The gossip. The shade.
My one family reader complained heartily that Part IV was bereft of juice, ie., shit-talk about the Golden Child, so I’ll endeavor to pander to my minuscule fan base.
THE HOTEL CRISTAL:
I do feel that I am owed at least some acknowledgement for booking the hotel in Bialystok....not so much for the sleeping accommodations (though they were perfectly fine....I’m the one who had the pre-war era fold-up cot) but more for the FREAKIN’ AMAZE-BALLS breakfast that we enjoyed our two mornings at the hotel. I’ve had breakfast buffets at European hotels before (all of us except the Golden Child had) but this was singularly excellent. It’s possible that the real reason I would have extended the stay in Bialystok would have been to try every single item offered at that breakfast buffet. It would have taken at least a week. They mixed Polish favorites with American and European dishes and I could have eaten every meal there. The Golden Child did marvel over the multiple offerings and the deliciousness, but never once did he say: “Giant Dwarf, thank you for booking this most excellent hotel.”
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THE VAN:
As I've mentioned in one of the previous posts, I was against having the van. I know we were a larger group and all, but even the Golden Child admitted that the van was difficult to drive and park on some of those narrow old world streets. This was a van that could fit 9 people (we were 7 at our largest size) and it was clearly meant for industrial purposes. It was actually not uncomfortable at all. But the planning was a mess, since any driver had to be present at the rental agency to be registered to drive. My parents and I did not want to drive and The Prince was at the Chopin Museum (having arrived a few hours earlier than we did), so the Golden Child was the only driver present at the rental agreement signing...thus he became the only driver. For the entire trip. Wherever we went. He tried so hard not to complain about it, but it would slip every now and then and I am proud to say that I was able to contain my “I told you so”s and just thanked him for driving.
WHO NEEDS A FANCY HIKE WHEN YOU CAN JUST CLIMB STAIRS ALL DAY?:
Because of my ambivalence about the trip and even more because of my general procrastination state, the Golden Child booked all of the airbandbs in the other cities. Our first apartment in Krakow was 96 steps up. That’s right. 96. My father counted them. (This is not an unusual behavior for my father, and I have now adopted it on some staircases....however, I usually lose count after 20 and then make up a number and go from there. I also count in other languages. Sometimes a recite Lewis Carroll’s “Jabberwocky” poem.) 96 steps is a lot for my middle-aged ass. It’s ridiculous for my senior parents. I was seriously frightened that something bad would happen. Everything was fine, but let’s just say we had to make sure we had everything we needed and all used the potty before we left the apartment. Also, the sign over the door of the entrance indicated “Sex Shop”....which was just through the hallway in the back of the building (and would have been a preferred apartment location based on lack of steps alone). When we took an Uber home from the soccer game (the Uber cost $2, by the way), the location finder indicated “Sex Shop” so when the driver picked us up, you can imagine how surprised he was to see a senior couple and their middle-aged daughter.
ZAKOPANE VINDICATION:
Our next apartment in Krakow was sans the Golden Child and his White People Excursion crew, and the Prince already went home. So it was a tiny apartment in the Kazimierz district (fantastic location, thank you Golden Child) that was only 2 bedrooms, a kitchen and a bathroom. There was no common room. It was perfect for my parents and I and we enjoyed hanging out in the Kazimierz area, once a separate city from Krakow, now a magnet for Jewish tourism and hipster foodies. We met our cousin Barry, now living in an eco-village in southern Poland, for dinner. He is apparently a devout practitioner of Agnihotra, or Ayurvedic fire therapy. He performs the ceremony twice a day and has a travel case so that he can do the ceremony in his car or wherever he is at the exact right time it needs to be done. We invited him to perform the ceremony in our apartment. That may have been a bad choice.
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| Yeah, that flame got higher. Good thing there was no smoke detector to let us know when things were getting out of hand. |
While our apartment filled with smoke and we were opening windows to air it out (my father is asthmatic, by the way), the Golden Child calls. Turns out that part of the via ferrata was closed off and they had nothing else to do in Zakopane (HAHA! VINDICATED! See Part II), so they were planning to return to Krakow one night early and wanted to know if there was room for the three of them. I wanted to say no right off the bat because there really wasn’t any room, but I deferred to my parents. Before my mother could say anything, my father blurted out:
“NO! There's no room!”
(Don't worry...they were able to find a place a couple of blocks away from our place that night.)
OTHER THINGS IN POLAND WORTH A MENTION
(AND WHICH HAVE NOTHING TO DO WITH THE GOLDEN CHILD)
MY KINGDOM FOR A PAPER TOWEL:
See that paper towel dispenser? That is the only one I saw during the entire trip and that was on our first full day there in the tiny town of Tykocin. I thought the blue paper towels were cute so I took a picture. Glad I have proof of the one paper towel dispenser in Poland because this is what I had to contend with for the rest of the trip:
I am convinced that behind the wall of every one of these hand dryers was an old Pole who was just exhaling.
COFFEE BLUES:
I could not get a good cup of coffee anywhere. Here is how every place I went in Poland made their coffee:
Push-button coffee machines EVERYWHERE! (And I refused to go to Starbucks.) Halfway into the trip, I gave up and just started using the Bustelo instant single-serve packs I brought with me; this was literally my "in case of emergency" coffee supply. I managed to have enough for both me and my dad for the rest of the trip.
LOST IN TRANSLATION.....OR, MAYBE NOT:
I'm not even sure how to process this level of drama:
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| "Unable to live in a lie, he died for the truth." |
TIME WHEN I FELT THAT WE MIGHT BE OUT OF OUR ELEMENT BUT IT WAS ACTUALLY FUN:
Krakow's home team, Wisla. If I didn't know it was a soccer game, I would have been scared for my life with the constant chanting and the echoes of an angry mob rally. Other than the drunk man who wanted to be my father's BFF, nobody bothered with us. They didn't play that well, but it was a fun experience. I almost bought a toy of their mascot, a dragon that looked more like a fat alligator.
MOST UNEXPECTED EVENT:
These firefighters trying to rescue a pigeon that got stuck between the wall/window and the giant mesh whatsit that covered the entire upper floor facade of that building. This was in the old town section of Krakow and the residents and tourists alike all stopped to watch this heroic rescue. The pigeon was freed and we all applauded the brave firefighters for a job well done.
HOW THEY SELL HOT DOGS IN POLAND:
They look like this IRL too. But I just couldn't bring myself to actually try one. I do regret that.
AND MY FAVORITE NON-SPECIFIC PHOTO ON THE TRIP:
