Maitai's Central (Don't Call It Eastern) European Excursion
Aug 5th, 2008, 08:59 PM
#101
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Tom, you and Tracy are invited to dinner any time you're in my neck of the woods (Dallas/Ft Worth)! Please don't disappoint me- I really need as much entertainment as I can get. 
And I'll supply the pivo...
And I'll supply the pivo...
Aug 6th, 2008, 12:30 PM
#102
Original Poster
Shandy - thanks for the info on Na Hradě. We really liked that place, and yes, those cellars are terrific.
Irishface - I might just do that, although it might make War and Peace seem small by the time I end.
And sarge, you never know when Tracy and I might just show up for a pivo, so have that Urquell ready.
More later today (he said hopefully).
Thanks.
Irishface - I might just do that, although it might make War and Peace seem small by the time I end.
And sarge, you never know when Tracy and I might just show up for a pivo, so have that Urquell ready.
More later today (he said hopefully).
Thanks.
Aug 6th, 2008, 03:42 PM
#103
Original Poster
<b>DAY EIGHT – CRACOWDAYS, A SHOT OF COUGH SYRUP PLEASE, HERE COMES THE BRIDE, WHERE DID THE OLD PEOPLE GO AND HIP TO BE (AT THE) SQUARE </b>
We were up at seven and were greeted by a young man in the lobby of the Na Hradě, who was setting up a breakfast buffet. There was cereal, lunchmeats, cheese, sausage links, delicious pastries and he made us some very good egg dishes. Yes, this was breakfast heaven.
I asked Tracy why she didn’t do this for me every day, and she replied, “Because I work harder than you do.” You can forget a lot in just one week of traveling.
By 8:30 we were on the road to Kraków after filling up with Diesel (you can’t fool us every trip). It only took us a little more than three hours to drive to Kraków and our home for the next four nights (for almost all of us), the Cracowdays Apartments.
After parking on the street (and deftly avoiding every pole and Pole), we walked up to a set of big doors. There was graffiti in the area, but we had stayed in Trastevere before, so we are not quick to judge a book by its cover.
After meeting the Cracowdays’ folks at their office, they took us to our rooms, which were very nice, and there was also internet in the hallway for the guests. The rooms are very secure, the beds comfortable, the showers good, and we enjoyed our stay here.
The Cracowdays Apartments are located only about a ten-minute walk to Rynek Glówny, the largest medieval town square in Europe. The sky was a beautiful blue (as just about all our days had been so far) and the square was bustling with people, both walking and being taken around town by horse-drawn carriages. There were also lots of booths selling wares and many pork, food items.
At the time, I remember thinking how young the population looked. It would be a reoccurring theme.
Another reoccurring theme was this group’s capacity to eat…and eat often. Kim and Mary went off to find some food (Kim was forever searching for pig on a stick, and this was certainly a place to find one).
Tracy and I plopped down at a table overlooking Rynek Glówny. I was in my “when in Rome” mode, so when the waitress asked for my beverage choice, I immediately said, “Wódka.” In fact, I ordered cherry vodka.
“Yuck! It tastes like cough syrup,” Tracy said
Robitussin, straight up, baby!
The restaurant was named Grill 15/16, and when I ordered my second vodka, Tracy said, “Just because the name of the restaurant is 15/16 doesn’t mean you have to drink 15 or 16 vodkas.”
Boy, what a spoilsport.
As we sat there, the sound of a lone bugler started up from one of Kościół Mariacki’s (St. Mary’s Church) towers. Like an unfinished symphony, the song abruptly ends.
Tracy reminded me about the legend of the town watchman who sounded an alarm to warn Krakówians of an impending Tatar invasion. Unfortunately, for the town watchman, as he played the bugle a Tatar arrow zipped though his neck, thus prematurely ending his song.
Today, the bugle can be heard every hour, and believe me, you hear it from just about anywhere.
Lunch was fine, and we met back up with Kim and Mary to take a stroll though old Kraków. We began at the Barbakan, the town’s old fortification, and walked through the Brama Floriańska (Florian Gate).
We walked a few blocks down Ulica Florianska to the large St. Mary’s Church. Tickets to go inside are purchased across the alley. The interior of the church is very lovely, and we spent about 20 minutes or so wandering through it.
Another thing we noticed during our first few hours in Krakow, besides its youthful population, was that virtually no one was speaking English (although most of the Kraków locals we met certainly could). As a matter of fact, we had run into very few Americans so far on the trip.
We then walked by St. Adalbert’s, the oldest church in Krakow.
In the middle of the square is the Sukiennice or cloth hall, which was once a place where traveling merchants met. Today, it is a place where traveling vacationers can pick up a gift that nobody will really ever want.
Since Kim only had one more full day here, the group pressed on. We walked down Ulica Bracka, which to me sounded like one of “The Godfather’s” hired killers. But instead, this church led us to a man of the cloth, none other than Kraków’s favorite son (or I guess that would be father), Pope John-Paul II.
We stopped into Bazylika Sw. Franciszka (St Francis Basilica), which was John-Paul’s home church when he served as archbishop of Kraków, and then headed over to Grodzka Street, or as I called it Kebob Street. It seemed like you could get a kabob in every shop, but amazingly no one was hungry.
We walked down to Mary Magdalene Square, and thought we would look inside the The Church of Saints Peter and Paul. There was lots of construction in the area, and by the time we started heading in the direction of the church, out came a beaming bride and groom (well, the groom looked a little shaken).
We waited for them to all exit and then took a quick look inside. When we got out, and after trying to get in the wedding pictures, I started to cross the street.
“Where are you going?” Kim said.
“St. Andrews,” I replied.
Kim quickly retorted, “Well, you forgot your clubs.” I started counting the hours to his departure.
We wandered many of the arteries off the Rynek Gløwny and on one of them spotted a little Italian restaurant, Del Papa. We made a reservation for later that evening, and went back to Cracowdays to freshen up.
Back at Cracowdays, I ran into one of the managers who had helped set up the reservation with me, and she was just as nice in person as she had been in all our email correspondence. She apologized for the graffiti in the area, and since she did not look like a tagger, I told her she had no reason to apologize.
The area was not sketchy at all, with plenty of restaurants and shops lining the street leading back our street where the apartments were located. At no time did we feel unsafe, and I would highly recommend this as a place to stay.
On our walk to Del Papa that evening, we all commented on the youthful locals of Krakow. “Where did they put all the old people?” Mary joked.
I replied, “Maybe that Cesky Krumlov tour guide turned them all into giant pods, and they came back as young people.”
Kim was now counting the hours to his departure.
It was on to Del Papa. We had a very lovely, young, redheaded waitress, and Kim uttered his favorite line, “You know, she is felony cute.”
I had to remind Kim that anything he thought about her might also be construed as a felony, and we moved on to dinner.
The dishes at this restaurant were terrific as was, once again on our trip, the plating. I had tomato soup that was served in a bowl with basil lining the bottom, and the actual soup was poured from a teapot.
Tracy’s velvety, green pea soup was also poured from a teapot over a mound of pancetta and dill. Although Tracy said it looked lovely, green pea soup always reminds me of “The Exorcist.” I turned away before my head started spinning around.
