August 2005
Palace of Culture
Warsaw
19th August 2005
1.
rik and i were unexpectedly thrilled
when 10 new eastern nations
joined the eu all at once
last summer
we wanted to jump in a car
and rush east to meet and greet
our new neighbours
perhaps this eu expansion was unwise
joining ten relatively poor countries
to the prosperous west so suddenly
it caused great consternation in the old europe
that needs a little more time to gell
and whose governments conspicuously failed
to consult their citizens about this big step
in fact the new europe is very much the old europe
from many years ago
not yet prosperous, often poor
and still riven by ethnic divides
old hatreds
and nationalism of the sort
that fueled WW1
eu accession presents
such tremendous opportunities for peace and prosperity
and maybe a few extra waiters
to improve the service in amsterdam’s restaurants?
mr. bush is quite right that
east of the oder
lie america’s opportunities
for new trade and new political initiatives
maybe that’s what he means
by "new"?
2.
up at 7, final packing
straighten up the apartment for
rik’s parents, hen(drik jan) and hen(drina)
who will use it to enjoy amsterdam
while we are away
we’re in the taxi at 8:30
(an odorous young driver)
and arrive quickly at the distant gate at schiphol
by 9:10 (including a stop to buy magazines)
czech airlines is comfortable and friendly
but a half hour late.
which makes our connection in Prague
very tight
we run to the next gate
the agent has already cancelled our seats
but she quickly re-instates them
and manages to get our luggage
on the plane. Well done!!
3.
to jewish friends and family, I apologize
for vacationing in poland
where europe’s largest and most historic
jewish community – a center for learning and culture
since the 1500s,
3 million strong
was completely exterminated
by nazi germany
the extent of polish collaboration - and of polish kindness and courage
are covered
by the haze of soviet domination
that rewrote history
to serve its own ends
one polish jew, stanislaw krajewski, wrote
the poles didn’t do it
but many probably also did not regret
that the germans did
my dear friend paulette whose mother was born in krakow, said
blood was on every field – blood flowed in every river.
a veritable Rwanda
jews constituted 30% of warsaw’s population
virtually none survived
hardly a vacation spot
especially if anti-semitism still thrives
as in Rwanda
the allies did almost nothing to
stop the holocaust
they did not bomb the train tracks that led
to the camps, it is said
we are not fighting a jewish war, FDR is said to have said
but there is good as well as evil
everywhere
and no country has completely clean hands
if the truth be told
poland is a large and important brand new member of the european union
that I want to understand
it leapt from the warsaw pact to nato
in 10 short years, from 1989 to 1999
the savagery of the war oppressed both gentile and jew
Poland lost 6 million of its citizens, half of them jews, and half not
2/3 of warsaw’s population was killed
hitler boasted inaccurately that he had eliminated
the entire city
so I decided that
then was then and now is now
and I will allow that people in Poland can be fine
as an open homosexual, that’s a
challenge I face almost every day
gay people are born not made
and prejudice against us
is pure racism
that deserves no sympathy, but maybe
pity
--
4.
at warsaw airport
the hotel’s driver meets us
a short walk to his comfortable, new mercedes van
he speaks almost no English
the highway is clean and modern
we drive by expensive car dealerships / audi / porsche
our hotel, the polonia palace is right downtown
elegant, atrium lobby
renovated last year
in subdued and good taste
pale shades of yellow
attentive staff
a four-star hotel
available for only USD 67, including tax and breakfast
on the polish website
(half the price of western websites)
says a lot about the bargains to be had
in the new europe
three trim shirtless men
are working atop the high glass atrium
cleaning it
with machines that make a loud rude noise
in the lobby below
and we wonder if its dangerous for them
to walk directly on the glass rather than the frame
in our spacious corner room
we take a quick nap
then set out to view
the big city
stopping in a shop
to buy 2 apples and wasa crackers
all for less than one euro, less than a third of the price in amsterdam
the staff speak no english whatever
warsaw is rich in history
its architecture speaks volumes
about the nazi devastation
and the communist re-building.
we walk through warzawa centralna
the vast train station
located on ul. Jerozalominskie, Jerusalem street
so-named after the jewish village it used to lead to
we wander through the underground arcades
surrounding the train station
bustling with shops and activity
you can buy train tickets at little kiosks
we examine the yellow schedule, posted on the wall
deciphering polish words
to decide which train we should take
to go to krakow in two days’ time.
at the station’s tourist center
where English is spoken
we get clearer information about the trains
and we learn there is a 3-hour city tour
leaving in just 45 minutes
from the marriott hotel, across the street.
we book it, and wander off
to the stalinist palace of culture
once the highest building in europe
constructed by the communists in 1955
this old-fashioned, ornate spired tower
looks like something built in new york
in 1915 – maybe the woolworth building or 230 park ave.
those stalinists sure had
conservative taste in buildings
in the palace of culture
the ticket lady speaks no English
but it’s apparent that she wants to warn us
that the museum closes in only 30 minutes
I think she’s speaking russian and not polish- she says da , I think, for yes.
but we are all just guessing
we buy the tickets
and meander through a collection
of ancient technology, stretching from old-fashioned steel manufacture
to an impressive assortment
of 19th? century household appliances – old clothes washers (including a bendix)
one friendly lady guard (the same large lady sort who guard the museums in Russia)
turns on an old, electric, wood-tub washer and we watch the thing go around while the mangle squeezes invisible cloth.
