A midnight walk through Krakow 

Destination Poland: Thursday

Ode to Rynias – Hej, gory, moje gory!

I can do this in a day, yes I can: an early bus takes me from Krakow to the Tatra mountains; I find someone to drive me to the village of Brzegi, right at the border with Slovakia. From there, I hike the hour or so to Rynias. They said the weather may be miserable: cloudy, windy, cold. So what! I want to get grounded again. I need a day in Rynias.

Looking out from the valley, you see the Tatry peaks... 

That is Rynias, in its entirety. 

Rynias. How do I describe it… It is the opposite of New York! How crowded is it? There are only three households. After that, the nearest neighbor is a one-hour hike away. There are no roads to it – only a rough dirt one, traversable in the summer, not in the winter.

The way things are moved from one place to another 

The path I follow 

The gate to my destination 

I could have spent the night there. Pani Anna and Pan Stas live there and they’ll always put me up. But I am getting too old and spoiled to enjoy winter nights without indoor plumbing.

I met them first exactly 35 years ago. I was a student in Warsaw. But I moved to the States a few years later and I didn’t go back to Rynias for many decades. Pani Anna and Pan Stas went from being in their 40s to passing 80. They lost their one son to a motorcycle accident. Pan Stas, as of today, has only one tooth left. He will not smile at the camera, but he’ll smile and smile for me.

Pan Stas 

They live off the land and tend cows and sheep. Pan Stas no longer leaves Rynias at all: he can’t make the hike to the village. I love the feel of his scratchy, unshaven chin as he kisses my hand, my cheek in gratitude. For what? The Fanny May chocolates with the bill stuck inside? Hasn’t opened them yet… It’s because I came back. He says repeatedly: “you promised last time [almost five years ago] you’d come back soon. You promised.”

Who are you and why are you looking at us? 

A tiny hut where they cook and eat. 

He makes me tea on their wood-burning stove and wobbles over to make more when I am done with the first glass. “Don’t go yet. Wait for Anna. She will be so sad to have missed you.” Anna went to town to shop for food. The two of them will do for Christmas what they do day in and day out: eat together, just the two of them. But they’ll cut down a tree and bring it inside.

I have to go: my ride is waiting in the next village. I love that he walks out with me, my highlander, my grandfatherly friend. He stands in the snow and watches me trudge down the path until we cannot see each other anymore.

Mountains frame the quiet Alpine valley 

The walk to Rynias is through a splendid pine forest... Balsam firs, dusted with snow, are everywhere... 

In Brzegi, the village next door, an old highlander takes a late afternoon walk. 

(Did anyone notice that the mountains were delicately laced with mist, but the sky turned into a wintry blue after all?)

Destination Poland: Wednesday (evening)

Everything you wanted to know about my evening in Krakow but were afraid to ask:

Q: How do people move around in the city at night?
A: Walking is a must in places like Krakow. Many of the central streets are narrow, cobble-stoned, one-way, and have restricted access for non-taxis. Outside the Old Town area, trams are popular (as they are in Warsaw).

too fast for my camera...

Q: Who did you have dinner with?
A: Not with these guys:

Outside, digging into the grilled sausages. Note his moustache. Classic old-world Polish. 

Actually the hotel package that I have includes one dinner at the restaurant here and so I stayed at the hotel. I listened to the conversation at the table next to me. The guests were British and I would say the most excited they got during the evening was in recalling a visit to a local museum. Someone exclaimed “Oh! Lovely.” That was the high point. I felt like I should do something outrageous, just to liven things up, but I let it go.

The menu was set and it included broiled eggplant, the ubiquitous raw carrot salad, roast pork in a mushroom sauce and potatoes. The dessert was a lovely chocolate thing. Poles are especially good with desserts.

chocolate something or other. yum. 

Q: Why do all beds have this little pillow on top? Is it to play with? To toss around? What?
A: We call them “jasiek,” literally “johnny pillows.” They’re cool, they let you wrap your arms around them, sort of like a teddy bear. Most homes have them too.

a little pillow to snuggle with and of course, puffy down quilts 

Destination Poland: Wednesday (evening)

You know those free guides to cities you find lying around hotel rooms? The one on Krakow has the usual listings of hotels and restaurants and important sights. There is also a little box insert that says the following:

Be warned: Polish beer and vodka are rocket fuel. If you’re determined to make a prat [sic] of yourself then make sure it’s not in front of the law. A trip to Krakow’s premier drunk tank (ul Rozrywkowa 1 – which literally translates as Entertainment Street) will set you back 250 zl [equivalent to about $85] for a 15 hour stay. In return for your cash expect a strip search, a set of blue pajamas and the company of a dozen mumbling vagrants. Those resisting arrest will find themselves strapped down to a bed, One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest-style. Refreshment comes in the form of limitless coffee, though the mug it comes in will smell of urine for a reason. Credit cards not accepted.

