Poland and the Baltic States

A self guided rail and road trip heading to Russia. October 2017

Warsaw, Poland, has a significant number of early-morning beer drinkers - but unlike Berlin, Polish ones are seated in warm cafes, fully integrated with breakfast diners. Beer is a 24-hour staple, and vodka shots cost about $1NZ. Ergo, the nightly street party near our apartment went on until 5.00 or 6.00am every morning – lawd knows how those folks get any work done! 

We dutifully tripped around the city, visiting the beautiful old town and wandering the banks of the river. It is hard to imagine how the innocent, sugared-almond coloured buildings once concealed the horrors of the infamous Warsaw ghetto. During WWII, hundreds of thousands of Polish Jews were kept in cramped and starving conditions behind the genteel pastel facades. The ghetto was so crowded that it was common for multiple families to live in one apartment – one door bell read: “For xxx family, ring once. For xxx family, ring twice”. At the bottom of a list of 6 families it read, “If you are a German Solider, knock hard 6 times - using your head”.  Seriously dark humour, given that a staggering 90% of Polish Jews (being 20% of all Jews) were murdered by the Nazis.  

Krakow, a pleasant train ride away, was quaint and swarming with tourists, one of whom unfortunately stood out. She was an American-Chinese woman who had the absolute worst non-listening, always-talking-really-loudly-but-saying-nothing habits of both cultures. She quirkily carried with her a dirty old stuffed toy, which she had adorably photographed at every place she had been. Our gentle Polish ex-miner guide was forced to endure a ridiculous number of photos she had taken of said stuffed toy during our trip down the mines…  “and here is (whatever the f*#k its name was) in EuroDisney, and here he is at the Eifel Tower, and here he is in Auswitch….  Auswitch?! Who does that? 

The salt mines here are pretty speccy. With over 2000 chambers, 40 cathedrals and 300km of tunnel, the hollowed out ground below Krakow is larger than the town itself! Everything in the mines is made of salt - including the giant chandeliers that hang in magnificent ballrooms- and has been so since 1290. Really old salt.  

We enjoyed the local Polish breakfasts which included pickled mushrooms, pickled fish and vodka shots. No kidding, these guys start the day the way they mean to carry on. While having a morning coffee in a town square edged with umbrellered outdoor cafes, we watched a couple of EU MAMILs out for an early morning ride. They cycled into the square, locked their bikes to the gates and sat down to a litre of beer and a cigarette or two before returning to their ‘exercise’.  

Currently touring the Baltic States, and hugely disappointed that our car is not a rattling Russian Lada, or a war-era Fiat. Still, driving around is a very pleasant way to enjoy the forests and farms between tiny villages. Thin, northern trees are turning autumnly festive, and the outrageous number of churches with their extraordinary bell-towers make for lovely scenery. Sadly, no sign yet of the bear and assorted furry creatures that are said to live amongst the trees. We remain watchful and optimistic. 

The Baltic area seems to have lurched from one unwanted occupation to another - mostly by Russians with the odd Swedish or Prussian takeover. Each major town has an entire museum dedicated to the horrors of the KGB, who either shot or exported thousands to Siberia. Several of the town centres are mediaeval in age (1200AD+), complete with thick stone walls, crazily uneven cobblestones and central wells, in which (during medieval times) unknown numbers of cats were drowned to keep away the ghosts. The resulting dirth of rat-catchers meant the plague was left to rampage unchecked. Even the long bird-like masks they wore couldn’t protect folks, and villages were utterly devasted. Karma? I think so.  

The country side is utterly charming in a truly chocolate-box fashion – tall poles are crowned with large stork nests, and wooden houses are of the gingerbread variety. The town outskirts however, are monoliths to Soviet Russia. Large grey, or dull orange-painted concrete towers with few windows are the norm for most folks. People walk or cycle about their business, clad from head to toe in long puffer jackets – it’s not just Wellington! I refuse to accept this as Eastern European-chic however, as there are knee-high white baggy leather boots in the shop windows. They were never a good look, not even on ABBA. 

Unfortunately, we have both picked up the current Euro-lurg, and have been quite sick for the past week. Being below par, I also developed a case of conjunctivitis (alluring I know). My point is, try requesting eye-drops for conjunctivitis in Estonian – it took all our miming skills! 

A few more days in the Baltics and we head for Russia. Have thoroughly researched the various champagnes and caviars – will let you know how they stack up! 

Restaurant promo of the day (Poland): Arrive hungry, leave drunk.