A young blond mother showed her two blond children basic elements of physics
that were on display
--
5.
at 5:15 promptly
we were at the marriott hotel ready for our tour
seated in the marble lobby (garish compared with the tasteful polonia)
at 5:25, our guide appears
jerze, blond, about 30, painfully skinny shoulders
loquacious and well informed
talking with a desperate persistence
leads us to our car
again, a large, comfortable mercedes van
he leads us through the extraordinary
łazienki park
we walk on paths centuries old
and admire “the royal baths”
and handsome garden palaces of former monarchs
and talk about politics and history
we stand in front of the neo-classic belvedere palace
which jerze explains was not destroyed by the germans
because the ss wanted it as
their headquarters
he says
after the change, we made a mistake – we forgave the leaders of the old regime. we were too christian
and
we need a viable political left, but the left is now dominated by too many of the old faces, and we cannot trust them
and
chamberlain appeased hitler;
churchill and roosevelt appeased stalin
hard feelings still exist
toward Russia, whose troops in 1944
stood passively by across the river
to let hitler finish the job
of destroying polish resistance and Warsaw
it is said
but not toward germany who sent food
in the 1980s when it was needed
after communist farm management
began to starve the country
the germans won our hearts, jerze told us
we stopped believing russian lies
that germany is the enemy
he talks at length
about the movie the pianist
he says it's a true story
and the book is better
jerze says the pianist was a rare
assimilated jew who spoke polish well
and so could find support from gentile friends
because he had them
i'm struck by the story’s humanity
showing the german officer’s tenderness in the context of barbarism
poland's jews were largely unassimilated
and spoke only broken polish
dressing differently and living apart from the other poles
much like some of today's muslim's in holland and france
and arousing the same sort of hatred
such hatred of ethnic differences in one's midst
is the ugly side of europe
jerze tells us of poland’s lengthy, honorable and tragic history.
Beginning in the 1500s, when poland was the first in continental europe
to allow republicanism and even
to elect its kings
and granted liberal freedoms to jews
centuries before any other european country
hence attracting the jews of the diaspora
who were escaping from the Iberian inquisition
to settle here
we visit the site of the jewish ghetto
which was completely demolished
all that remains is a grassy city park
with a few trees
crossed by footpaths
and now marked by an impressive black monument
to the 300,000 herded within the ghetto walls by the nazis
who died here
from starvation and disease
and a smaller monument
to commemorate the sewer opening
through which some escaped
it’s striking
how unimpressive the site is now
life does go on, sort of
does the suffering of the past
mean anything?
I only see a mother
strolling her baby across a lawn
but the sadness of the place
is palpable
we tour the old town, stare miasto, which is in fact completely new
rebuilt since the war
a recreation of the national heritage
much like the palaces that were rebuilt
near st. petersburg.
it cannot be entirely healthy
for a country’s thoughts
to be so focused on the past
or does it just seem that way
to me the visitor?
are we being fed a grizzly history
as a macabre tourist attraction?
after 4 hours of voluable touring
we say goodbye to Jerze and the driver
in the old town
and have dinner in the restaurant
jerze recommends
he says even I could afford to eat in that one
---
6.
it’s an elegant, step-down place called u dekerta restauracja
rather like a wine cellar
located on the reconstructed square
in the old town
where you would expect a restaurant to be
overpriced and touristy
but it was not
I start with wild mushroom and beef soup
rik has blini with mushroooms and creme fraiche
then as a main course
I have roast duck with plums
and rik has goose
all in generous portions
served with baked apples filled with cranberry sauce
and sweet red grated cabbage
and fried potato-like puffs
and salads
really delicious
with polish beer to start
and Spanish wine during dinner
we walk beyond the walls
of the old town
and negotiate with taxis
as jerze instructed
not to pay more than Z20 (6 dollars)
the second cab we find
agrees
we sleep very soundly that night
in elegant repose
there’s nothing quite like
a really good hotel
for a good night’s sleep
Saturday, 20th August 2005
7.
the hotel’s gym
is small but complete
and I’m the only one to use it
we breakfast in the rather grand
louis seize-ish restaurant
I think of peter schlosser
who likes meals that have
lots of different things to taste
he’d be happy here
cheeses, breads, various smoked fishes, meats, fruits, omelettes
really a feast
we make the most of it
we set off to tour
first a stop at the internet café
to record these notes
then to the orbis travel agency
for train tickets to cracow, Sunday
2 hours 45 minutes non-stop in the ICE service
first class for
30 euros – not bad
then to the supermarket across the street
very large and
abundant with beautiful foods
then to enjoy the view at
the observation point of the stalinist
palace of culture
31 stories above
the city
it’s too easy to call this city
ugly
as the guide books tend to
is new york so lovely?
the aesthetic judgment is as much a condemnation
of the prior leaders
as the architecture, I think.
warsaw is a city
with wide avenues
and lots of shops and restaurants
and clean sidewalks
swept by the shopkeepers
they are cleaner than in Amsterdam
and large plastic arm chairs
at every bus stop!
all in all, a reasonably pleasant place
at least downtown
of course we have had
exceedingly good weather
which makes any town
look good.
dutch trade is well-represented
albert (ahold polska) is next to
c&a which is by
ing real estate who is brokering
the very fancy new office towers
across the street from ing's daughter
nationale nederland
oranje boven!
ikea and tesco are also here
to serve the growing middle class
having started a bit late
the day is growing short
we take a taxi
to a bit that remains of the ghetto wall
the taxi leaves us
to find it in a residential district
surrounded by modernist, pre-war
apartment buildings
we ask a burly man for directions
though he speaks no English
he knows exactly what we are looking for
and gruffly leads us on our way
when we arrive at the brief bit of bricks
containing a plaque that commemorates the visit by Israeli leaders
during a state visit in 1988
just after Poland and Israel first established diplomatic relations
an old man approaches us
in his fenced garden next to the wall
he says he is 84 years old
and shows us the many pages of his book
containing grateful messages/letters/postcards and photos from the many people
including some dignitaries
to whom he has shown the wall
he tells us the story of the wall in broken german
that i can understand
others approach to listen
his black iron garden fence
has very sharp points if you touch it
but he places his book
on a small wooden platform
installed atop the fence
for this purpose
a group of Italian tourists walks by
and gets their history lesson
from their Italian guide
why do Italians always seem
so happy?
After ten minutes we
thank the gentleman
Rik writes a note in the book
and we pay him for his service.
we then set out
to find the synagogue on Twada street
the map of the ghetto that the old man
gave us show twada street
only a few steps away
but of course the ghetto streets no longer exist
and twada street is now much farther away
at first a drunken and rather dirty man tries to lead us
but he falls away (or rather, I say thank you rather forcefully)
a parked taxi driver
gives us precise directions
to the ornate and large synagogue.
it is astounding that it is still there, and intact
that the Nazis did not destroy it first thing.
this voice from long before the war
now an abandoned structure
supported with donations from
an american jewish foundation.
regretful that we cannot visit
the jewish historical institute
with its graphic ghetto history
because it’s closed on the weekends
i stop at an internet café
alongside the hotel
to work on this journal
rik is tired and
wants no part of it
and he returns to the hotel
--
8.
we inquire about concerts but it’s summer
and only tourists are here
so we sign up for a “private” concert / only for 14 tourists
at the łazienski palace, back at the royal gardens
in the ornate ball room we are seated on little gold and white chairs
played by grey—haired Professor Maciej Poliszewski
who trained at julliard in new york
and in moscow
he is marvelously talented – reminding me of mr. horvath, the
hungarian piano teacher of my youth
powerful hairy fingers work their way through chopin
the first half of the evening is
largely in minor keys
ballade in g minor
mazurkas in e minor, a-flat minor and c-sharp minor
and finally a scherzo (no.2) in the dreaded b-flat minor
after intermission, i change our seats so we can see his hands better
and the music goes to major keys
ending with a waltz and then
the famous polonaise, both in a-flat major
we bought the cd
the professor stood in the corner of the ornate chamber
and silently but graciously signed it
he speaks little english
we dine with two delightful english ladies / dominique and anne
whom we met at the concert
we plow through the trendy nowy swiat street/ passing sushi and pasta
to find a polish dinner
we have a wonderful time
agreeing volubly on so many points: camilla’s dress, tony blair, iraq, the bbc
and much of the charm comes from not
exchanging names or numbers
so it’s just a pleasant memory / and not a relationship
Sunday, 21st August 2005
9.
on the 3rd day of any trip abroad
my brain slows down and
stops racing through interpretations/ opinions/ evaluations/ and judgments
of everything i see
so i can begin to see where we are
a little more clearly
tourists view everything / but see little / and understand nothing
we bear heavy baggage that blocks our vision
but it’s still much better
than staying at home
for me, business travel is better than tourism
because then i interact more meaningfully with local people
working to accomplish defined goals
the local laws and business realities become visible
for me the oddest travel is to america
where i am both at home and with rik a tourist
that’s where i feel most foreign, now
i see and understand more about america
than i ever did when i lived there
werner erhard said: a fish never sees the water
that it swims in
--
10.
rik exercises at the gym early
we quickly pack and check out so as to
arrive at the national art museum when
it opens at 10
rik finds the plain 1930s structure an example
of fascist modern
i know what he means but
i just think it’s modern
the collection is a fine display of
polish artistic prowess
stretching back almost 700 years
starting with fabulous triptychs from the 1200s
and an awesome life-sized wood carving
of a bleeding emaciated christ
dying stretched over a grieving mary’s lap
there is an impressive collection of painting and sculpture
from the renaissance to the modern age
we breeze through in an hour
then walk quickly back to our hotel / get our bags
and cross the street to warzawa centralna
for the 12:05 ICE train to krakow
on track 4
a polish tourist worker on the platform
asks if we needed information about hostels
in kracow / we don’t
but I am impressed that she is there
the cars are a little old fashioned
but upholstered and comfortable
tracks bumpy near warsaw and kracow
but smooth and fast in between
we share our compartment with
one lady with black hair sitting by the door
dressed in a white suit with embroidered top
who silently reads a mathematics paperback
and reminds us of paulette h.
there is no air conditioning
and it is a bit warm
so we use my water bottle
to prop the window open
in the passage
a young thin man pushes a cart down the corridor
and offers us one of water tea or coffee / at no charge
a first class amenity
another young man sells sandwiches and drinks from his cart
a third young man wearing a vest saying tourist information asks if we need free tourist information
about krakow / we don’t
rik reads actor stephen fry’s new book the liar translated
into dutch / a birthday gift
it would be more interesting to read stephen fry
in english.
i read guidebooks to krakow
and magazines
--
11.
krakow is lovely
one of UNESCO’s top 12 world heritage sites
a treasure trove of history and culture
a huge and exquisite town square
second only to piazza san marco in venice
is lined with attractive restaurants and
teeming with prosperous tourists
but the main historical attraction
seem to be the jews
who are no longer there
street musicians play havanagilah
and songs from fiddler on the roof
is this just for the tourists
who might relish the macabre history?
does this have anything to do
with modern poland?
a healthy life is rather like a shark
one could say
it must move forward to survive
morbidity produces little
at funerals a few close mourners are truly bereaved
but i suspect most people are thinking primarily
about lunch
one wonders when poland’s attractions will shift from
its past to its present and future
--
Monday, 22nd August 2005
12.
Auschwitz Birkenau
the very name should convey horror
the statistics are inhuman
gas chambers killing 24,000 per day
millions slaughtered – jews, poles, political prisoners, gays, gypsies, russians,
and some people the nazis just wanted to kill
a city of horror
and possibly poland’s biggest tourist attraction
our solemn and silent bus ride through silesia
just an hour’s trip from krakow
riding parallel to the infamous railroad tracks
passing the IG Farben plant
that was built to exploit / slave labour
the problem with visiting auschwitz birkenau is
not that one is sad
but that one cannot be sad
enough
it has no human face
is it obscene for well-fed tourists
to walk through these paths?
does it honour the dead?
or exploit them?
the biggest mistake the world can make
is to say this was a german thing
a flaw in their particular national character
shouldn’t this exhibit
be combined with a lesson on
more modern fascism? the signs to watch out for? the ease with which
majorities will ignore the oppression of minorities
to save their own skin? the tell-tale traits – restricted press, designated enemies, evilizing the opposition?
wouldn’t that give this a purpose?
