Krakow is in the rear view mirror now as I say bonjour from Toulouse.
I had a fun final day in Krakow on Saturday. I made long stroll of it through what’s really some stunningly beautiful old streets and structures that show their age in a good way. I took a few rides on the city’s tramway when the feet got tired but Krakow is really a walking city. It’s hard to get lost given its narrow width and prominent buildings that can serve to reset one’s compass. The city’s center was located about ten minutes north of my lodging spot in Kazimierz
It was too early to take public transit to Krakow’s airport for the exit out so I took a taxi. I left the hotel at 4 AM. The driver was alert as we raced down rain-slicked streets, most of the way taking two-lane roads. The fare was 80 zloty. Krakow’s airport is undergoing construction which makes for a messy first impression. The airport’s rail link is shut down temporarily, too. I took a public bus on arrival and would have taken it back had it not been for the super early go time.
The special platter at Kuchnia u Doroty on Augustianka was so good on Thursday I went back for a swan song on Saturday night. Served on a big platter, the house’s special is a large potato pancake smothered in a pork stew with a little dollop of sour cream on top. It costs 15 zloty (about $4.50). It was easily the best potato pancake I’ve ever had.
The other food experience was a pure luck kind of find. I stumbled upon a massive market north of the town’s square. There must have been a hundred stalls selling fruits, veggies, and all sorts of Polish deli products. There were also vendors selling prepared foods. I went with a Polish Sausage platter (kielbasa). For 8 zloty, you got a foot-long link cooked in oil with a roll and cabbage slaw/salad. The link was partially partitioned for easy slicing into perfect mouth-sized segments.
After the sausage, I found a bar to watch the Chelsea/Arsenal match. You walk into a below ground space with several rooms at “Football Heaven Sports Bar.” The bartender attempts to meet the requests of his varied clientele and their preferred squads. He studied his laptop when patrons would arrive to request a match. When a group of about a dozen rowdy young Englishmen came in, one asked the bartender if he planned to show the Chelsea match. He seemed offended at the question. “Of course! This is Sport bar!” he said.
Later, one of the Brits asked if he could purchase an entire bottle of fine Polish vodka infused with raspberry flavor so they could swill it in their private back room. The bartender said the bar rarely sold vodka by the bottle but he would in this case if they were willing to pay 70 zloty. That’s chump change for the pound-flashy Brits and so the deal was on.
My drink of choice was Tyskie, a tasty Polish lager served in what appeared to be a pint (or maybe a little bigger) bottle. I also dabbled with the prominent Polish vodkas but didn’t go too crazy with that stuff to avoid any chance of a blackout.
I didn’t see a single person of color my entire time in Poland. Not even at the tourist-heavy Auschwitz. No exaggeration. No black people period. That’s difficult to comprehend and obviously something is going on there that’s not healthy for the dynamic of the city/country. Catholicism dominates but there must be more to it. One of my co-workers Patrick is a dark-skinned guy from Jamaica and he recently returned from a trip to Krakow. He told me he felt great warmth from the people when he was there. As I wandered about Krakow, I imagined what Patrick must have felt like in a busy city that is so homogeneous.
I also forgot to mention in the previous post the abundance of anti-Semitic graffiti scrawled on building walls and bridges as you take the train from Krakow to Oswiecim. Most people going out there take the bus and perhaps are spared the sight of it, but it has to be deeply disturbing for train-riders already filled with dread about visiting Auschwitz to look out the window and wonder how those messages are left uncovered.
An Airbus A320 operated by Lufthansa took me from Krakow to Munich and then I had a three hour sit in Munich’s wonderfully modern airport before riding an Embraer 195 from Munich to Toulouse. That leg was operated by one of Lufty’s regional carriers called CityLine. Both flights were solid. Service was warm and professional. I arrived in Toulouse at about 1 PM Sunday.
I took the tram from Toulouse’s airport to Chez Jacques, about a ten minute walk from the Palais de Justice.
Jean prepared his special version of a bœuf à la Bourguignonne and Florence made a special tomato tart made with some of the recent harvest of her father’s tomato plants. At the end of the meal, Florence wheeled out a crazy selection of French cheeses and offered a full explanation of each type. Lots of red wine was consumed. We watched the New Zealand/Argentina rugby World Cup match and kept the party going pretty late into the night for a Sunday.
It was sunny and 75 with hardly any humidity both yesterday and today in Toulouse. Cool at night. Perfect weather.
France plays Romania in the rugby World Cup on Wednesday. The French are predicting an easy victory.