All the dishes from ravioli stuffed with veal and mushroom sauce to a beef filet with balsamic reduction on a bed of arugula to gnocchi with gorgonzola cream sauce to grilled salmon with roasted shallots and balsamic reduction were delicious. Oh yeah, I topped it off with a nice panecotta and strawberries.
After Del Papa, we walked over to the square, which was packed on this Saturday night (and I’m guessing every Saturday night). Outside of us and a few other rumpled tourists, everyone on the square was young and good looking, with no one looking more than 35-years-old.
“Maybe there’s something to your pod theory,” Tracy said.
Kim and Mary walked back to the apartment, while Tracy and I made a quick stop at the Metropolitan Restauracja, where I am sure you are shocked to read we had a martini nightcap. The Metropolitan also was supposed to have a good breakfast, and we put that in our mental notes.
The next day would be Kim’s final full day in Kraków, and tomorrow would also be the day we made another interesting (well, I guess you’ll be the judge of that) observation about the local residents.
<b>COMING UP - DAY NINE – THE INCREDIBLE SHRINKING MAN, FOOLS ON THE HILL, MY LEGS ARE DRAGON, GOT MILK, FREE ART AND OUR POLL OF POLES </b>
We were up at seven and were greeted by a young man in the lobby of the Na Hradě, who was setting up a breakfast buffet. There was cereal, lunchmeats, cheese, sausage links, delicious pastries and he made us some very good egg dishes. Yes, this was breakfast heaven.
I asked Tracy why she didn’t do this for me every day, and she replied, “Because I work harder than you do.” You can forget a lot in just one week of traveling.
By 8:30 we were on the road to Kraków after filling up with Diesel (you can’t fool us every trip). It only took us a little more than three hours to drive to Kraków and our home for the next four nights (for almost all of us), the Cracowdays Apartments.
After parking on the street (and deftly avoiding every pole and Pole), we walked up to a set of big doors. There was graffiti in the area, but we had stayed in Trastevere before, so we are not quick to judge a book by its cover.
After meeting the Cracowdays’ folks at their office, they took us to our rooms, which were very nice, and there was also internet in the hallway for the guests. The rooms are very secure, the beds comfortable, the showers good, and we enjoyed our stay here.
The Cracowdays Apartments are located only about a ten-minute walk to Rynek Glówny, the largest medieval town square in Europe. The sky was a beautiful blue (as just about all our days had been so far) and the square was bustling with people, both walking and being taken around town by horse-drawn carriages. There were also lots of booths selling wares and many pork, food items.
At the time, I remember thinking how young the population looked. It would be a reoccurring theme.
Another reoccurring theme was this group’s capacity to eat…and eat often. Kim and Mary went off to find some food (Kim was forever searching for pig on a stick, and this was certainly a place to find one).
Tracy and I plopped down at a table overlooking Rynek Glówny. I was in my “when in Rome” mode, so when the waitress asked for my beverage choice, I immediately said, “Wódka.” In fact, I ordered cherry vodka.
“Yuck! It tastes like cough syrup,” Tracy said
Robitussin, straight up, baby!
The restaurant was named Grill 15/16, and when I ordered my second vodka, Tracy said, “Just because the name of the restaurant is 15/16 doesn’t mean you have to drink 15 or 16 vodkas.”
Boy, what a spoilsport.
As we sat there, the sound of a lone bugler started up from one of Kościół Mariacki’s (St. Mary’s Church) towers. Like an unfinished symphony, the song abruptly ends.
Tracy reminded me about the legend of the town watchman who sounded an alarm to warn Krakówians of an impending Tatar invasion. Unfortunately, for the town watchman, as he played the bugle a Tatar arrow zipped though his neck, thus prematurely ending his song.
Today, the bugle can be heard every hour, and believe me, you hear it from just about anywhere.
Lunch was fine, and we met back up with Kim and Mary to take a stroll though old Kraków. We began at the Barbakan, the town’s old fortification, and walked through the Brama Floriańska (Florian Gate).
We walked a few blocks down Ulica Florianska to the large St. Mary’s Church. Tickets to go inside are purchased across the alley. The interior of the church is very lovely, and we spent about 20 minutes or so wandering through it.
Another thing we noticed during our first few hours in Krakow, besides its youthful population, was that virtually no one was speaking English (although most of the Kraków locals we met certainly could). As a matter of fact, we had run into very few Americans so far on the trip.
We then walked by St. Adalbert’s, the oldest church in Krakow.
In the middle of the square is the Sukiennice or cloth hall, which was once a place where traveling merchants met. Today, it is a place where traveling vacationers can pick up a gift that nobody will really ever want.
Since Kim only had one more full day here, the group pressed on. We walked down Ulica Bracka, which to me sounded like one of “The Godfather’s” hired killers. But instead, this church led us to a man of the cloth, none other than Kraków’s favorite son (or I guess that would be father), Pope John-Paul II.
We stopped into Bazylika Sw. Franciszka (St Francis Basilica), which was John-Paul’s home church when he served as archbishop of Kraków, and then headed over to Grodzka Street, or as I called it Kebob Street. It seemed like you could get a kabob in every shop, but amazingly no one was hungry.
We walked down to Mary Magdalene Square, and thought we would look inside the The Church of Saints Peter and Paul. There was lots of construction in the area, and by the time we started heading in the direction of the church, out came a beaming bride and groom (well, the groom looked a little shaken).
We waited for them to all exit and then took a quick look inside. When we got out, and after trying to get in the wedding pictures, I started to cross the street.
“Where are you going?” Kim said.
“St. Andrews,” I replied.
Kim quickly retorted, “Well, you forgot your clubs.” I started counting the hours to his departure.
We wandered many of the arteries off the Rynek Gløwny and on one of them spotted a little Italian restaurant, Del Papa. We made a reservation for later that evening, and went back to Cracowdays to freshen up.
Back at Cracowdays, I ran into one of the managers who had helped set up the reservation with me, and she was just as nice in person as she had been in all our email correspondence. She apologized for the graffiti in the area, and since she did not look like a tagger, I told her she had no reason to apologize.
The area was not sketchy at all, with plenty of restaurants and shops lining the street leading back our street where the apartments were located. At no time did we feel unsafe, and I would highly recommend this as a place to stay.
On our walk to Del Papa that evening, we all commented on the youthful locals of Krakow. “Where did they put all the old people?” Mary joked.
I replied, “Maybe that Cesky Krumlov tour guide turned them all into giant pods, and they came back as young people.”
Kim was now counting the hours to his departure.
It was on to Del Papa. We had a very lovely, young, redheaded waitress, and Kim uttered his favorite line, “You know, she is felony cute.”
I had to remind Kim that anything he thought about her might also be construed as a felony, and we moved on to dinner.
The dishes at this restaurant were terrific as was, once again on our trip, the plating. I had tomato soup that was served in a bowl with basil lining the bottom, and the actual soup was poured from a teapot.