--
13.
dinner at wierznek restaurant, on Krakow’s main square
termed “ essential” by insight guides
wierznek occupies 3 large renaissance houses
an elegant place
we invited ian england and allan crofts
an australian gay couple we met on the tour
delightful companions
ian is ebullient and outgoing – loves life
allan is reticent and intelligent
after dinner we part
again without even a suggestion
of exchanging names or phone numbers
the best way
Tuesday, August 23rd
14.
traces of Judaiasm is the title
of the tour we have booked
our guide is a short, red-haired lady, mildly explosive
who reminds me of my great-aunt, fay tush
it’s almost a private tour
to view jewry’s noble and tragic
history in this city
where oscar schindler operated his factory
and saved 2000 jews
only one other couple is with us
a mother and daughter from portugal
first a stop at an early reformed synagogue
ornate and church-like
strangely, it contains a balcony for the women
I thought the reformed jews banished the gender separation
perhaps not at that early stage
the synagogue was refurbished after the war
with finances from the ronald lauder, son of estee
his foundation has been active here
this synagogue is completely unused
only 120 jews remain in this city
most of them are quite old
we stop at the one operating shul
with its ancient cemetery
where black-coated israeli chassidim are visiting in groups
and praying / some dovining/ in front of the grave
of an important tsadik
that is in a fenced little area
mostly filled by a very large tree
the nazis removed many jewish tombstones
and used them to pave roads
these were removed from the roads after the war
and placed on a wall that lines this cemetery
plaques outside the cemetery
erected by the foreign family of survivors
commemorate the dead
one family lost 88 members
tears come to my eyes
in the presence of such loss
sometimes it seems that god created jews
orthodox/chassidic/zionists/separatist/defiant
to test the christianity of the world
a test the world has often failed
15.
our tour companion, maria jezu
is 60 years old but looks younger
a thin woman with short black hair, light tan skin, and piercing eyes
her style reminds me of my sister, eleanor
she is a professor of semantics and syntax in lisbon
and says she earns little money
she’s staying in a hostel
says her family have been atheists for generations
she has named one of her daughters with an arab name, jemila,
and the other with a christian name, cristina.
maria jezu has married a former catholic monk.
love breaks all the rules, I say.
maria jezu says she wonders if giving her daughter
an arab name might create problems for her, in the modern world.
jemila is with her on this tour
26 years old, a sultry beauty
who speaks english better than her mother
but seldom speaks
maria jezu has fought fascism her whole life
her friends left portugal to escape salazar
she taught portuguese for 3 years in
soviet moscow, when they needed to train people
for angola
maria jezu says in portugal we never registered people's religions
i say it might not have been needed. almost everybody was catholic
maria jezu agrees with this, and realizes that
when she was a girl every student in the public schools
had to attend catholic classes
she says, you could only be excused from this
if you wrote a letter to the ministry of education
and in that letter you had to say what religion you were
if you were an athiest, it was a problem
because athiests were presumed to be communists
her family was athiest
our tour guide shows us
the ghetto the nazis created to starve the jews
and the impressive monument
in the city’s former concentration camp
now an empty field
where 70 thousand were brought
from hungary en route to death camps
i ask her if there was
a polish nazi party
and she forcefully says no
and that the poles hated the nazis
i’m not so sure
16.
after the tour
we invite jemila and maria jezu
to be our guests for lunch
in a jewish-style restaurant, called klezmerhojs
in the old quarter
where the dining room resembles
somebody’s victorian living room
with couches and straightbacked chairs next to the tables
that are covered by a sort of giant knitted doilies
we have delicate and flavourful gefilte fish
that is served with a red horseradish (rather sweet) and gelatin
and little loaves of golden challah
followed by soups / matzoh ball and kreplach
and we finish with coffee and hamantaschen
the coffee is weaker than maria jezu normally likes
but lunch is a success
as we will all be together on the next tour
to the salt mines
and we have a half hour to fill
we stop in a book store
the helena birinbaum book
she was a camp survivor
that rik wants
is out of print in english
but we buy her dvd entitled: hope dies last
and a wood carving of 10 chassics entitled “minyan”
and a book: poland and the jews reflections of a polish polish jew
written with intelligence by a former polish communist
stanlislaw krajewski
who discovered his faith only as an adult
and who discusses the polemic surrounding how to display Auschwitz
--
was it a jewish holocaust or also a polish one? is it a jewish symbol or also/ for others?
the trouble with the question is that either answer tends to belittle the suffering
of the other side – which misses the whole point, i think
krajewski argues that for jews it was a death camp – where whole families were mostly gassed immediately upon arrival for reasons of their faith-
including women/children and old people.
For the poles it was a labour camp – a prison, where one member of a family
was interned for political reasons and might be worked or abused to death,
but he might be released, and he could receive parcels.
the nazis wanted to destroy polish culture and political institutions
but not to kill all polish people
in contrast to the policy to mass-murder the jews
90% of those killed
were jews
concentration camps are a 20th century development; death camps are a subset therein
products of industrialization – the industrialization of killing
the poles call themselves “the christ of nations”
for their suffering – which has been very real
and their religious devotion
the jews call themselves “the chosen people”
everybody says they were a victim/it seems to be a universal
does it make any sense? does it move things forward? perhaps not.
--
by the square in kazimierz the former jewish quarter
maria jezu, jemila, rik and I visit the jewish cultural museum
which is really a photo exhibit of the chassidic movement
stretching back to 1900
rik finds the book “the pianist” and buys it.
then we all get in a taxi/ in the square
and ride to the cracovia hotel
to join our tour to the salt mines
all in all, it’s a disappointment
though the depth of the mines is truly marvelous
taking you hundreds of feet below the surface
to salt mines hundreds of years old
the tour is touristy and kitchy
and displays rather too many catholic statues
and too little technical information about this
impressive site
the most attractive aspect
is our rosy-cheeked guide
who has a casual air
and whose english is a mixture of
american-sort slang and incomprehensibility
but the tour isn’t so interesting
that we need to know what he says
the bus returns us to the town center
and we say goodbye by maria jezu and jemila
again without exchanging names of phone numbers
17.
dinner, as recommended by ian and allan
is at Szara, a classic/trendy place with high arched ceilings
on the main square
our waitress has a bright sunny smile
service is quick
i miss that in holland
i have a big bowl of rich asparagus soup/
rik starts with salmon tartare
we both continue with
house salad (salade a la szara) with salmon, shrimp, tomatos and sliced eggs
on lettuce with creamy dressing and served
with thick pieces of crispy garlic toast
big textured glasses of red wine
we share a crème brulee for desert
in this large crowded restaurant
two other tables have groups (6 or more) of gay men in their 30s
and a gay Portuguese couple / men in their 50s
are seated at the table next to us
is this the new europe? very nice!
rik asks: where are you from?
