I cut you so bad!

Location: Krakow, Poland
Sausage Status: Hot, smoky, and dripping

Now this is what I'm talking about. Right here.

As beautiful as Warsaw was, it is easily the ugly stepsister of the major Polish cities. Stacked up next to Krakow, it is a wonder that it doesn't constantly watch "The Notebook" over and over while developing an eating disorder. I mean to suggest that there are self-esteem issues involved.

Whereas Warsaw was quite literally leveled during World War II and then rebuilt due to prior specifications, Krakow escaped relatively unscathed, which is fortunate considering the distribution of awesome historical sights, roughly as dense as bananas in Donkey Kong Country.

October 16

I'm up and at 'em in time to catch the noon train to Krakow. Trains in Europe can either be government-run or privately owned. I was fortunate enough to get on one of the latter, a company called ICC. I'm talking six-seater compartments with curtains and padded seats, complimentary tea and coffee, etc. It was nice. Made nicer by the quite lovely Polish lady sharing my compartment. We talked about business and traveling and the battle of the sexes. When she expressed and interest in film I showed her as much of Capture the Flag as we could get through on the remainder of our two and a half hour journey, which was met with a near-constant grin. I've gotten to the point where good conversation is like my first cigarette after being rescued from a desert island. Oh, man... that's good.

Pull into Krakow early afternoon and I hump across town with my whole pack laden on top of me, a rather pleasant 3 km walk. The difference between here and Warsaw is immediately apparent. There isn't a glass-walled building to be seen. Everything is carved and molded from hundreds of years ago, and they're barely even thought about rennovating anything beyond the modest needs of running water and electricity.

My hostel is another branch of Nathan's Villa Hostel, where I stayed in Warsaw. This place is amazing. If you're ever traveling in Eastern Europe, it's the place to stay. I get settled in and do as much wandering as I can, but by this time daylight is almost gone and I settle in for a night of chilling around the hostel. I meet a number of neat people, mainly Australians, who for some reason get around like the friggin' flu epidemic of World War I. They're good people, though, and one beer, four BBQ sandwiches, and three cups of tea later, it's time for bed.

October 17

Bounding out of bed with castles on the mind, I'm out into Krakow. First stop is Wawel Hill, the main attraction on the south side of town. Topping Wawel Hill are the uncreatively named Wawel Castle and Wawel Cathedral. The fantasy and history buffs in me now begin a near-constant orgasm for about the next four hours. The grounds are gorgeous, laid out with all the consideration to curves and open space that you would expect from any swimsuit model. I just wander around with a slack-jawed Slingblade look on my face for a while, then decide to poke my head in somewhere.

There are a number of tours covering different parts of the castle and cathedral, but most are too expensive. One, however, I just can't pass up: The Royal Treasury and Armory, where I hope to find tools of burninating the countryside. I am not disappointed. The treasury is great, golden plates and clocks and chess sets and... I don't know, tampons. The important thing to remember here is 'gold.' Everything is gold. Gold is neat and very pretty, but I'm more interested in the royal tools of taking life from a fellow human being. Sweet.

I gotta hand it to the Poles: they know how to ruin a bitch's day. I've been to medieval museums. I've read books and seen movies. I've done research. I've written theses. I know about weaponry. But some of this stuff, I ain't never seen. It's like they came up with a good weapon, then said "I wonder how many extra spikes and hooks we can throw on this thing before it gets precocious?" I was amazed. Racks and racks and swords and halbards and crossbows. My heart went out to every guy I've ever played D&D with. It was like coming home. I couldn't help but wonder if, in some ghetto-Renaissance movie, these are the weapons Samuel L. Jackson would wield. "Which big spiky mace is yours?" "It's the one that says 'Bad Motherfucker' on it.'"

There was one sword in particular that was a Royal Gift from some guy to some other important guy, at least one of whom I assume was bedecked in finery. This sword was enormous. The hilt was solid gold, and the three-inch wide blade, by itself, was taller than I am. This was completely unwieldable in combat. It deserved to be flipped off. It has now reaped the whirlwind.