Tracy’s velvety, green pea soup was also poured from a teapot over a mound of pancetta and dill. Although Tracy said it looked lovely, green pea soup always reminds me of “The Exorcist.” I turned away before my head started spinning around.
All the dishes from ravioli stuffed with veal and mushroom sauce to a beef filet with balsamic reduction on a bed of arugula to gnocchi with gorgonzola cream sauce to grilled salmon with roasted shallots and balsamic reduction were delicious. Oh yeah, I topped it off with a nice panecotta and strawberries.
After Del Papa, we walked over to the square, which was packed on this Saturday night (and I’m guessing every Saturday night). Outside of us and a few other rumpled tourists, everyone on the square was young and good looking, with no one looking more than 35-years-old.
“Maybe there’s something to your pod theory,” Tracy said.
Kim and Mary walked back to the apartment, while Tracy and I made a quick stop at the Metropolitan Restauracja, where I am sure you are shocked to read we had a martini nightcap. The Metropolitan also was supposed to have a good breakfast, and we put that in our mental notes.
The next day would be Kim’s final full day in Kraków, and tomorrow would also be the day we made another interesting (well, I guess you’ll be the judge of that) observation about the local residents.
<b>COMING UP - DAY NINE – THE INCREDIBLE SHRINKING MAN, FOOLS ON THE HILL, MY LEGS ARE DRAGON, GOT MILK, FREE ART AND OUR POLL OF POLES </b>
Aug 6th, 2008, 03:59 PM
#104
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Tom,
I agree with the others, you should put al your reports into one book.
Also, you have had some great lines in all your reports. But I think my new favorite was in todays
"And after parking the car (and deftly avoiding every pole and Pole)" Too funny. I look forward to more sir.
Tom
I agree with the others, you should put al your reports into one book.
Also, you have had some great lines in all your reports. But I think my new favorite was in todays
"And after parking the car (and deftly avoiding every pole and Pole)" Too funny. I look forward to more sir.
Tom
Aug 6th, 2008, 06:13 PM
#105
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Tom, terrific report, as always, thank you!
Appreciate the report on Del Papa in Krakow since it's on our list for our Christmas trip.
http://www.delpapa.pl/
Appreciate the report on Del Papa in Krakow since it's on our list for our Christmas trip.
http://www.delpapa.pl/
Aug 7th, 2008, 07:49 AM
#106
Original Poster
"Appreciate the report on Del Papa in Krakow..."
That hot soup will taste very good on a cold Kraków night. I would suggest you make reservations when you get in town, as it got very crowded as the evening progressed.
That hot soup will taste very good on a cold Kraków night. I would suggest you make reservations when you get in town, as it got very crowded as the evening progressed.
Aug 11th, 2008, 02:52 PM
#107
Original Poster
No, I'm not dead yet.
<b>DAY NINE – THE INCREDIBLE SHRINKING MAN, FOOLS ON THE HILL, MY LEGS ARE DRAGON, GOT MILK, FREE ART AND OUR POLL OF POLES </b>
As you have read, we (and especially me, the dessert king) had done a lot of eating the past week. For many months before the trip, I had been on the Jenny Craig diet (well, the modified Jenny Craig, which includes martinis, mai tais and the occasional chocolate flourless cake that Jenny doesn’t tell anyone about in her literature).
I had lost a little more than 30 pounds, so before the trip I had to get some new travel clothes because I was down two sizes from nine months before.
Well, when I tried on my new “Svelte Pants” on this beautiful Kraków Sunday morning, I came to a quick realization. “I think I’m dying,” I told Tracy.
Even though I had eaten like a pig for the last week, my new pants were now almost too big. I was shrinking like that guy in the movie. By the time that we reached Croatia, I surmised, I would be small enough to be eaten by a Dubrovnik mosquito.
Even Tracy was amazed. When we told Kim and Mary about my pants (on the way to finding some breakfast), Mary said, “Maybe you’re losing weight because we are walking ten miles a day.” I think she was still a little miffed over the first day in Prague.
To try and bulk up, we had some croissants, jelly filled pastries and some great espresso at a little place just about a block off Rynek Glówny. We were then on our way to walking up to Wawel Hill, home to more tourists than any other sight in Poland.
Before we hit Wawel Hill, however, I told the gang I wanted to stop at the Bar Mleczny. Looking at her watch, Tracy asked, “Isn’t it a tad too early for a drink?”
I said, “No, but don’t worry this is a milk bar.” I just wanted to stop in to see the place where Poles and tourists alike can get a cheap meal. The milk bars are supposedly subsidized by the Polish government. It was the cheapest bottled water we bought on the entire trip.
We walked through the Heraldic Gate and passed Wawel Cathedral. We couldn’t go in to the cathedral until 12:30 because they were having Sunday Mass, so we toured the beautiful grounds and took pictures of the unique exterior of the cathedral, with its two domed chapels.
After wandering around the grounds, we saw the entrance to Smocza Jama (The Dragon’s Den), a route that (for 3 zloty) would take us through some caverns down to the Vistula River and the monument to Smok Wawelski, whose name sounds like a jazz musician, but is really a famous dragon in Polish folk history.
Supposedly this dragon liked devouring girls and was only happy if the townspeople left a young girl in front of the cave every month. This didn’t go over too well with the townspeople, especially, I would assume, young girls. Finally, some guy stuffed a lamb with sulpher and left it outside the cave.
Smok the not-so-magic dragon ate the lamb, which, of course, made him thirsty. No matter how much water the Smokmeister drank, he could not get full, so he started to drink from the river. After drinking about half the river, Smok did what most dragons do after drinking half a river…he exploded. Coincidentally, I felt the same way after my panecotta from the night before.
After 135 steps down to see the dragon monument, we were a little draggin’ ourselves, but we made it and were instantly approached by a beautiful Krakówian woman. I thought she was going to commend me on my new, buff body, but instead she started shilling for a boat ride on the river. Being the tourists that we are, we took her up on the offer.
Actually, since it was a hot day and there was still an hour until the cathedral opened, the boat ride turned out to be the perfect call.
By the time the boat ride ended, and we walked up to the entrance of the cathedral, it was 12:18. Why do I know that? Because there was no one yet in line for the cathedral, which seemed odd to us, I asked the girl at the entrance if it opened to the public at 12:30, and she said, “Yes, it will open in ten minutes.”
In five minutes the line that had been non-existent only minutes before had swelled to way more than 100. Once again our timing had been impeccable (and fortuitous).
If you are into Baroque memorials and tombs, Wawel Cathedral is your place. Kasmimierz the Great and St. Jadwiga are two of the tombs with a view here.
We walked around for about half an hour and then headed back toward Old Town, bought a Pope Paul Gold Coin and looked for a lunch spot, which we found a little off the main square. Across the street from the German Embassy, we lunched at The Tram Grill.
Although supposedly open at 1 p.m., no one was there to greet us and the area was roped off, but as soon as we arrived a head popped out, and we were shown to our table on the terrace. First we get the head of the line at the cathedral, and now the restaurant magically opens once we arrive.
After downing some goulash soup and salads, the group was back on its way to seeing more Kraków attractions like the Wyspianski Museum. We wanted to see some of the stained glass from the man who had created the stained glass in St. Francis Basilica.