they’ve been to a family wedding in Gdansk
and they say that Gdansk is wonderful
one, an arrogant sort, wears blue jeans with colourful suspenders
and is imperious toward the waitress
he holds out his hand in expectation of the menu
that she hands him from behind
and makes no eye contact
strangely he says that the girls in gdansk were so beautiful
that at the wedding they called him ping-pong
because his eyes kept going from girl to girl
his partner, a large man in a white shirt
seems long-suffering
Wedneday, 24th August
18.
i’m growing a bit tired
of organized tours but we’ve booked
this one of the central city
the most interesting aspect
is our fellow travelers
one apparently old and Chinese man
has a very long beard, scraggly jacket and a soiled knitted cap
carrying his possessions in 2 plastic grocery bags
like a street person
I imagine he understands little english and that he has come from china
spending his tiny life savings
to see the world once before he dies
wrong again! in fact, he’s jamaican, lives in london, and travels very often.
next to me is a a pair of crisp short asians, in their 60s, with tan skin, friendly
they live in honolulu but come from manila
he’s a realtor/she’s a doctor
he says: Hawaii real estate is in a bubble
they own apartments in hawaii that give them income
and a home in manila, with a driver and staff
it’s a non-stop flight from hawaii to manila
an elderly elegant gentleman in a seersucker jacket and blue necktie
is traveling with his wife who walks with difficulty
both are overdressed for this tour
he has been an advisor to the canadian prime minister
and is very familiar with dutch foreign affairs
we stop first at the jewish quarter at kazimierz
a quick review – we enter no sites
again, a tear in my eye at the power of the place
but most of our time is spent in the royal palace
where rik is very impressed by the
beauty of the place
with its leather wallpaper
and i like the mini-concert by a trio
of a soprano singing medieval music
accompanied by a violin and a sort of accordion
Thursday, 25th August
19.
the tatras mountains
after some city traffic
and a few wrong turns
the drive to zakopane was quite lovely
green forests/rising mountains
fields laden with haystacks
that stick straight up – rather phallic
in long rows
as the 2-lane country road climbs
we stop for coffee at a road-side place
with new, heavy, unstained wooden chairs and tables
that are elaborately carved
our hotel, the redyk, is about 5 km from zakopane
off the main road, on the way to zab
1023 meters above sea level, high in the mountains
we stop along the mountain road
where the few cars are driving
extremely fast
to take pictures of the view
and while we photograph
one front tire goes entirely flat
the hotel is very new/ the young women at the front desk
don’t know how to check us in
they call the boss, a man equally young
foppish, dressed in fashionable black with hair in sweeping curves
his father owns this hotel
he arranges for a taxi-driver
to change our flat tire
and repair the hole
setting off to tour
we avoid zakopane
which is teaming with tourists
and head in another direction – up the mountain
we get lost in the hills
in a particularly lovely spot and take photos
of haystacks and valleys and cows
then we drive to chocholów to admire
its row of typical wood houses by road
that use rope as an insulator
between the wide exterior planks
that seem quite new
then to orawka to see the 16th C wooden church
of st john the baptist
with its fantastic wall paintings on wood
including a biblia pauporum – a visual bible
that shows the ten commandments in marvellous
pictures of medieval scenes
do not commit adultery was shown as a man
walking away from a woman’s canopied bed
as she held out her arm
one couldn’t tell from the picture
if he was avoiding adultery
or had just committed it
it might have been clearer
to show the man walking outside the house
passing an open door and a woman in the window
while we admired the wall paintings
a small crowd - some 30 people - gathered for mass
mostly older people, women
but a one middle-aged man and his two teenage sons
and a few old men
we stayed for the mass
which was quite beautiful
and rather long
and had lovely singing
they began by singing the entire rosary
a priest who is out of sight sings the responses
while another priest switched on the light in his cabin
by the door
and took confession from a girl and from the middle-aged man
all in church took communion
except us
by lining up on their knees the length of the church
as the priests walked by to deliver the wafer
it was clearly not the moment
to photograph the lovely wood paintings
we stopped to use the toilet
at a roadside restaurant where the gruff owner
charged me 2 zloty
Friday, 26th August
20.
the day starts cloudy and grey
the great tatras mountains that you can see
at a distance from our room
are the highest peaks
between the alps and the caucuses
our comfortable room in
this newly built chalet
has a pretty little balcony facing the mountains
the modern glass door to the balcony
converts to a window hinged from the floor/opening only slightly
if you twist the handle down
very clever, and useful in snowy
winters
when no one will use the balcony.
at our abundant buffet breakfast
we smile at a toddler, a little girl
who gazes serenely at us
on wobbly legs
next to a small indoor rock fountain
the skies clear and we walk to the top of the hill
to have a look at the village there
from my cell phone I call pavol – my colleague in nitra slovakia,
who sounds happy that we will visit that afternoon
driving toward slovakia, we choose the scenic route
winding through the high mountains
covered with pine trees, reminding me of Yosemite
or a chevrolet advert from the 60s
the alpine border-crossing to slovakia
is picturesque and uncrowded
a single officer stands next to a stone-fronted building
and waves us through quickly
--
21.
slovakia seems poorer than poland
we drive west, the mountains to our right
sometime on modern highway
but mostly on 2-lane roads
that are choked by slow-moving trucks
drivers are playing a dangerous game
of passing the trucks at any
possible moment
we stop for coffee and cake
at a highway stop
and can pay the bill
with polish zloty
as we approach Nitra the fields are
filled with sunflowers whose heads are
bowed as evening approaches
our trip – 6 hours - was much longer
than we expected
descending the gentle slope to the city in heavy traffic
dozens of soviet-style apartment blocks
fill the horizon
this city’s architecture has suffered
mightily from communism
pavol meets us at a gas-station at the edge of town
and kindly leads us to his office
in the agro-institute, another
stalinist prize
at 34, pavol still has the winning smile and boyish enthusiasm he had in his 20s
when we first met
but has matured / his wife is now pregnant with their second child
a difficult time, he says. She suffers from morning sickness
seated on the small, semi-circular sofa, we talk about the region’s economy
and the fate of oikocredit’s projects
pavol, with his mba from england and holland, brings a wealth of intelligence and
information
after drinks at an irish pub near the town square, we part and follow
pavol’s precise directions to
our hotel in bratislava
an hour’s drive away
we check in at the marina botel
docked in the danube
alongside a wide and busy city thoroughfare
during a light rain
22.
