Poland

July 2005

Away we go again. P & O Ferries had some unbeatable offers of &~163;60 return to take the car across and back from Dover to Calais. The outgoing ferry left around 11pm on Sunday July 24th but with delays and the one hour difference, we were not on the road until around 1.30am local time. On the empty roads, I zoomed from France, up though Belgium and Holland and was into Germany by the time I started to get tired around 5am. We slept at a lay by for nearly 4 hrs before pushing across Germany via Hannover and Berlin and crossing into Poland at Szczecin in the afternoon.

Maybe we were just tired, but we missed the Gdansk road and ended up on the Polish coast near Germany. Here, just outside Swinoujscie, we stumbled across the Wolin National Park. The afternoon sun was filtered through the thick green canopy of trees to reveal an outstanding area of mixed (beech, oak and pine) forests and lakes. The surrounding resorts with unpronounceable names such as Miedzyzdroje and Miedzywodzie were full of Polish tourists enjoying the sun. The area was a lot more attractive than I can describe. It looked like a wonderful area to go cycling or mountain biking.

Eventually returning to Highway 6, we pushed east through undulating farmlands of wheat all the way to the Tri Cities, starting with Gdynia, then Sopot and finally Gdansk. They were all joined together in one urban conglomerate. There were many locals selling jars of collected blueberries from the surrounding forests. I couldn’t work out a) why were so many people lining the roads? b) did they actually expect the speeding traffic to stop? c) how much could you actually get for a jar of blueberries? As dusk fell, we had an aborted attempt to find a hostel by the coast and ended up in the dark in the old part of Gdansk. I managed to track down Dizzy Daisy’s hostel which had a secure car park and by 11pm we finally ground to a halt, about 29 hours after leaving home.

Dizzy Daisy’s was one of the new hostels springing up in the new capitalist Eastern Europe. It had mixed dorms and mixed bathrooms which was a little strange but perfectly comfortable. We ended up staying three nights in a 10 bed dorm. On the second night, my father got chatting to an attractive blonde German girl who had come to Gdansk to see where her grandparents were kicked out after World War One. In the middle of the night, after my usual intake of Polish beer, I was apparently snoring loudly. My father was woken by the German girl (hello, my lucks in, thought my 72 year old father). “Tom, what is that sound your son is making? Is he ok?”. “The fat bastard is snoring” he replied. “What is snoring?” My father went back to sleep thinking “Wonderful. My son is keeping her up and she wakes me up to find out why! Why didn’t she wake the fat bastard up?”

“Gdansk has a very chequered history. Centuries of independence asserted the port as a city in charge of its own destiny, and while it’s fortunes have waxed and waned with the political developments around it, it has always retained a resolute sense of identity and pride” (Lonely Planet). The (German) Teutonic Knights seized Gdansk in 1308 and turned it into a major trading centre. By the mid 16th Century, Gdansk controlled three quarters of Poland’s foreign trade and was the largest Polish city. The Prussians (Germans) eventually took charge, but after World War One, Poland was re-established as a country and given a ‘corridor’ to Gdansk to allow Polish access to the sea. It was renamed the ‘Free City of Danzig’.

The city was flattened during World War Two by the Russians pushing back the Germans. It took 20 years to rebuild the old town. More recently, Gdansk was in the headlines because of shipyard strikes in 1970 against the Communists who shot 44 dead to quell the protest. Then, again, in 1980 and the formation of the trade union Solidarity. . This first ‘free’ trade union was also the beginning of the end of Communist control. Lech Walesca, the electrician who led the strike and the subsequent talks became the first freely elected president in postwar Poland when the Russian influence collapsed.

Despite the massive industrial conurbation of the Tri Cities, Gdansk is a fine place to visit. The old trams rumble past and the tramlines seem to split the city and make driving an interesting experience (if only to find a crossing over the tramlines). Off the main arteries, there are no traffic signs which may lead to frustration until you follow your nose. The Gdansk girls are also very attractive with slim figures that western girls would kill for. The men are not exactly fat either. Western food consumerism has yet to have an effect here…but it will. Tesco’s hypermarkets have already arrived big time.

On our first day, we took in the Old Town and the Main Town, which are actually separate, though I would classify them as the same thing. The Old Town, was always a poorer relation to the Main Town, had no defensive system and had fewer sights.

