Krakow - Hard To Be Happy Here
Trip Start
Mar 03, 2005
1
50
235
Trip End
Ongoing
Krakow,
Poland
Wednesday, July 13, 2005
My train trip from Slovakia through to Krakow goes through the Lower Tatra Range, and the bloody rain seems to be sitting behind the train all the way north with, as it is also drizzling upon my arrival in Krakow. It is not so great wandering round at 9pm with 25kgs and an umbrella, trying to jump on buses or trams, with only a 100 Zloty note in my pocket and no change for the machine, hoping the inspector doesn't get on.
Today's hostel update. Nice, but suburban. I can't seem to string all the variables together in one go on my own to get a good place to stay. This one feels more half-way house than prison.
A fine morning greats me for the trek out to Auschwitz I and Auschwitz II Birkenau. It is hardly a trip to be excited about, but it is certainly something that I want to experience or learn more about. Still, many of those on the buses seem to be in a jovial mood. I guess its because they are on holidays, but it hardly seems a day to be jovial, when you are going out to see concentration camps that killed around 1,500,000 people.
There is a certain irony that is not lost on me, and I don't say this as a trivial joke. Here we are 60 years later, packed on a bus, off to see a concentration camp. I didn't have the heart to go there via train, the means of transportation for the condemned people in WWII.
It is a difficult place to write about. The 1950 kilograms of hair in a display room, removed from the gassed bodies of women prior to cremation so it could be sent to textile factories in Germany to make fabric (it was discovered, ready to be transported when the camp was liberated). The thousands of children shoes piled up in another display room. Tens of thousands of combs, brushes and toothbrushes in another. The photos on the walls don't really humanise this place, as they are grainy and only a few were taken by the SS for display to leaders in Berlin. But 1950 kilograms of human hair certainly does.
I did find however that I wanted to punch the lights out of a number of people there. I've always said that you should never over-estimate the intelligence of the general public, and it has never been a more true statement than when you go to Auschwitz. I can not comprehend what makes people think it is acceptable to chat while you are standing in a gas chamber, to take family happy-snaps next to the entrance sign ("Arbeit Macht Frei" - Work Sets You Free), to sit on the rows of concrete holes that were toilets for inmates, or to peer into them at close range (I almost said to one man "Are you expecting to see shit in there after 60 years?"), or to bring in children who run around the grounds yelling and laughing. They don't not seem to understand nor respect where they are.
Auschwitz I is smaller than Auschwitz II-Birkanau, and to a certain extent doesn't give the same impact as Birkanau. The first thing you see when you arrive at Auschwitz I is the car park and buses. Then the Bar. Then the entrance room with Cafe and Snacks. Then the Ticket Box. You almost expect to see the Rollercoaster, Mad Mouse, Gravitron and Octopus rides around the corner. Then you are shuffled through the main entrance building out into the courtyard and through the Camp's entrance gate (smile for the camera people) to the Blocks of buildings. The sheer number of tourists, their noise and inconsiderate behaviour makes it almost difficult to comprehend where you are. I tried to compare it to walking around Tuol Sleng Prison in Phnom Penh (where you are almost alone and being guided by a local who's family were killed by the Khmer Rouge), but that really is a pointless comparison.
Going to Birkanau involves a short bus ride from Auschwitz I. The size of the Camp is extraordinary, and thus the space involved between you and the rest of the tourists means it impacts on you more - over 100,000 people were kept here at a time. It was horrendous, yet horribly well-organised by the Nazis.
That one and a half million people were killed here is impossible for the mind to comprehend. That all those who were visiting here could not respect the surroundings by simply shutting up and quietly contemplating how lucky they might be to be alive now, is simply mind-numbing.
I returned to Krakow to meet up with one-half of the South African dynamic duo. Jen's brother Simon had returned to Cape Town earlier that day. We grabbed a slice of pizza to chew the fat as they say, about how it is not so easy to lose a travelling partner along the way, the ups and downs of solo travel, and general troubles that you may be facing on your own. Jen's a good listener, and a good talker. Once again she is staying in a cooler hostel than me. Once again I spend more time at a hostel that I'm not actually staying in, than in my own.
Hanging out there with her I met some other good people, so while Jen toddled off to bed early as she is heading off to some other place in the morning, I headed out for a couple of quiet drinks with some more new folks, who seem confused when I tell them I am actually staying somewhere else. In the end I spent a good week or more at various stages catching up with Jen and Simon. A little bit more time than the usual three hours over a tour or beer then heading off in different directions, like with most people. I like them, as although they are 19 and 21 respectively they don't spend their time 24/7 getting horribly pissed and sleeping all day and missing out on the fact that they are in some far flung land with things to do and see - I also still like them even though they don't think they have Sewth Efrikan accents, when they actually do....
After a compulsory change of hostel in the morning (the 'full house' sign was up) I wandered off looking for a bike tour for Krakow. I only have one full day in the city, so in order to try to cover most sights, I thought it was the best way to go.
I was right. John, the affable Floridorian (um, he's from Florida) was hugely informative, intelligent and good-humoured. He was highly un-Eastern European, if that makes sense, as most tourist related service people here don't seem to give a shit. It was a good group of Aussies, Dutch and others, although two Irish girls, who hadn't ridden bikes for ten years were a little shaky. Prior to even peddling once, one of them rolled the bike out of the shop and crashed straight into a parked car out the front. "Its just like riding a bike...." said John.
The tour took us past the glorious Wawel Castle, the old Town Square (which while touristy is pretty), and into the old Jewish Quarter. The tales told were actually interesting without over-cooking your brain with statistics like most tours. We rolled back to the Town Square in time for the 3pm trumpet call from St Mary's Church, then through the streets of Krakow to the old Jewish Cemetary. We rode to the area of the Jewish Ghetto in WWII, where tens of thousands were crammed into 320 houses prior to being sent to camps, or killed on the spot. That particular suburb remains a modern 'Ghetto' now - as described by John, it is not a desirable place to live, with lower class housing, and violent crime prominent. Well at least we were on bikes and had a quick getaway option....
Oscar Schindler's factory (he of "Schindler's List" fame) is still in that area, and we visited. Apparently we were fortunate, as it is closed to the public for 50 weeks a year, but was open for us to look in. There isn't much to see apart from the stairs and office where Liam Neeson peered down from in the film.
As with all good tours in Europe (and all bad ones for that matter), we drank beer afterwards.