the river is fast-moving and brown and choppy from mountain floods
in austria and romania
but the boat that houses our hotel is firmly secured to the shore
by latticed steel girders
and no one in the hotel seems alarmed
after some circling, we find the hotel’s “protected parking”
that is required by our car insurance
and located just on the next street
by the Caribe restaurant
the "protection" is a large, barking dog
that would scare anyone away
setting out on food to the old town
we pass the urban world of the night
taxis and busses parked
under highway overpasses
the old town’s restaurants seem
entirely intended for very young people
we finally find a nice place on the main square
with white table cloths and arched ceiling
although loud rock music is pouring in from a concert outside
at the next table is a group of 8 english tourists
6 are our age and 2 are in their 20s, a young man and a pretty young woman
the young man is explaining why it’s necessary for
clubs to stay open until 4 am
by the time one gets home, eats and changes clothes, you can’t get to the pub
until 10 or 11, he says.
the elders at the table smile
a woman at the other end of the long table says,
in my day we didn’t drink so much. we just smoked dope.
as they leave, one english man smiles at me. he knows I’ve been listening.
our waiter is professional and courteous
attentively watching our table
without being obtrusive
we communicate in german
rik starts with goose liver and asparagus (spargel)
i have chicken livers with thin slices of apple
but both dishes are covered with the same brown sauce
rik then has shashlik and I have sliced duck breast with
grated red cabbage that more sour than in Poland
again, the brown sauce
on the main square after dinner
we watch a marvellous band
two young women are the lead singers
dressed in crazy colours, like little girls
each wearing two pig-tails
sing charming melodies
and dance inventively
with minimal movements
i think even Madonna would admire their artistry.
a little girl, maybe five years old
is watching the singers, enraptured
and imitating their dances
she almost cries when her young
father and mother lead her away.
saturday, 27 august
23.
a leisurely slow start
we breakfast slowly
sitting outside on the deck of the boat-hotel
watching the brown wide river rush by
I read some emails
then we decide that
bratislava is not so very interesting
we’ll head for hungary
as we leave at 11
the sun is starts to shine
and the river is rushing by perilously
the protected parking
is now completely open and unguarded
in the daylight I see that this street
squeezed between the highway and
lying below the royal palace
is as authentic and charming
as almost any in the old quarter
and it boasts a museum of slovak culture
at the highway border crossing to hungary
the guard sees our dutch passports
doesn’t look at them, waves us on
i don’t move fast enough, so he says
goodbye! goodbye!
to make his point
the highway to budapest
which in fact originates in vienna, not far from here
is modern and fine
we speed along
but our goal is to avoid the motorways
and stay on local roads
to see as much as possible
24.
Hungary
passing gyor, we make a left
to find route 10 that runs alongside the danube
but the roads are more complex
than our map shows
and we end up on a 2-lane bridge
crossing the danube and returning to
slovakia
just before the border crossing on the slovak side
we make a sudden u-turn
and return head back to hungary
i half-expect suspicious, armed agents to come running after us
but that’s of course nonsense
these days it’s shoppers and not spies
who are crossing the border
we find route ten
and drive through old hungarian towns, slightly worn
but not without charm
and stop at a dizkont supermarket
that is closing at 3 for the weekend
the shelves are largely unstocked
and we are shocked by the prices
until we realize we are reckoning in slovakian and not hungarian money
rik buys liqueurs for his parents
and i buy water, fruit and crackers for the trip
we pay with mastercard, the international currency
and get cash from the atm outside
continuing down route ten
we stop to photograph
the former, crumbling ioxid aluminium works
trying to capture its beautiful tones of rust and brown
and decay
then on to ezterzgom
recommended by my friend bela mecs
to climb to the top of the
vast and marvellous basilica
and admire the extraordinary view over fields
and mountains and the great river
i wait below while rik climbs
to the highest bit
I watch a wealth of domestic activity on the plaza facing the broad steps
a large wedding party marches by
with a band
and grandparents are shepherding children
who play on the fountain and steps of the huge church
we stop for drinks at
the pretty little restaurant at the side of the basilica
a group of Spanish cyclists
load onto their bikes
with many full containers of water
as we walk below, back to the car
a solitary French horn plays haunting tones
from the basilica
amplified over the whole village
esterzgom has an exquisite, perfect beauty
that reminds me of austria
we dawdled there almost the whole afternoon
then drove quickly to Budapest
in order to arrive before the hertz place closed
at 7
regretfully skipping stops at visegad and szentendere
that bela had also recommended
25.
hungary is delightful
like poland, it seems to have taken communism
as a foreign influence
to be resisted
with a heavy grain of local salt
and I realize that slovakia might well be
the poor cousin of the region
where communism had the greatest hold
and perhaps did the most damage
one can’t avoid reflecting on
the difference between communism and a free market
at least in their purer, untainted forms
capitalism makes you produce stuff
that somebody else needs and wants to buy -
that’s the efficient bit -
communism produces stuff
that somebody should need, theoretically,
but actually, where the jobs are needed
more than the stuff-
it must have been quite a shock
when communism fell
for tens of millions of people suddenly
to have to find something to sell
that another person actually wanted
26.
entering budapestwe get quite lost
this is a large city
and we end up taking a wrong turn
into a large island park, in the center of the danube
asking help from the many passers by
produced almost nothing
because almost nobody we meet speaks english
just like in Poland
even young people
i assume the educational system
would want to teach english
but maybe it couldn’t switch from teaching russian to teaching english
so quickly? In a mere 10 years?
finally, one young man, about 17,
speaks american english perfectly
he has attended the American Christian school, since 1990
and he talks just like an american kid
even though he and his hungarian parents
have never been there
he says: the Christian schools came here first, right after the change
and my parents wanted me to have a good education
he speaks a little explosively and seems confused
but is friendly
he kindly gets into the car and leads us right to our destination
which is completely on the other side of town
and gets out without asking for compensation
the downtown apartment we’ve hired at Aranykéz Street 6 is a disappointment
a burly but friendly man wearing a black tee shirt
shows us around.
i ask: does it have a large bed? And he says liberally
no problem - everything goes in budapest
the worn post-war entry has a paper carton
by the elevator door, where people leave their trash.
the main door to the apartment
faces a balcony and inner courtyard
and is jammed shut
we have to shoulder it open
inside the apartment things are
old and worn, poor
but as clean as they could be made
it’s depressing. we’ll stay tonight, but leave tomorrow.
the marriott hotel, across the road
is a large white-block building facing the danube
much too big for the neighbourhood
apparently originally built by the communists
perhaps a former orbis hotel?
