Unexpected Kraków

October 12-14

We arrived in Kraków as the sun was going down, so as we made our way from the central station to our hotel, we got to see the city light up around us. Neither of us quite knew what to expect in Kraków--Calvin has had the famous Wieliczka Salt Mine on his bucket list for years, and I knew my cousin Calen loved the city when she visited as a teenager, but beyond that we didn't have much to go on. As we walked the busy streets, both of us instantly fell in love.

It's hard to explain what we both responded to so quickly--was it the beautiful facades? The people, both locals and visitors, creating the perfect level of energy in the streets? The performers in the main square? I suppose it was a combination of all these things. Kraków was spared the bombing that faced many other Polish cities in WWII thanks to an 800 year history with Germany that Hitler used to fuel his propaganda--essentially, he claimed that the reason Kraków was so great was because Germans immigrated there after the Mongol invasion in the 1200s. This horrific justification helped preserve the city almost in its entirety, and today it is known as one of the few truly medieval cities still standing in Central Europe. This means that the city features architecture from pretty much every major European era--gothic, renaissance, neoclassical, and beyond. The main square in the center of Old Town is huge and lined with cafes, restaurants, and performers of all varieties. The center of the square includes an old marketplace, still lined with stalls that now feature souvenirs rather than food and goods. Our hotel sat right on the edge of this square, and that first night we instantly knew how well-placed we were to explore the city.

Now I'm going to pause for a minute and talk about the wonder that is pierogis. You may remember that we had pierogis in Bratislava--this was just the first taste of something that became an obsession for me in Poland. Our first night in Kraków, we wandered around to find dinner and stumbled into a Ukrainian restaurant. It turns out that pretty much every region of Central to Eastern Europe has their own variation on the pierogi. While they might seem like any standard dumpling, there was something magical about each of the pierogis I had on our trip, and each night we were in Poland we found ourselves looking for the same thing--pierogis for me, soup for Cal, vodka for both of us.

On our first morning in Kraków we joined a walking tour that took us through the Old Town and featured Polish history and culture. Our tour guide was extremely knowledgeable and added a full half-hour to our 2.5 hour tour just by telling additional stories along the way. One of our favorite stops on the tour was just steps away from our hotel at St. Mary's Basilica in the square. Every hour on the hour, a bugler plays the Hejnał from the top of the basilica, mimicking the call they would make to signal the opening of the city gate. The bugler makes their way around the top of the tower, playing out of each of the windows. You can hear the song in the video below, and may notice the quick, uneventful end to the tune. The story goes that when the Mongols invaded the city in 1241, the bugler started the Hejnał to call for the closing of the gate, but was shot through the throat with an arrow before he could finish. In his honor, the buglers today all end the piece in its distinctive place. (This story is, in fact, a lie, and comes from an American book from the 1920s called "The Trumpeter of Kraków". Still, sometimes the lie makes a better legend than the truth, which is that the call ends abruptly because it should be taken on by the next bugler down the wall, creating a chain of calls to show the whole city is aware of the threat from beyond.)

After lunch an a nap back at the hotel, we journeyed back out to find dinner. We walked all around the city, stopping in a pub for a "Mad Dog Shot" (raspberry syrup, vodka, and tabasco, meant to mimic the Polish flag), and eventually finding our way to more pierogis and soup. Wandering around the city at night is so lovely, and felt oddly comfortable, considering neither of us speak the language or know the culture very well. Some European cities can feel intimidating and overly sophisticated; others can feel intimidating in their post-Soviet grittiness. Kraków felt like neither. We felt welcome as tourists, but also as if tourists were not the only people around. It felt like we were really stepping into the city as it is.

And I almost forgot about the spontaneous dance party! While we were walking back from dinner, we walked past a group of people in the square and heard loud dance music playing. The crowd was all looking towards a figure in the front and following along, but it was difficult to see what was happening until we got closer. There was a man--probably in his 50s or so--dressed as a sea captain, leading the crowd in dance. It was completely infectious and before long Cal and I were a part of the crew! It was really hard to capture in video, but I tried my best. Mind you, this was Monday night--not Saturday or a big night for going out or anything. Just another fabulous, magical moment on the streets of Kraków.

The next morning we decided to revisit St. Mary's so we could see inside the famous basilica. As I mentioned before, Kraków is significant because so much is original. This church is one such example. The nave features an original gothic alter, which is unusual because so many Catholic cathedrals redid their interiors along the centuries with baroque design or, tragically, had to rebuild after bombings in the war. When you see the alter, it becomes clear why this one was preserved so continuously over the years, even when some wanted to replace it. We were able to see the ceremonial opening of the alter that morning, which I captured in the video below. It is hard to explain the true majesty of the artwork, even as someone who is not Catholic. The figures are life-size and beautifully gilded, and I can say my jaw actually dropped when the alter was opened.

That afternoon, we made our visit to the Wieliczka Salt Mine, which is a short train ride out of Kraków. It is one of the oldest operating salt mines in the world, having started production all the way back in the 1600s. Our tour took us down 130 meters below the earth, through the top 3 chambers of the 9 chamber mine. We had to climb down over 800 steps throughout the tour, but luckily had an elevator ride back to the surface at the end. One of the distinctive features of the salt mine is how the miners created chapels throughout the mine to worship at the beginning and end of their shifts. There are 80 chapels in the complex, though only a few are still open to the public. The most famous of these is the St. Kinga Chapel, named for the legend surrounding the mine. The story goes that Kinga, a Hungarian princess, was engaged to a prince of Kraków, and wished that there could be salt mines in Poland like the mines she had back home, which brought wealth to her people. She made this wish and threw her engagement ring into the mine near her home before setting out for Kraków. When she arrived, she ordered her men to dig. They found a large lump of salt, inside of which was King's ring! She is now the patron saint of salt miners, and is the namesake of the beautiful cathedral, which is entirely carved from salt.

When we once again emerged above the surface, we returned to Kraków for dinner (pierogis, soup, and vodka) before our night train to Prague. I will tell more about that adventure in the next post, but for now I hope I have captured how much we truly loved our time in Kraków, and how we are excited to return again someday. It was our most unexpected excitement so far, and reminds me that sometimes having no expectations allows us to truly open up to the possibilities of a place.