We checked out St Catherine’s Church; a mid 15th century red brick construction with a vaulted gothic interior of brilliant white paint and massive columns supporting the roof. Across the road was the equally impressive Great Mill. Built in 1350 by the Teutonic Knights, it was the largest mill in medieval Europe, over 40m long and 26m high and equipped with a set of 18 millstones, each 5m in diameter. The mill operated until 1945 and produced 200 tonnes of flour per day. It was destroyed in World War Two. Ironically, the interior is now a non-descript shopping mall, but the exterior is still very impressive, with layers of strange slit eye windows.

Next door, on the other hand, the Main Town, had some wonderful sights which explains why it was full of tourists, especially American tour parties. It was always architecturally superior and fully restored, it now looks like it did some 300 or 400 years ago when it was most prosperous.

The central feature is the Royal Way, only 500m long but quite breathtaking. Starting at the old defensive Upland Gate (1574) and passing by the Foregate with its Torture House and Prison Tower, you enter the Royal Way proper via the Golden Gate (1612); a sort of triumphal arch ornamented with a double storey colonnade. This leads to the gently curving Ul Dluga, one of the loveliest streets in Poland; three and four storey buildings with classic facades and painted in various pastoral colours.

The Town Hall was a massive red brick edifice rebuilt after WW2 with a tall, staged tower on top. This looked over Dlugi Targ (The Long Market), once, er obviously, the main city market and packed with tourists. Neptune’s Fountain provided Kodak moments in front of the 1618 Golden House, with the richest façade in the city. Artus Court (the old Guildhall) also nearby, has for some reason, been an essential stop for passing luminaries. We looked at the VIP photos in the lobby, didn’t spot anyone of importance (maybe Clinton needed a cold beer, I can’t remember), looked at the photos of the interior and decided not to bother paying the admission price. Why bother paying to view reconstructions?

Under the Green Gate at the end of Dlugi Targ were classy buskers. That is, if you like your Verdi played with a violin and an accordion. Actually, the duo sounded really good under the arches with an echo and crowds stood to listen. Eventually we were driven off in the search of a cold beer.

The old Waterfront lay immediately ahead or rather to the left, which was once crowded with hundreds of sailing ships loading and unloading their cargos. Nowadays, it is just a tourist promenade of cafes and shops. However, the wooden Gdansk Crane does dominate the area. Built in the mid 15th century, it was designed to move heavy cargoes directly onto or off vessels. Two large wheels, 5m in diameter, were installed as a hoist with a rope wound around the axle; it was put in motion by people ‘walking’ along the inner circumference of the wheels as a treadmill. It could hoist loads of up to 2000kg, making it the biggest crane in Europe. It’s the only one left in the world (even if restored after the War). The Waterfront was a nice relaxed place. A Ukrainian student came to offer us tourist tat and with perfect English, said after his spiel, ‘Maybe if nothing pleases, you could give me a donation instead’. We gave him a donation of English swearwords he may be able to use in the future.

Off the Waterfront lay the short but perfectly formed ul Mariacka. After World War Two it was rebuilt from documents and pictures. It’s the only street with a complete row of terraces. The Lonely Planet called it “the most atmospheric of all the streets in Gadansk and unique in Poland” It may be unique but endless shops beneath the terraces selling the usual shit did not make it atmospheric.

Set right in the heart of the Main Town is St Mary’s Church (built 1343-1502), believed to be the largest old brick church in the world. It is 105m long and 66m wide and its massive squat tower is 78m high. It can accommodate 25,000 people and today in the pouring rain, it was packed with thousands of sheltering tourists. It is illuminated with natural light passing through 37 large windows (the biggest is 127 sq metres in area) and the three naved, whitewashed interior topped is very bright and spacious, even surrounded by 30 small chapels. The most interesting thing was the astronomical clock. When built in 1460, it was the largest clock in the world. The clock showed the hour, day, month and year along with phases of the moon, positions of the sun and moon in the zodiac cycle and the calendar of the saints; about 3000 pieces of information. Remarkable for its time.

A final sight was Gdansk’s shipyard to see the Monument to the Fallen Shipyard Workers (see earlier comment). Unveiled in 1980, 10 years after the massacre, the monument is a set of three 42m tall steel crosses. Ironically, the shipyards were closed in the post Communist economy. As in Cuba, where Che Guevara is now a tourist icon rather than an historical figure, there was a kiosk selling ‘Solidarity’ souvenirs and Lech Walesa soap-on-a-rope type of stuff.