I did want to get a little religion, but it was too expensive to go inside the cathedral. Solution: attach myself to a tour group full of old British guys and walk around like I own the place. Worked pretty well, too. I got to see the Cathedral nave and various chapels and the Royal Tombs before they kicked me out of the tour group. It was pretty much exactly what you think it would be: big caverns filled with sarcophogi. My favorite was the tomb of Kasimierz the Great. How hard is it to be a Great Polish King, anyway? I just had to flip him off. Oh, and there were statues.

I then wandered around the remainder of the Old Town, which is essentially one giant, pigeon-infested park, partly adorned with eye-catching structures. The Market Square was by far the highlight. I am led to believe it is the biggest such square in Europe, and I believe it. The place was a mess of street performers, children feeding pigeons, pigeons feeding off of children, cafes, shops, towers, and one very large cathedral that had a sign on the door announcing it was "only for praying." Damn, because I was hoping it would be the sight of the next "Iron Chef" competition. Spicy.

There was an accordian quartet there that was very good. Next to them was a man who had spraypainted his entire body (and clothes; he was dressed as a medieval peasant) bronze, and stood on a pedastal like a statue, only moving in a robotic fashion when someone dropped some money into his hat. He was out there for at least 6 hours, by my count, not moving. That's dedication, right there.

Met some guys in a local bar and played some cards. Nothing really eventful, there. They were not particularly talkative.

Grabbed dinner at a kebab shop, sadly the worst kebab shop I've ever seen, then went back to the hostel. Did some writing while listening to a group of Americans and Canadians recount childhood misdeeds, which was quite entertaining. Then off to bed.

October 18

My plan for today was to go see these Salt Mines that are outside the city. Apparently they're quite beautiful. I wouldn't know. I found the bus that I was directed to, but it never went to the Salt Mines. I was told that outside the bus I would see signs for Wielcznik and signs - in English! - announcing "Salt Mines." At best, these signs could be considered myth, much like cheerleaders who love computer engineers, or the minotaur. As it was, the bus just kept going with me sitting on it wondering how long it would take to get to this place. I ended up going on what amounted to an hour and a half-long ride around the Polish countryside and then back to Krakow. Really, Polish farming country is quite beautiful, though it was dulled somewhat by my panicked thoughts that perhaps we were not going back to Krakow. I even checked my map and realized that, on our present course, we would soon end up in the Ukraine. This is a new fear: in a land where I do not speak the language, with almost nothing in my possession, taken across a foreign border with no idea how to get back and a rash of ex-communist, figure-skating mafiosos lining up to take advantage of my virgin anus.

Thankfully, we made it back to Krakow.

I wandered around the Old Town some more, grabbing a quick bite to eat, then headed to the hostel to drop some stuff off and get directions. See, nearby there is an old rock quarry turned artificial lake, and the hostel staff claimed it was quite lovely at sunset. Grabbing a couple of ne'er-do-well Colorado men from the common room, we head off on a twenty-minute walk to the lake. It is just as beautiful as promised, and the hike up is quite brisk and refreshing. I was surprised to find this wilderness a stone's throw from downtown Krakow, but who am I to complain? The view of the city from the peak of the hill above the lake was "give the bird" quality, and the three of us sat talking and chucking rocks into the lake while we watched the sunset. The water was so clear you could actually see the rocks we threw in sink for at least a hundred feet, and we got to jeer at several Polish people nearby getting their SCUBA certification. And really, what's a sunset without a little heckling of foreigners trying to better themselves? With daylight failing, we make our way back to the hostel.

Barbeque for dinner again tonight, and it's delicious. The conversation is brisk and cutting, although the banter is a little lopsided in my favor. Missing Dan and Bryson. I go down to the movie room to find some guys watching "The Pianist." .... honestly? "The Pianist?" In Poland? These guys are serious gluttons for punishment, and when I come back later we put on "Collateral" to lighten the mood. At least that's some violent death I can get behind.

Try a Mad Dog shot because it's free. The vodka element is quite tasty, but shooting Tabasco sauce is not exactly my thing.

And I'm off to bed. Gotta head to Prague tomorrow.

Progress Thus Far:
Countries Visited: 3
Stupid Tourist Moments: 26
Monuments Flipped Off: 15
Free Food Ganked: 3
Free Booze Ganked: 12


burning bright, a fire blows the signal to the sky
i sit here wondering, does the message get to you?
-Baltimora