Personally, I found this place to be boring. This is always the first symptom of “Museum Overload,” but that did not deter us from attempting to find the Muzeum Czartoryskich after leaving.
Guidebooks showed the museum would be closed by the time we arrived, but Kim really wanted to go, so we gave it a try. We had been lucky to be first at the cathedral and the restaurant opened for us, so maybe the museum would stay open late for us since we were on a Kraków roll.
Well, not only was it open; it was free on Sunday. This museum was supposed to house a Rembrandt and a Da Vinci, but only Da Vinci’s Lady With Ermine was on display. Although not an art aficionado, I found this oil painting quite spectacular, as did the rest of our group.
By the time we left it was after 4 p.m., which means…martini time. We had walked by the Bunkier Café in the Planty with a nice outdoor patio, and it was the perfect place to plop down for a bit.
Being a product of the 60s, I had to try a drink made from Vodka, Blue Curacao and limeade called The Aquarius, and it certainly put me in the Fifth Dimension. The place was packed, and outside of us, there was no English to be heard anywhere.
As we downed our libations, Kim and I started commenting on the women of Kraków. We were very effusive with our praise of the statuesque beauties of Kraków, perhaps too much, because then Mary and Tracy started waxing eloquently about the men of Kraków.
In our very unofficial poll about Poles, although we are from the land of the beautiful people, Southern California; the real beautiful people were right here in Kraków. I told Kim, if were 30 and single, this would be a nice place to live.
We needed a little nap before dinner, and then headed out to the Bodega Marqués at Slawkowska 12. Since Kim and Mary had just built a house in Bodega Bay, California, we thought the kismet of the thing would work…and it did.
It was a gorgeous, warm evening, so we dined on the street patio. The waitress took me to the back cellar to pick out some vino for the evening, a 2004 Sumarroca Syrlot (a Spanish Syrah/Merlot blend that was so good that we had to buy two bottles).
The wine went very well with my Spanish sirloin steak with gorgonzola and roasted potato. Mary had a spiced chicken grilled with sliced roasted potatoes while Kim (Caesar salad with chicken) and Tracy (salad with goat cheese, bacon and pine nuts) took the healthy route.
After a walk around the square, Kim and Mary took off for the apartment, while Tracy and I headed back to the Metropolitan for (in unison) a nightcap. An espresso martini and a Polish cocktail of cherry vodka and grapefruit juice later, we followed them back to the apartment.
Tomorrow, we would bid farewell to our friend Kim, yet Mary, Tracy and I had two full days together left in Kraków. As I drifted off to sleep, I thought, “What could one guy do with two women?” Hmmm.
<b>COMING UP - DAY NINE – GOODBYE KIM, GIVE ME YOUR DIRTY LAUNDRY, JEWISH QUARTER & THE NEW MRS. MAITAI, “YOU CAN’T GO UP THERE” AND THE GIRL FROM IPANEMA </b>
<b>DAY NINE – THE INCREDIBLE SHRINKING MAN, FOOLS ON THE HILL, MY LEGS ARE DRAGON, GOT MILK, FREE ART AND OUR POLL OF POLES </b>
As you have read, we (and especially me, the dessert king) had done a lot of eating the past week. For many months before the trip, I had been on the Jenny Craig diet (well, the modified Jenny Craig, which includes martinis, mai tais and the occasional chocolate flourless cake that Jenny doesn’t tell anyone about in her literature).
I had lost a little more than 30 pounds, so before the trip I had to get some new travel clothes because I was down two sizes from nine months before.
Well, when I tried on my new “Svelte Pants” on this beautiful Kraków Sunday morning, I came to a quick realization. “I think I’m dying,” I told Tracy.
Even though I had eaten like a pig for the last week, my new pants were now almost too big. I was shrinking like that guy in the movie. By the time that we reached Croatia, I surmised, I would be small enough to be eaten by a Dubrovnik mosquito.
Even Tracy was amazed. When we told Kim and Mary about my pants (on the way to finding some breakfast), Mary said, “Maybe you’re losing weight because we are walking ten miles a day.” I think she was still a little miffed over the first day in Prague.
To try and bulk up, we had some croissants, jelly filled pastries and some great espresso at a little place just about a block off Rynek Glówny. We were then on our way to walking up to Wawel Hill, home to more tourists than any other sight in Poland.
Before we hit Wawel Hill, however, I told the gang I wanted to stop at the Bar Mleczny. Looking at her watch, Tracy asked, “Isn’t it a tad too early for a drink?”
I said, “No, but don’t worry this is a milk bar.” I just wanted to stop in to see the place where Poles and tourists alike can get a cheap meal. The milk bars are supposedly subsidized by the Polish government. It was the cheapest bottled water we bought on the entire trip.
We walked through the Heraldic Gate and passed Wawel Cathedral. We couldn’t go in to the cathedral until 12:30 because they were having Sunday Mass, so we toured the beautiful grounds and took pictures of the unique exterior of the cathedral, with its two domed chapels.
After wandering around the grounds, we saw the entrance to Smocza Jama (The Dragon’s Den), a route that (for 3 zloty) would take us through some caverns down to the Vistula River and the monument to Smok Wawelski, whose name sounds like a jazz musician, but is really a famous dragon in Polish folk history.
Supposedly this dragon liked devouring girls and was only happy if the townspeople left a young girl in front of the cave every month. This didn’t go over too well with the townspeople, especially, I would assume, young girls. Finally, some guy stuffed a lamb with sulpher and left it outside the cave.
Smok the not-so-magic dragon ate the lamb, which, of course, made him thirsty. No matter how much water the Smokmeister drank, he could not get full, so he started to drink from the river. After drinking about half the river, Smok did what most dragons do after drinking half a river…he exploded. Coincidentally, I felt the same way after my panecotta from the night before.
After 135 steps down to see the dragon monument, we were a little draggin’ ourselves, but we made it and were instantly approached by a beautiful Krakówian woman. I thought she was going to commend me on my new, buff body, but instead she started shilling for a boat ride on the river. Being the tourists that we are, we took her up on the offer.
Actually, since it was a hot day and there was still an hour until the cathedral opened, the boat ride turned out to be the perfect call.
By the time the boat ride ended, and we walked up to the entrance of the cathedral, it was 12:18. Why do I know that? Because there was no one yet in line for the cathedral, which seemed odd to us, I asked the girl at the entrance if it opened to the public at 12:30, and she said, “Yes, it will open in ten minutes.”
In five minutes the line that had been non-existent only minutes before had swelled to way more than 100. Once again our timing had been impeccable (and fortuitous).
If you are into Baroque memorials and tombs, Wawel Cathedral is your place. Kasmimierz the Great and St. Jadwiga are two of the tombs with a view here.
We walked around for about half an hour and then headed back toward Old Town, bought a Pope Paul Gold Coin and looked for a lunch spot, which we found a little off the main square. Across the street from the German Embassy, we lunched at The Tram Grill.