We were in Gdansk for another reason; to try and get a visa for Belarus. I had an address for their consulate and on the first morning, we managed to find it down a leafy backstreet without a map, only to find that it had moved to a large ugly green tower block on the 9th floor, opposite the railway station. After filling in application forms, I was told by their top man that we needed an “invitation” before we could get a visa. “But we are tourists. We don’t know anyone”. He shrugged his shoulders as if to say ‘Tough Shit’. I mentioned the fact that the Ukraine had dropped their visa this summer to attract tourists and that we would go there instead. He then got someone to find the name of a local travel agent to arrange a tour.

I had given up on Belarus, but as we were walking around the Old Town, we popped into the travel agent. They spoke English. “We can provide you with an invitation.” So for about £6 each, he drafted up a letter saying we would be staying at a certain hotel. He also called the consulate. “They shut at 2pm. If you can get your passports to them before then, you’ll have your visa in 2 days”. It was 1.40pm. Fortunately, the ugly green tower was a 10 minute jog away. I arrived sweating like a pig. They still had my original application forms. Passing over $100 for two visas, I couldn’t believe, we’d managed to blag our way into Belarus.

With a day to spare, we decided to head south on an extensive daytrip to take in a few sights. There was heavy traffic leaving Gdansk. Poland has the occasional police speed trap, but oncoming drivers are pretty good in flashing their headlights to give you warning. There are also some ‘speed cameras’. Their presence is indicated by a sign as you enter a village. Then when you spot it, you wonder why you bothered. They are usually a crappy old blue box stuck on a lamppost that looks unlikely to have the technology to hold a camera and if they do, it is doubtful they could take a photo. They looked like results of a substandard metalwork class school project.

The roads are twisty, two laned affairs, with little overtaking opportunities and consequently slow going. The Polish drivers who want to overtake just drive down the middle of the road and expect everyone to steer towards the side. What makes it interesting is that they may be heading towards you or coming from behind. In retrospect, this was good practice for Belarus and especially the Ukraine.

Torun is “famed for its rich history and wealth of Gothic architecture…packed with monumental red brick edifices, baroque facades and vaulted roofs” (Lonely Planet). It is now on the UNESCO World Heritage List.

The Old Town Square is dominated by the massive 14th Century red brick town hall and lined with beautiful restored houses, many graced by intricate decorative facades. More impressive for me was the gigantic red brick post office with intricate brick designs on the walls and roof. There was also a statue of Nicholas Copernicus, their most famous resident who “stopped the sun and moved the earth.” He was the first person to suggest that the earth revolved around the sun in the 15th Century.

There were also some impressive churches nearby. St Mary’s Church (13th Century) in red brick with a tall tower, was austere from the outside and had a lofty interior with tall, intricate stained glass windows which seemed to dominate the place. The church also had a huge brick border wall that blocked it off from the old town square. Incidentally, the only beggars I saw in Poland hung around outside the churches.

The Cathedral of SS John The Baptist and John the Evangelist was bigger and more famous and they charged admission. We were seeing enough churches for free without paying to say we had been in a church with Poland’s second largest bell and where Copernicus had been baptised. They don’t call Bob Jack tours cheap and cheerful for nothing.

Incidentally, for all you Copernicus fans, you can see where he lived too, or rather I think you can. When we followed the map directions, it led us to a house that was falling down, which didn’t seem right, but that was the address in two guidebooks.

As an aside, I live in the county of Norfolk, in eastern England, which has adopted Horatio Nelson (he of the Battle of Trafalgar with one arm and one eye) as it’s most famous citizen. There is Nelson this and Nelson that and signs to say ‘Nelson’s County’. Yet when you visit the quaint village of Burnham Market to see his birthplace, you will eventually find a sign that says “Nelson was born 200ft behind this fence. The building was demolished in 1805.” Doh! Obviously no tourist board in 1805.

Walking to the new section of town next door, the New Town Square was scruffy and unimpressive but St James’ Church stood nearby, which dates from the same period as the old town and was huge. Pinnacles adorned the rim of the roof. Gothic wall paintings had also been uncovered beneath the whitewashed walls. I think all medieval churches in Poland originally had painted frescos everywhere but they were all painted over.

Torun also retains much of its old city wall bordering the Vistula River and three original gates (Bridge, Sailors, Monastery) have survived. There were also a few imposing medieval granaries and a particularly impressive Leaning Tower (an old house leaning over). We liked Torun. It retained magnificent architecture, yet also some atmosphere. It was less crowded than Gdansk and really a day tripper’s paradise. You could do a lot worse than spend a night here.