Now made glitzy and expensive
after enquiring about rooms there
(much too expensive, and anyway not our sort of hotel)
we stop at their business centre
and look on-line at hotels for tomorrow
we stop and have drinks
at an open-air terrace
on the corniche of the river
next to the marriott
facing the royal palace on the opposite bank
huge and brilliantly lighted
families are strolling with little children
while 2 young male hustlers are leaning on the iron fence
by the river
they wink at us – hoping for business
rik is visibly offended that they tried to make
contact with us, who are obviously a couple
i’m surprised that such trade goes on
in such a middle-class setting
an immense man is sitting at the next table
wearing a bright white t-shirt
of the expensive sort
the rock music from the outdoor bar is much too loud
and the waiter lowers it
after we ask a second time
i’m still in a funk about the crummy apartment
so we dine grandly
at coast grill – an new york-sort of place
excellent grilled fish, trendy setting, handsome waiters dressed in black
fast service, not cheap
we start with Thai Tom-Yam Soup
then
rik has “chilli-glazed tuna with wokked vegetables”
I have 200 grams of grilled salmon with bastmati rice that has raisins in it
27.
sunday, 28th august
sleeping late, we arrive at 11
at macdonalds, on the corner of Aranykéz Street
too late for breakfast
but rik wisely chooses yoghurt with fruit
and a grilled chicken salad and coffee
to make a nice brunch
as alain de bouton points out
in the art of travel
any place is interesting, if viewed carefully
this macdonalds is elegant
the exterior bronze doors have art nouveau handles
and matching bronze squares line the face of the building
inside the tables are faux terra cotta and expensive
smoked glass walls divide the sections of the restaurant
on one side a wood-panelled coffee bar sells fancy pastries and nice coffee
the screechy young waitress who took our order
brought our salads to the table
our friend philippina later told us that
macdonald’s won that location only because
they promised to use it so nicely
aranykéz street, which is grubby at first glance,
has other points of interest
the entrance to the basement car-park opposite macdonald’s
is lined with painted murals
rik notices fragments of picasso’s guernica
and there are scenes from cervantes’s don quijote
that we stop to photograph
opposite the entrance to our apartment building, at #6
is a large sign “traditional thai massasz”
a woman, fully clothed, is sitting demurely in the shop window
one wonders…
leaving macdonald’s, we taxi to our hotel, the
andrassy hotel, 5-stars, classy
i’m shooting for a contrast here
we are offered champagne
while we wait to check in
andrassy boulevard, formerly stalin boulevard
stretching far into Pest
is elegant
the city has planted young trees along this avenue
that leads to the imperial hero’s square
a fantastic circle of bronze-green statues, of magyar idols
some monumental, most bearded and
seated on horses that are rather too small for their loads
in marked contrast to this
gallery of rugged warriors
at the top of one column
is a particular young man, in a chariot pulled by teaming horses
affecting a rather graceful pose, with his scarf swirling behind
he gives a nice balance to the presentation
behind the square is the city park
and its neoclassic thermal baths, which we set out to visit
hungarians use baths to maintain their heath
and linger there for long periods
men play chess while standing
in the steaming water
budapest, once the hungarian capital
of the austro-hungarian empire
reminds me of how the mighty can fall
as she did in 1918
and then struggle to rise again
as she is doing now
we wander through the great park
directly behind hero’s square
seeing lots of loose litter
which is unusual in this very clean city
following the crowd
we climb around a metal fence
that blocks a construction site where they
are renovating a classic fountain and pond
to save a 100 meter walk
around the empty pond.
An old and large lady
who reminds me of my grandmother, shirley zeleznik,
steps around the loose fence nimbly, better than me.
descending into M1 metro entrance
by the side of the thermal baths
we ride the short train
through very pretty and small stations
that are walled with white tiles with red borders
and nice 19th century-style woodwork/
quite different from the deep and modern subways
in the rest of the city
that take real people to work
we ride to the center of town
at the river
mistakenly getting out one stop too early
where everybody else gets out, to connect to a different train
then we walk across the historic chain bridge (1870)
which was built by a wise king
as the first bridge to connect buda and pest
we then circle around to board the fernicular
that climbs the hill to the vast royal palace
we stop for cappuccinos at the pretty outdoor restaurant
just inside the palace entrance
with its sweeping view of the opposite bank
elegant, and reminiscent of paris
and only marred by the
oversized white-hulk, the marriott
we wander slowly across the large courtyard
taking in the view of the city
and the visible history of the place
in a far corner a large, outer-wall sculptures
from former times
images of graceful women and muscled men
are lying flat in a small puddle
they have so many treasures here
that a few just lie fallow.
guide michelin says there are 3 good museums here
we begin at the national art museum
an entry hall that is startlingly
soviet modern
flat sheets of marble in shades of beige and brown
cover the walls and vast floors
and lead to an imposing and broad 50s modern staircase
the communists stripped away
all original interior decoration of the palace
in an effort to create the new society
they used this palace as an office building
but apparently didn’t dare to deface
the outer walls
I must admit
I like some of this soviet-grand interior décor
that is now freshened up by the free market
it has a restful quality
that is refreshing after all that baroque stuff
as museum admission is free today – Sunday
why must we queue at the cashier for a needless ticket
that the ticket-taker 5 meters away
will then only slightly tear
before waving us in?
do communist employment practices continue?