Although supposedly open at 1 p.m., no one was there to greet us and the area was roped off, but as soon as we arrived a head popped out, and we were shown to our table on the terrace. First we get the head of the line at the cathedral, and now the restaurant magically opens once we arrive.
After downing some goulash soup and salads, the group was back on its way to seeing more Kraków attractions like the Wyspianski Museum. We wanted to see some of the stained glass from the man who had created the stained glass in St. Francis Basilica.
Personally, I found this place to be boring. This is always the first symptom of “Museum Overload,” but that did not deter us from attempting to find the Muzeum Czartoryskich after leaving.
Guidebooks showed the museum would be closed by the time we arrived, but Kim really wanted to go, so we gave it a try. We had been lucky to be first at the cathedral and the restaurant opened for us, so maybe the museum would stay open late for us since we were on a Kraków roll.
Well, not only was it open; it was free on Sunday. This museum was supposed to house a Rembrandt and a Da Vinci, but only Da Vinci’s Lady With Ermine was on display. Although not an art aficionado, I found this oil painting quite spectacular, as did the rest of our group.
By the time we left it was after 4 p.m., which means…martini time. We had walked by the Bunkier Café in the Planty with a nice outdoor patio, and it was the perfect place to plop down for a bit.
Being a product of the 60s, I had to try a drink made from Vodka, Blue Curacao and limeade called The Aquarius, and it certainly put me in the Fifth Dimension. The place was packed, and outside of us, there was no English to be heard anywhere.
As we downed our libations, Kim and I started commenting on the women of Kraków. We were very effusive with our praise of the statuesque beauties of Kraków, perhaps too much, because then Mary and Tracy started waxing eloquently about the men of Kraków.
In our very unofficial poll about Poles, although we are from the land of the beautiful people, Southern California; the real beautiful people were right here in Kraków. I told Kim, if were 30 and single, this would be a nice place to live.
We needed a little nap before dinner, and then headed out to the Bodega Marqués at Slawkowska 12. Since Kim and Mary had just built a house in Bodega Bay, California, we thought the kismet of the thing would work…and it did.
It was a gorgeous, warm evening, so we dined on the street patio. The waitress took me to the back cellar to pick out some vino for the evening, a 2004 Sumarroca Syrlot (a Spanish Syrah/Merlot blend that was so good that we had to buy two bottles).
The wine went very well with my Spanish sirloin steak with gorgonzola and roasted potato. Mary had a spiced chicken grilled with sliced roasted potatoes while Kim (Caesar salad with chicken) and Tracy (salad with goat cheese, bacon and pine nuts) took the healthy route.
After a walk around the square, Kim and Mary took off for the apartment, while Tracy and I headed back to the Metropolitan for (in unison) a nightcap. An espresso martini and a Polish cocktail of cherry vodka and grapefruit juice later, we followed them back to the apartment.
Tomorrow, we would bid farewell to our friend Kim, yet Mary, Tracy and I had two full days together left in Kraków. As I drifted off to sleep, I thought, “What could one guy do with two women?” Hmmm.
<b>COMING UP - DAY NINE – GOODBYE KIM, GIVE ME YOUR DIRTY LAUNDRY, JEWISH QUARTER & THE NEW MRS. MAITAI, “YOU CAN’T GO UP THERE” AND THE GIRL FROM IPANEMA </b>
Aug 12th, 2008, 09:01 AM
#109
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<<...only Da Vinci’s Lady With Ermine was on display. Although not an art aficionado, I found this oil painting quite spectacular, as did the rest of our group.>>
I wholeheartedly agree! We had the pleasure of viewing this painting at the Legion of Honor in San Francisco, as part of a temporary exhibit.
We've not been to Poland, but you're making it sound very tempting.
I wholeheartedly agree! We had the pleasure of viewing this painting at the Legion of Honor in San Francisco, as part of a temporary exhibit.
We've not been to Poland, but you're making it sound very tempting.
Aug 13th, 2008, 05:40 AM
#110
Original Poster
"Glad to have you back and writing again!"
Slowly, but surely. At least I've narrowed down our picture selection to less than 500 from the original 2,000 or so photos we all took.
"We've not been to Poland, but you're making it sound very tempting"
Krakow was cool. I hope to return some day to see even more changes that will take place there and to explore the Polish countryside.
Slowly, but surely. At least I've narrowed down our picture selection to less than 500 from the original 2,000 or so photos we all took.
"We've not been to Poland, but you're making it sound very tempting"
Krakow was cool. I hope to return some day to see even more changes that will take place there and to explore the Polish countryside.
Aug 18th, 2008, 08:55 AM
#113
Original Poster
cafegoddess, yes still dabble with Jenny on occasion, just to keep stable at weight I am now (food is good, actually). I've kept the weight off for one year. Good luck!
Tom, it was nice being away for a month to not have to follow the stikin' Pads. I was much more into Croatian World Cup Soccer team, and now wear their hat instead of the Padres.
Finish Krakow and on to Vienna later today.
Tom, it was nice being away for a month to not have to follow the stikin' Pads. I was much more into Croatian World Cup Soccer team, and now wear their hat instead of the Padres.
Finish Krakow and on to Vienna later today.
Aug 19th, 2008, 06:24 PM
#116
Original Poster
<b>DAY TEN – GOODBYE KIM, GIVE ME YOUR DIRTY LAUNDRY, JEWISH QUARTER & THE NEW MRS. MAITAI, “YOU CAN’T GO UP THERE” AND THE GIRL FROM IPANEMA </b>
I awoke with a start remembering that the free parking on the street ended on Monday, and even with a mini-espresso martini hangover, I remembered that today was Monday. The apartment manager had told me that I should ask a man in a yellow vest about getting the necessary parking passes for the street. Instead, I ran into someone who looked much more interesting than a guy in a vest.
I asked a local (well, she was tall, young and really good looking, so I figured she was a local), where to buy the street parking ticket to put in my car. She was quite nice, spoke perfect English and, after coming to the sudden realization that I was still married, I quickly hurried to a little kiosk across the street where she said I could purchase the parking pass.
I proceeded to buy nine, one-hour slips that I had to fill out and put on the dash of the car. Speaking of dash, I had to dash back to the rental car and got there only minutes before I would have received a ticket.
Out of the corner of my eye I saw Kim headed for the curb to catch a taxi. He was about to set off on his own version of The Amazing Race.
Kim would fly to Chicago, change planes, fly to Los Angeles, sleep, then drive to Orange County, get his laundry done, work during the day, make an important speech that night, sleep, drive back to L.A., fly to New York, and change planes in order to get to Vienna by Thursday morning, where he would meet us in the nick of time to catch a flight to Dubrovnik.
It made me hungry just to think about it, so I said goodbye and grabbed a chocolate croissant and espresso.
Kim had made us think about our own laundry. It had been pretty hot during the first part of our journey, and we were going though clothes faster than Obama and McCain go through potential vice presidential nominees. Since we pack light, we were down to our last shirts. We could have done our own washing, but we gave ourselves a treat and took them nearby to the Betty Clean (the name of a place, not a person).
It wasn’t cheap, but the clothes would be ready in 24 hours, and this way we had more time to explore Krakow.