Unfortunately, we didn’t have that luxury and headed north again. We popped into Chelmno, (22,000 pop) which has retained almost its entire ring of medieval fortified walls, and has half a dozen red brick Gothic churches. Entering through the only remaining medieval gateway, we passed by the chessboard of streets to the main square (Rynak). Here, stood the graceful Renaissance town hall built around 1570. It is a fabulous building with white walls and soft blue trimmings. It was almost like a fairytale town hall (if, that is, you can think of a fairytale that involves a town hall). I couldn’t remember an administrative building that looked this small but so perfectly formed.

On the back wall of the town hall is the old Chelmno measure, a 4.35m strip of metal. The entire town was laid out according to this measure, setting all the streets exactly the same width apart and was used until the 19th century. Just off Rynak was the massive, late 13th century Gothic parish church. It still seemed strange to see all these huge churches built out of red bricks. Inside, the magnificent interior was packed with ornate baroque and rococo furnishings, but I remember it as the only church I saw in Poland with pink rather than whitewashed walls.

Poland never failed to surprise us with its beautiful towns. As we drove around, we would spot a skyline or a building and check it out. This is how we came across the village of Gniew (which I was surprised to find in the Lonely Planet guide to Poland). This is due to the “prominent and remarkably well maintained castle” which we saw from the road. The first stronghold of the Teutonic order (read your history books!) on the left bank of the Vistula River, the castle was built in the late 13th century and is a massive multi-story brick structure with a deep courtyard. It was seriously burnt out in 1921 but the 2m thick brick walls survived. Parking in the lovely old cobbled village square, we snuck in to find local Polish girls rehearsing folk/line dancing. A gigantic canvas roof had been strung across the open courtyard from the top of the four walls which was impressive to look at, with a central twisty flute tumbling down in the centre.

If you want to see just how much you can build with ordinary red bricks, then Malbork Castle is the place to see. It is “reputedly Europe’s largest Gothic castle, a splendid UNESCO-listed example of the classic medieval fortress” (Lonely Planet). Arriving late in the day, we were spared the endless tour buses. We got a marvellous view of the entire complex from across the Nogat River where the brick turned into an intense red brown. It looked like the biggest Lego model you have ever seen, a little run down, but still very impressive by its scale. As with Gniew castle, the ‘Marienburg’ (Fortress of Mary) was built by the Teutonic Knights and was the main base for 150 years. It was built in stages between 1276 and 1309 and was eventually encircled by three rings of defensive walls, (spread over 21 hectares), making it the largest fortress built in the Middle Ages. It was restored in the 19th Century (by the occupying Germans as a symbol of the glory of medieval Germany), but was bombed during World War Two and later restored.

Having grown up in England where we have endless castles built of massive stones, it seemed strange to see such a large construction made of red bricks. I had seen similar castles in Latvia and Estonia. Yet, they do not feel like real castles to me; they still seem like Lego models. Consequently, we did not bother to go inside. I’ve seen enough restored castles to know what I would find. Instead, we walked around the endless defensive walls, which gave us a good idea of the size of the complex. The towering walls and dry moat looked really imposing and the scale was awesome, especially the multiple defensive walls. I could copy lots of guide books narratives about the interior which we never saw, but all you need to know is that you will not see a bigger castle in Europe and for this fact alone, it is worth a visit. As a world historian, I was almost embarrassed to admit that I did not know that Poland had the largest castle in Europe.

The following morning, we collected our Belarus visas. Ground floor security recognised us and didn’t even bother issuing security passes (as they did before). Once we had our passports and stamped visas in our hands, we got out of Gdansk and drove to Warsaw. More wheatfields, undulating green countryside, Polish drivers overtaking in the middle of the road and eventually, shock horror, a dual carriageway about 50 miles outside the capital which was a breath of fresh air, if only to relax from the crazy overtaking.

Warsaw had never held much attraction for me, mostly because it had been flattened in World War Two and then been rebuilt. Lonely Planet gushed “Like a phoenix rising from the ashes…to once again become a thrusting, thriving capital city on the banks of the Vistula River”. It didn’t take much effort to negotiate the centre and then find the Syrenka youth hostel, only two miles from the main train station, in a suburb, where we could leave the car and catch a tram back into town. I always enjoy catching a tram which seems so European and decidedly un-English since we lost ours decades ago.