the oil paintings in the museum
are strikingly dramatic
containing pathos, love and war
in almost every scene
admirable use of colour and light
make this a really memorable exibit
in one picture an older man is consoling
a tearful younger man with whom
he is seated at a small table
while officials wait in a small group beyond
the old man seems to be saying
“our love is over – you must find someone your own age”
but the painter’s title is “the forgiveness”
the dark haired, smocked, middle aged, coat check lady
is certainly a communist relic
who works only when and as she wishes
she curtly refuses to let 2 young women get something
from their checked bag and then recheck the bag again
- the tyranny of the petty functionary
but we successfully collect our checked shoulder bags
we return to the court yard and circle the palace
stopping for a full five minutes to admire
the king mathias fountain (1904) and the story it tells
a large green-bronze wall-side affair
displays a compelling story of a valiant male hunter
whose massive prey – a slain big-horned deer
lies prostrate at his feet
not far away stand his trusty falconer and the stable man
on the far side a lovely goddess is sheltering
a big-eyed frightened doe from harm
a large group of some 20 prosperous tourists
speaking Korean
passes with their private guide
a reminder of how a poor country can become rich
across the courtyard we enter the Budapest city museum
just to find a toilet and here
the soviet – style, modern interior is
even better than in the art museum
more intimate – with better uses of shades of brown
and attractive lamp fixtures and a strikingly simple white underbelly
to the staircase
all in remarkable contrast to ornate, stone, palace exterior.
leaving the palace courtyard
we give coins to a young woman who plays violin
with an empty baby carriage at her side
down the road a man - her husband? - is also busking
they seem to be a couple
but no sign of the child
we are momentarily lost trying to find a stairway down the hill
that seems to be on the map, but that isn’t there
I try to photograph the massive art-nouveau gates that lead to the exterior drive
28.
it’s a little strange to be where we
have no comprehension of the language
few people speak english here
outside of hotels and restaurants
but most speak
at least pigeon german
rik and I speak english, dutch, french, spanish and (rik) german
so any romance or germanic language is usually decipherable
but hungarian is sui generis except for
suspected links to Finish
so we are often lost without special translation
the other site we’d like to see
is the statue park
locate outside of town
at the palace gates a chubby taxi driver
wearing a gold bracelet and ring
gesturing his fat arm and hand energetically
said he would take us to the there
for about Fl 5-6000 (EUR25)
the taxi stops for us at a bank machine
and then drives through countryside
we pass a fair number of busty prostitutes
sitting alongside the country road, looking for business
I guess it’s logical for them to work on lonely roads
but I’ve never seen it before.
The park is an outdoor display of communist statues and public art
about 30 pieces – some monumental, some small
celebrating lenin, the hungarian-soviet friendship, the proletarian revolution etc
that the city of Budapest collected after “the change”
because they thought it would be “undemocratic” to simply discard them
says Insight Guides
many are interesting
some have artistic merit
after 20 minutes we’ve seen enough and board the public bus back to town.
29.
I thought that dinner with my colleague bert calis and his partner philipina
who live in Budapest
would remind me too much of work but I was wrong
it was really a pleasure, being with friends
who picked us up at our hotel, the andrassy,
we drove for a while, then walked through town
they took us to a charming restaurant, gerloczy kavehaz
located on a small city square
we sat at a white-clothed table next to the open window/door
that faced the outside terrace
only for locals - not a tourist in sight
delicious food and wine
later we wandered through the student district
and a maze of buildings in the university
some of which badly need maintenance
and ended at a large, outdoor student pub
in a long interior square surrounded by lecture halls
where we drank local beer
and watched the students drink, dance and flirt
philippina said that being with bert’s children
made her notice her age
being childless gives one the illusion
that time is not rushing by
but having a 20-year old around
makes one realize that one is over 40.
returning by taxi to our hotel
rik and I go for a final midnight walk
to admire the magnificent bronze-green Field of Heroes
now brightly illuminated in the vast square.
30.
Monday, 29th August
rik woke early and took the baths
at the thermal spa in the nearby park
while I lounged in the very nice hotel room at the Andrassy
we thought EUR 20 pp was too much to pay for the hotel’s breakfast
so we took glistening wet green apples from the bowl at reception
and headed into town by metro
after changing some cash at a bureau whose change window was on the street
we breakfasted at the great indoor food market we stumbled across
at first the arched roof made me think it was a train station
and the great space inside could certainly accommodate big trains
we sat upstairs on the terrace
facing the spectacle of picturesque food commerce below
a group of dutch tourists were noisily enjoying themselves at the next table
we had bread and fruit salad and youghurt
and I wondered if this food came from the vendors in that market.
then we walked over the danube, on the chain bridge
and went to the ornate, 19th C gellert hotel, which michelin gives 3 stars
for the unique thermal baths, I guess
and I took a dip
first tepid at 30 degrees C., then much warmer at 32, and briefly hot at 38
an old-fashioned place, with a lot of older people
while rik waited outside
bert c swears that the baths are good for your health
he’s a convert, he said
31.
to end our vacation
with rustic beauty
we took a taxi to the not-near metro
then boarded a screeching train
to head out of town
across the aisle a young mother sat with her little boy
- maybe 2 or 3 years old – very blond
the boy obviously in love with his mother
wooing her with his smile, a real flirt
burying his head on her lap and shoulder
She loves him just as much
40 minutes to the last stop
at szentendre, a charming village
that hungarian people love
stopping at the supermarket by the train station
I buy an apple pastry
then we climb the slope to the village
szentendre has a gentle beauty
it’s a place for families to relax
quite different from the (Austrian?) perfection of esterzgom
people and family groups eat ice cream cones while
walking along the shaded gravel path that lines the danube
lounging on benches to watch the world go by
the river here – too – is brown and high
from the floods in romania
we visit the margrit novaks museum
with its vast collection of her ceramic work
a fantastic variety of styles and messages
we silently thank bela mecs, my mother’s good friend
who steered us here and buy a postcard to send him
that has a picture of a novaks sculpture with 3 pretty women’s heads
at the wine museum’s small restaurant
just 4 tables under a canopy of mature vines
we eat just starters – 2 warm, 2 cool
mushrooms stuffed with goat cheese, salad with tuna
each big enough to be a main course
with two sorts of wine – one riesling and one chardonnay
and spend the rest of the afternoon relaxing silently
on a park bench on the shady gravelled path by the river
watching happiness walk by
------
communist statue museum
baths - gellert hotel
szentendre