Tracy, Mary and I walked to Kazimierz (Jewish Quarter), about 20-30 minutes from Rynek Glówny. It was getting really hot, and we stopped at the High Synagogue, the Old Synagogue and the Old Cemetery. Then Old Tom said, “I think it’s time to eat.” I could see the gang was a little “churched and synagogued” out. We ate outside in the courtyard of Magma Restaurant. The food was nothing to write home about, but it is where I met the first of a few new “Mrs. Maitais.”
It is kind of a running joke that when Tracy sees me be a little more flirtatious than usual (hey, I’m not dead, yet!), she refers to that unfortunate woman as the “New Mrs. Maitai (not our real last name).” She is then quick to add, “And if she wants you, I am sure the two of you will be happy living in the back of your Honda.” Tracy has a way of spoiling the moment sometimes.
I had wanted to climb the Town Hall Tower in Rynek Glówny, so we walked back after lunchtime only to be informed that it would be closed this week. After Tracy and Mary completed the “Oh Boy, We Don’t Have to Climb The Tower” dance, we wandered the square, which was very crowded on a Monday afternoon.
We window-shopped for a short time, and Mary decided to head back to the apartment, while Tracy and I plopped down on the square at Da Pietro to have some late afternoon nourishment. We split a crostini misto and sipped some wine, Prosecco and a little Campari.
We actually got in a nap for about an hour back at the apartment, but since I was still shrinking, we headed out for dinner. We found a Brazilian place called Ipanema on Tomasza that had been recommended, and that stupid song started going around in my head for the next hour. (Damn, it’s in my head again).
Our waitress, dubbed the “Girl From Ipanema,” was a little off on this night, bringing a wrong dish to our table and forgetting my drink. As she kept going by the table without my drink, I kept obsessing on those stupid song lyrics, “Each time she passes, I go Aaagh!”
The food was not bad, but we had been pretty spoiled by the food throughout the Czech Republic and Poland, so it was a bit disappointing. However, the Blue Rio, a concoction of rum, blue Curacao, coconut milk and pineapple juice was pretty darned tasty.
We checked our watches, and by now we surmised Kim was running to catch his flight in Chicago, which turned out to be the truth. He made it with only seconds to spare.
Meanwhile, back in the Land of Travel, we meandered back to the apartment, via the Metropolitan, our new nightly hangout. The three of us had a decision to make for the next day; either travel to the Wielicza Salt Mine or visit Auschwitz. The vote was unanimous.
<b>COMING UP - DAY ELEVEN – BREAKFAST IN AMERICA, SALT OF THE EARTH, A SHOCKING DEVELOPMENT AND A DINNER FOR THE AGES </b>
I awoke with a start remembering that the free parking on the street ended on Monday, and even with a mini-espresso martini hangover, I remembered that today was Monday. The apartment manager had told me that I should ask a man in a yellow vest about getting the necessary parking passes for the street. Instead, I ran into someone who looked much more interesting than a guy in a vest.
I asked a local (well, she was tall, young and really good looking, so I figured she was a local), where to buy the street parking ticket to put in my car. She was quite nice, spoke perfect English and, after coming to the sudden realization that I was still married, I quickly hurried to a little kiosk across the street where she said I could purchase the parking pass.
I proceeded to buy nine, one-hour slips that I had to fill out and put on the dash of the car. Speaking of dash, I had to dash back to the rental car and got there only minutes before I would have received a ticket.
Out of the corner of my eye I saw Kim headed for the curb to catch a taxi. He was about to set off on his own version of The Amazing Race.
Kim would fly to Chicago, change planes, fly to Los Angeles, sleep, then drive to Orange County, get his laundry done, work during the day, make an important speech that night, sleep, drive back to L.A., fly to New York, and change planes in order to get to Vienna by Thursday morning, where he would meet us in the nick of time to catch a flight to Dubrovnik.
It made me hungry just to think about it, so I said goodbye and grabbed a chocolate croissant and espresso.
Kim had made us think about our own laundry. It had been pretty hot during the first part of our journey, and we were going though clothes faster than Obama and McCain go through potential vice presidential nominees. Since we pack light, we were down to our last shirts. We could have done our own washing, but we gave ourselves a treat and took them nearby to the Betty Clean (the name of a place, not a person).
It wasn’t cheap, but the clothes would be ready in 24 hours, and this way we had more time to explore Krakow.
Tracy, Mary and I walked to Kazimierz (Jewish Quarter), about 20-30 minutes from Rynek Glówny. It was getting really hot, and we stopped at the High Synagogue, the Old Synagogue and the Old Cemetery. Then Old Tom said, “I think it’s time to eat.” I could see the gang was a little “churched and synagogued” out. We ate outside in the courtyard of Magma Restaurant. The food was nothing to write home about, but it is where I met the first of a few new “Mrs. Maitais.”
It is kind of a running joke that when Tracy sees me be a little more flirtatious than usual (hey, I’m not dead, yet!), she refers to that unfortunate woman as the “New Mrs. Maitai (not our real last name).” She is then quick to add, “And if she wants you, I am sure the two of you will be happy living in the back of your Honda.” Tracy has a way of spoiling the moment sometimes.
I had wanted to climb the Town Hall Tower in Rynek Glówny, so we walked back after lunchtime only to be informed that it would be closed this week. After Tracy and Mary completed the “Oh Boy, We Don’t Have to Climb The Tower” dance, we wandered the square, which was very crowded on a Monday afternoon.
We window-shopped for a short time, and Mary decided to head back to the apartment, while Tracy and I plopped down on the square at Da Pietro to have some late afternoon nourishment. We split a crostini misto and sipped some wine, Prosecco and a little Campari.
We actually got in a nap for about an hour back at the apartment, but since I was still shrinking, we headed out for dinner. We found a Brazilian place called Ipanema on Tomasza that had been recommended, and that stupid song started going around in my head for the next hour. (Damn, it’s in my head again).
Our waitress, dubbed the “Girl From Ipanema,” was a little off on this night, bringing a wrong dish to our table and forgetting my drink. As she kept going by the table without my drink, I kept obsessing on those stupid song lyrics, “Each time she passes, I go Aaagh!”
The food was not bad, but we had been pretty spoiled by the food throughout the Czech Republic and Poland, so it was a bit disappointing. However, the Blue Rio, a concoction of rum, blue Curacao, coconut milk and pineapple juice was pretty darned tasty.
We checked our watches, and by now we surmised Kim was running to catch his flight in Chicago, which turned out to be the truth. He made it with only seconds to spare.
Meanwhile, back in the Land of Travel, we meandered back to the apartment, via the Metropolitan, our new nightly hangout. The three of us had a decision to make for the next day; either travel to the Wielicza Salt Mine or visit Auschwitz. The vote was unanimous.