Warsaw was always a shaky capital in Poland’s turbulent history of getting taken over and carved up by stronger countries and when the Russians pushed back the Germans in 1945, 85% of the buildings and 800,000 people were killed. It was the most devastated city in Poland. Then the Communists moved in and rebuilt in typical communist grey. I remember reading PJ O’Rourke’s 1980’s article “What to do in Warsaw on a Saturday night” which was actually nothing. With the arrival of the market economy in 1989, the face of Warsaw has apparently changed rapidly and steel and glass towers have started to appear.

Cosmopolitan Warsaw was most apparent walking up Ul Nowy Swiat, which was always the most fashionable shopping area, and was now awash with sidewalk cafes, boutiques, twinky shops and bizarrely, colourful full scale models of cows at various intersections, on bus shelter roofs etc. I have no idea what the campaign was but I also spotted one in Bucharest, Romania.

I was only interested in seeing a couple of things in Warsaw. First up was the old town. It was rebuilt between 1949 and 1963 with the aim of restoring the town to its 17th and 18th Century appearance. UNESCO has since declared it a World Heritage site. We started our brief tour from Castle Square, where protestors were waving flags and handing out leaflets stating that Turkey should not be admitted into the European Community. This seemed a bit rich coming from a country that was only admitted two years ago! The Royal Castle dominated one side of the square, except that it didn’t look like a castle at all. It was a former royal residence, painted bright yellow with a clock tower in the centre. Hitler had it blown up during World War Two. We didn’t bother going in to tour the Royal Apartments. I had done some in Vienna, Austria and once was enough.

We pottered around the old cobbled streets with the tall, multi-storied houses rebuilt on either side. The Old Town Square was lovely, lined with open air cafes and stalls selling paintings, with a “fine blend of Renaissance and baroque with Gothic and neoclassical elements” (Lonely Planet). A statue of a mermaid in the centre is the symbol of Warsaw. I have no idea why. While it is nice to stroll around all the ‘old’ streets, it felt as if we were walking through a Disneyland version of old Warsaw. The houses didn’t look lived in (though they must have been). It was all very neat and tidy and organised. What it lacked was ‘atmosphere’. This was probably due to the fact that the area was packed with tourists. Maybe it was just because I knew that it wasn’t original.

The skies were darkening quickly as we walked from the Old Town via the Saxon Gardens towards the Palace of Culture and Science. Just minutes away, the skies opened up with the roar of thunder and crack of lightening and then someone above emptied an ocean over the city. We sheltered beneath the giant columns, yet the wind still blew the rain over us. Real wrath of God stuff. The building above us looked like the main creepy one in the ‘Ghostbusters’ movie.

A solid ediface of Communist grey and the tallest building in Warsaw, it’s prominence on the skyline is even more obvious because it stands on its own like a socialist rocket ship. Built between 1952 and 1955, it was a ‘gift of friendship’ from the Soviet Union, and at 231m, Europe’s tallest building at that time. The locals took an immediate dislike to it, giving it nicknames like ‘Russian Wedding Cake’ and ‘Vertical Barracks’ and also ‘An Elephant in Lacy Underwear’ referring to both its size and the fussy sculptures that fill the parapets. Inside, there is a huge congress hall amongst other things. I had read that you could catch a lift to the top for free, but when we entered, an admission charge of£4 had appeared this year. There seemed little point in paying to look over a dreary city skyline covered in dark clouds.

That was Warsaw pretty much. It took an afternoon. I guess we could have toured the museums dedicated to the Jewish resistance to the Nazi’s (The Warsaw Ghetto), but having toured Auschwitz concentration camps outside Krakow a decade ago, nothing more had to be said or seen. We caught a tram back to the Youth Hostel and checked in. We shared a room with an old wrinkled American. A retired coal miner, he had come to Europe to try and write a novel. He holed up in youth hostels to keep his expenses down. He had been living in this room for three months, tapping away on his laptop, with his papers and plastic bags full of stuff all over the floor. One of those crazy people you occasionally meet in hostels. It must have been a strange existence to have new room mates every night. In the basement as we cooked dinner (sausages, pizza and beer!), a school party of teenagers ran around screaming and listening to rave music.

The following morning, we crossed the city centre and found the Route 2 dual carriageway heading towards the Belarus border 170km away. The excellent road petered out into the usual two lane craziness of cars overtaking each other in the middle. More flat farmland with fields of oats and gradually the traffic got thinner. There were lots of storks nesting in villages at the top of telegraph poles with two, three and even four large black and white birds perched on huge nests of sticks. We filled up with petrol in the last town before the border.