty of locals spinning tales over a coffee or ice cream. Out on the streets, it can be harder to tell one from the other.
But here, take a look at the photos below – all locals for sure. They are what makes this into a city with vitality as opposed to a small town with an interesting past.
I’m leaving this morning and already I know I will miss this energy (Warsaw has it as well). People move differently here and I move like them. Their rhythm is my rhythm. Their talk is my talk.
p.s. Dinner last night was a blow out meal of Polish food. I am still recovering. For the reader who asked for photos of traditional dishes – I’m happy to oblige. Oscar, B and I rampaged the menu – so much so that the waitress told us meekly that she thought we were ordering too much. We smiled, shrugged and kept on eating.
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