<b>COMING UP - DAY ELEVEN – BREAKFAST IN AMERICA, SALT OF THE EARTH, A SHOCKING DEVELOPMENT AND A DINNER FOR THE AGES </b>
Aug 20th, 2008, 04:33 AM
#117
Original Poster
<b> DAY ELEVEN – BREAKFAST IN AMERICA, SALT OF THE EARTH, A SHOCKING DEVELOPMENT, THE KIDS ARE ALRIGHT AND A DINNER FOR THE AGES </b>
I don’t usually pass on places of historical significance, but we decided to forego Auschwitz in favor of the salt mines. The three of us have all been to concentration camps (I have been to a couple), and although Auschwitz is definitely deserving of a visit, on this day we opted for a more cheerful experience.
It was just like being in Los Angeles, as we sat down to our breakfast of scrambled eggs, bacon, hash browns and toast while looking at U.S.A. Today. However, we were still in Kraków and eating at the Metropolitan, our late night drink rendezvous spot. I have to admit, a little home cookin’ tasted good.
After picking up our clothes and depositing them at the apartment, we walked over to the bus to take us to the Wielicza Salt Mine. The preliminary reports I had read online made the salt mines out to be a very touristy thing to do, but on this blazing, hot day, we were happy to go under the earth’s surface for a few hours. Plus, damnit, we are tourists!
Obviously, chivalry was dead on this day, because as I started to get in the bus, I turned around to see my two companions trailing me by almost 100 yards and the bus getting ready to leave. I looked like a mixed up football referee waving my hands and arms around in a disjointed manner that neither Mary nor Tracy could quite comprehend.
Fortunately, the bus waited and, as Tracy got on board, I heard the phrase that all husbands worldwide can relate to, “What the hell were you doing?”
“I was waving you both to hurry up,” I replied.
“Did you not see we were stuck at a red light? Did you want us to get run over by a bus? Don’t you know the damned bus runs every ten minutes?” Tracy said.
Looking at her not-so-happy countenance, I decided not to give the flip answer flittering precariously at the end of my tongue. Mary just watched, now missing her husband more than ever.
Tracy was a little hot under her collar, but soon Mary and I joined her, because on this scorching day the bus was a makeshift sauna. By the time our 25-minute bus ride had concluded, the sardines inside were fully cooked and ready to be served. I only weighed 90 pounds by this time (okay, I made that up).
The English tour cost 65 zloty, and we had a blast. First, we walked down 800 or so steps, with our tour guide making sure none in the group croaked before we reached the bottom. Although an English speaking tour, most of the group were not Americans. There were Swedes, Germans, Dutch, Aussies and Brits, but I only counted seven Americans.
Our tour guide was terrific, and her banter with all of us was entertaining. The temperature in the salt mine was a constant 57 degrees, which made it incredibly comfortable, even though I was in shorts.
I had paid the ten extra zloty for photo privileges (I don’t think they enforce that rule, but I never have a problem shelling out money to help these places keep preserved).
I took pictures of chandeliers made of salt, a salt Last Supper and a salt Pope John Paul II. I couldn’t figure out why, but suddenly I had a desire for a margarita.
Fortunately, we did not have to walk 800 steps up to leave. That was taken care of by an elevator that swiftly (and I mean swiftly) transports you back to the surface.
Somehow, Mary, Tracy and I got in a grouping with a bunch of Polish school children. These second and third grade kids all spoke English, and they were a bit on the precocious side.
Out of the corner of my eye I saw one of the boys offer Mary a piece of gum. Another kid warned her that it would give her an electric jolt.
Always the kind traveling partner, Mary whispered to the kid that I would be happy to take a piece of gum, and then she surreptiously asked me to be a “volunteer” as the “unsuspecting” foil.
The boy reached over and asked me if I wanted a piece of gum. Playing dumb (one of my easier roles), I took hold of the “stick of gum” and, sure enough, I was presented with a very good shock.
In an act that Curly of The Three Stooges would have been proud of, I went though my fake gyrations much to all the kids’ amusement. It was only a moment later that I thought, “Geez, I really have no feelings in my fingers.” I don’t know the voltage of the gum, but that kid has a future in a Correctional Center somewhere.
We got in the elevator with about ten of the kids, and when it started its ascent to the top, the kids screamed at the top of their lungs. Their teachers tried to look angry with them, but even they could only laugh at their funny antics.
We were glad we chose this Unesco site. It was fun, it was educational and, thankfully, it was cool.
Back in Kraków after a much more comfortable bus ride, we had an afternoon snack at Café Botanica, just off Rynek Glówny. Mary had chicken curry in a tortilla with a small salad. Tracy’s eyes lit up at the coffee with ice cream, while I, being the real man that I am, enjoyed my quiche.
As we walked, we saw a restaurant that piqued our interest. It looked cute, and the menu looked great. I went in, asked for eight o’clock reservations, and they pointed at a table near the door, “You have the last table,” he said, and I am so glad we got it.
Guliwer, ul. Bracka 6, turned out to be one of the best restaurants of the trip. When we arrived, we were shown to our table, and true to his word, it was the only empty table in the house. As we sat dining, many were turned away.
This is one place where I will describe the dishes. They were that good!
Mary started with a wild mushroom soup (Polish specialty) and went on to Provencale-style chicken liver with onions and red peppers along with roasted potatoes.
I had a scrumptious veal cutlet with herb garlic butter, fried apples paired with some delicious pan-fried potatoes. It received a “Wow” rating. This would be a night for “Wows.”
Tracy’s first “Wow” dish was a refreshing, cold cucumber and watermelon soup. Her duck filet with a pepper sauce and celery salad with raisins and nuts was great, too.
With dishes like these, we could not stop. On to dessert!
I had a terrific Crepe Suzette, which was fabulous, but Tracy’s second “Wow” of the night came in the form of vanilla and chocolate crepes filled with ice cream, an orange-chocolate sauce, whipped cream and lots of orange zest. We were told the orange-chocolate sauce is made in-house.
All this and a bottle of 2004 Chateau Pertignos Bordeaux made this dinner most memorable.
I highly, highly recommend Guiwer for dinner. Simply tremendous!
We walked over to the Rynek trying to shed a few of the calories. Before Mary headed back, we found a small bar where the three of us had a final drink together to toast Kraków and its charms. After Mary departed, Tracy and I bade farewell to the Metropolitan bar and its array of martinis.
Over one last round of cocktails, Tracy and I tried to figure out where the “old people of Kraków” reside, and we decided we could turn this in to a Stephen King-type novel. The plot: “People over 40 are locked in Kraków basements all over town while their good looking, tall children roam the streets at night dining on great food and drinking potent libations.”
We all decided that Kraków would be a fun place to visit in ten years to see the further renovation of the city. If anyone is planning a trip to Poland, Kraków is well worth your time.
We needed to get to bed, because tomorrow would be the driving day from Hell. In order to get to Dubrovnik, we needed to catch a flight from Vienna, about a six-hour car ride from Krakow. Can a guy drive and survive six hours with two women and no other guys in the car? I would find out in only seven hours.
<b> DAY TWELVE – THERE’S SOMETHING ABOUT MARY, IT TAKES A VILLAGE TO HELP A TOURIST, THE SHOWER DEATH TRAP, CHURCH OR SAILBOAT AND DINNER AT THE GROCERY STORE </b>
I don’t usually pass on places of historical significance, but we decided to forego Auschwitz in favor of the salt mines. The three of us have all been to concentration camps (I have been to a couple), and although Auschwitz is definitely deserving of a visit, on this day we opted for a more cheerful experience.
