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We got back to Krakow by evening, and walked around the city observing the wad of support for Poland’s national football team prior to their Euro 2008 clash with bitter neighbours Germany. If only the team had embodied the passion of the nation – as it turned out they were quite dismal and lost comfortably.
Ever since I developed an understanding of the Second World War and what the Holocaust was, it has fascinated me. The two places I decided that I must visit in relation to it were Hiroshima and Auschwitz. In 2005 we got the opportunity to visit Hiroshima and one of the expected results was a realization of what actually happened.
It’s 9am. Outside our hotel is a tiny beer garden that’s already full to the brim with a legion of meagerly clad Stag weekenders. The only way to tell them apart is by the jejune florescent writing on the backs of their t-shirts – if indeed they’re wearing any. We are waiting for the old, faithful taxi driver who took us in and out of town last night.
I’m quite sure Poland was once a fairly offbeat destination for tourists – that is, until Eastern Europe was invaded by low cost airlines. This was nice as it paved the way for humble adventurists like ourselves to go and admire the portentous wonderment of a culture slightly different to our own. But there was also another side.