Makes you wonder how the writer knew of all those small details…

Destination Poland: Wednesday (afternoon - evening)

Playing hot and cold

Why all this constant talk of cold? The temps are in the upper twenties. What’s the big deal?

In truth, the prickly cold air is not constantly on my mind. I get easily distracted. For instance, this morning, I peeked into the Collegium Maius. There, the date 1492 is most significant, not because Columbus sailed the ocean blue (not this Ocean!) but because Copernicus began his studies at Krakow's Jagiellonian University in this year.

The Jagiellonian University's Collegium Maius: think old; think Copernicus. 

Each time I am in Krakow, I pop into the St. Francis’ Basilica. Wyspianski, the Polish playwright-artist, made the beautiful stained glass windows here. They’re considered Art Nouveau. I like the lilies and irises. I also like the fact that every time I stop to admire the windows, I somehow position myself right next to the confessional (you have to be there to understand how this happens). Last year, I heard a teen girl let loose about her anxieties on her way home from school. I would have said – go! You’ve done nothing bad! But I am not schooled in the ways of the confessional. This year, an older man mumbled his way through such a grand text that I think it must indicate that he is one lonely dude. At the same time, in a side nook, some 40 older people were listening to a sermon. Forty, on a Wednesday morning. Only in Poland.

I cannot do it justice here. Go to Krakow and check it out. 

And I think of warm apple pie. I told blog readers in the past: this is not an American dish, it’s Polish! Here’s my afternoon moment, with a cappuccino to add oomph to the afternoon.

This cafe went all out with the whipped cream and the added sauce. But the taste of the "szarlotka" (apple pie) is the same: fantastic! 

Okay, fine. But I do also think of the people who must be so much colder than I am. Take the pretzel people. They ask for small change for their product. How can it even pay for a day’s worth of cold-weather work? Pretzles, sold all day long, no matter how much I am shivering in my five layers.

who will buy... 

And families eating the grilled meats and stewed cabbage. The little one can’t be drinking hot spiced wine to warm her insides! She must be cold.

Benches and wooden tables to sit at while you're filling up on the kielbasas, etc... 

And the accordion player, here every year, running through Christmas music on the same street corner. The music has peasant roots and it sounds quite different than the English stuff we’re used to in the States.

I recognize the melodies... 

I wonder if it is obvious to readers of this blog: I’ve blended. I speak nothing but Polish (with rare exceptions). I am Polish now. What keeps me connected to my life back home (and truthfully, home is Madison now) are the emails. Thank you all for writing. It means so very much to me, you’ve no idea.

P.S. I’m not in Krakow tomorrow during the day. Be patient. I have this zany idea and I am banking on things falling into place.

Destination Poland: Wednesday (afternoon)

How old would you say she is?

What does age matter? If she’s competent, then does it matter if she’s wrinkled or barely able to order a drink in a bar?

How old, come on…
I find ageism to be repugnant. For instance, this morning I was eavesdropping in the hotel breakfast room and I heard an American woman describe her experiences conducting workshops that had something to do with the Internet. She looked to be in her upper sixties. Yeah!

You are so avoiding my question. You had a meeting with a judge who handles abuse and neglect cases. In fact, it appears that she has huge discretion to basically decide the fate of children and families in crisis, more so than the judges in the States and I’ve heard you complain that the American judges have too much discretion. So, this judge whom you met with all afternoon, how old was she anyway?
Maybe approaching 30?

The circuit court in Krakow. Kind of looks like ours on Martin Luther King Jr. Drive, doesn't it? Please do not comment on the decrepit bench out front! 

Destination Poland: Wednesday (afternoon)

December 8th already? Time to get the holiday stuff out of storage

Christmas is a Big Deal in Poland. Still, to the outsider, things look tame. Yes, there is the holiday market. But the decorations elsewhere are only now going up. And Krakow appears to be conflicted about how much of the American Christmas should make its way here. The traditional Polish Christmas has a tree, but there is no Santa. Did I say no Santa?

Main Square trimmings  

Let's start thinking about putting up those garlands over city streets...