It was just like being in Los Angeles, as we sat down to our breakfast of scrambled eggs, bacon, hash browns and toast while looking at U.S.A. Today. However, we were still in Kraków and eating at the Metropolitan, our late night drink rendezvous spot. I have to admit, a little home cookin’ tasted good.
After picking up our clothes and depositing them at the apartment, we walked over to the bus to take us to the Wielicza Salt Mine. The preliminary reports I had read online made the salt mines out to be a very touristy thing to do, but on this blazing, hot day, we were happy to go under the earth’s surface for a few hours. Plus, damnit, we are tourists!
Obviously, chivalry was dead on this day, because as I started to get in the bus, I turned around to see my two companions trailing me by almost 100 yards and the bus getting ready to leave. I looked like a mixed up football referee waving my hands and arms around in a disjointed manner that neither Mary nor Tracy could quite comprehend.
Fortunately, the bus waited and, as Tracy got on board, I heard the phrase that all husbands worldwide can relate to, “What the hell were you doing?”
“I was waving you both to hurry up,” I replied.
“Did you not see we were stuck at a red light? Did you want us to get run over by a bus? Don’t you know the damned bus runs every ten minutes?” Tracy said.
Looking at her not-so-happy countenance, I decided not to give the flip answer flittering precariously at the end of my tongue. Mary just watched, now missing her husband more than ever.
Tracy was a little hot under her collar, but soon Mary and I joined her, because on this scorching day the bus was a makeshift sauna. By the time our 25-minute bus ride had concluded, the sardines inside were fully cooked and ready to be served. I only weighed 90 pounds by this time (okay, I made that up).
The English tour cost 65 zloty, and we had a blast. First, we walked down 800 or so steps, with our tour guide making sure none in the group croaked before we reached the bottom. Although an English speaking tour, most of the group were not Americans. There were Swedes, Germans, Dutch, Aussies and Brits, but I only counted seven Americans.
Our tour guide was terrific, and her banter with all of us was entertaining. The temperature in the salt mine was a constant 57 degrees, which made it incredibly comfortable, even though I was in shorts.
I had paid the ten extra zloty for photo privileges (I don’t think they enforce that rule, but I never have a problem shelling out money to help these places keep preserved).
I took pictures of chandeliers made of salt, a salt Last Supper and a salt Pope John Paul II. I couldn’t figure out why, but suddenly I had a desire for a margarita.
Fortunately, we did not have to walk 800 steps up to leave. That was taken care of by an elevator that swiftly (and I mean swiftly) transports you back to the surface.
Somehow, Mary, Tracy and I got in a grouping with a bunch of Polish school children. These second and third grade kids all spoke English, and they were a bit on the precocious side.
Out of the corner of my eye I saw one of the boys offer Mary a piece of gum. Another kid warned her that it would give her an electric jolt.
Always the kind traveling partner, Mary whispered to the kid that I would be happy to take a piece of gum, and then she surreptiously asked me to be a “volunteer” as the “unsuspecting” foil.
The boy reached over and asked me if I wanted a piece of gum. Playing dumb (one of my easier roles), I took hold of the “stick of gum” and, sure enough, I was presented with a very good shock.
In an act that Curly of The Three Stooges would have been proud of, I went though my fake gyrations much to all the kids’ amusement. It was only a moment later that I thought, “Geez, I really have no feelings in my fingers.” I don’t know the voltage of the gum, but that kid has a future in a Correctional Center somewhere.
We got in the elevator with about ten of the kids, and when it started its ascent to the top, the kids screamed at the top of their lungs. Their teachers tried to look angry with them, but even they could only laugh at their funny antics.
We were glad we chose this Unesco site. It was fun, it was educational and, thankfully, it was cool.
Back in Kraków after a much more comfortable bus ride, we had an afternoon snack at Café Botanica, just off Rynek Glówny. Mary had chicken curry in a tortilla with a small salad. Tracy’s eyes lit up at the coffee with ice cream, while I, being the real man that I am, enjoyed my quiche.
As we walked, we saw a restaurant that piqued our interest. It looked cute, and the menu looked great. I went in, asked for eight o’clock reservations, and they pointed at a table near the door, “You have the last table,” he said, and I am so glad we got it.
Guliwer, ul. Bracka 6, turned out to be one of the best restaurants of the trip. When we arrived, we were shown to our table, and true to his word, it was the only empty table in the house. As we sat dining, many were turned away.
This is one place where I will describe the dishes. They were that good!
Mary started with a wild mushroom soup (Polish specialty) and went on to Provencale-style chicken liver with onions and red peppers along with roasted potatoes.
I had a scrumptious veal cutlet with herb garlic butter, fried apples paired with some delicious pan-fried potatoes. It received a “Wow” rating. This would be a night for “Wows.”
Tracy’s first “Wow” dish was a refreshing, cold cucumber and watermelon soup. Her duck filet with a pepper sauce and celery salad with raisins and nuts was great, too.
With dishes like these, we could not stop. On to dessert!
I had a terrific Crepe Suzette, which was fabulous, but Tracy’s second “Wow” of the night came in the form of vanilla and chocolate crepes filled with ice cream, an orange-chocolate sauce, whipped cream and lots of orange zest. We were told the orange-chocolate sauce is made in-house.
All this and a bottle of 2004 Chateau Pertignos Bordeaux made this dinner most memorable.
I highly, highly recommend Guiwer for dinner. Simply tremendous!
We walked over to the Rynek trying to shed a few of the calories. Before Mary headed back, we found a small bar where the three of us had a final drink together to toast Kraków and its charms. After Mary departed, Tracy and I bade farewell to the Metropolitan bar and its array of martinis.
Over one last round of cocktails, Tracy and I tried to figure out where the “old people of Kraków” reside, and we decided we could turn this in to a Stephen King-type novel. The plot: “People over 40 are locked in Kraków basements all over town while their good looking, tall children roam the streets at night dining on great food and drinking potent libations.”
We all decided that Kraków would be a fun place to visit in ten years to see the further renovation of the city. If anyone is planning a trip to Poland, Kraków is well worth your time.
We needed to get to bed, because tomorrow would be the driving day from Hell. In order to get to Dubrovnik, we needed to catch a flight from Vienna, about a six-hour car ride from Krakow. Can a guy drive and survive six hours with two women and no other guys in the car? I would find out in only seven hours.
<b> DAY TWELVE – THERE’S SOMETHING ABOUT MARY, IT TAKES A VILLAGE TO HELP A TOURIST, THE SHOWER DEATH TRAP, CHURCH OR SAILBOAT AND DINNER AT THE GROCERY STORE </b>
Aug 20th, 2008, 09:56 AM
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Following your report avidly. We liked Cafe Botanica too and even my gay friend noted that Krakow was home to a lot of appetizing young women.
Taking a guess here that your next dinner (in Vienna) will be at Meinl am Graben...
Taking a guess here that your next dinner (in Vienna) will be at Meinl am Graben...
