No editing time.....
When we got back to Krakow we asked the gent at the desk of our hostel
where we should eat to have good Polish fare. He gave us two choicesC
one with portions that would kill us and was quite close and another
that was seriously Polish food but that was a fair bit father away
across the city. As we hadnct eaten anything except rice cakes and weird
coconut ball tiny pirate candies we opted for closer. He was not
kidding about the portions. We had a pork layered with mushrooms and
filled with goulash paired with two kinds of delicious cabbage salads
(light, slightly sweet and vinegary dressing no mayo) and then a side of
mushroom and saurkraut pierogies. Giant beers. No room for dessert. We
did get a bonus portion of saurkraut just for sitting down at the table,
so that was nice.
Relatively early to bed in our Tibet themed room. The next morning,
thinking breakfast was served quite early as wecd stumbled upon it the
previous day at 7C30 we made our way downstairs around 7C45. Apparently
the other breakfast was a special sitting for the French class trip.
Whoops. However, the gent on duty was very nice and made us breakfast
anyway. Cheese and meat plate, hotdogs peeled, filled with cheese and
microwaved, two kinds of jam in special jars, milk, coffee, granola...
we then had a nice long chat with him about Poland, education, etc. (we
were a little sad that breakfast didnct include the croque messiers from
the previous morning. I have a thought that maybe they brought their
panini press with them. How civilized.
We made our way to the train station, stashed our bags in a locker
(lockers kick ass for making it possible to walk around with heavy heavy
bags) and got on a train for the salt mines.
They charged a fee for camera use, which I donct know how I feel about,
and had a neat system of guided tour hang it about your neck-ness with
earphones that transmitted the guidecs voice directly to everyone
without shouting which I appreciated as we were about to go far
underground where people had been messing with the stability of the rock
structure for about 700 years. Minimizing percussives sounded like a
smart idea.
We began walking down some stairs. And kept walking down some stairs.
Further and further down into the earth. There are some photos taken
down between the banisters at different places. youcll notice that there
still seemed to be infinite darkness, regardless of how far down wecd
continued to travel. I have to say, this first part of the tour was the
part that made me feel the most claustrophobic and question the wisdom
of willingly and independently locamoting my way under thousands of tons
of solid rock. We continued to descend. The small boy in front of us
gave up and was carried down the remainder of the way.
It is silent underground. Therecs no traffic going by. There are no
birds or dogs or mosquitos. They are all far above, enjoying the
daylight and the endless supply of breatheable air. As we congregated at
the first room of the tour there was some not inconsequential creaking
and then a loud, urgent alarm went off near us. The tour guide looked
nonplussed so I resolved to also affect an air of not noticing the sound
that would typically signal evacution. Giving up my attempts to control
the situation through mind powers and tightened muscles (much like what
I sometimes do on airplanes when there is turbulence) and rationizing
that thousands of people had made it through this tour alive and that
the lady leading the tour makes it out alive every day, I was able to
move past the feelings and quite enjoy the rest of the tour, admiring
the industry of the folk whocd excated the caves and allowed for the
seasoning of so many dishes for so many people.
The mining had begun in the 13th century and stopped in the late 1900s.
Our tour began in tunnels created in the 1600s. Throughout our time
underground, as we descended to the ultimate depth of 350 meters
underground (not the deepest of the caverns but enough for our
ground-dwelling group, apparently) there were rock salt sculptures that
had been made by miners through the years. It was like walking through a
dwarven tunnel system. Seeing the results of their hard work and
recreation so far below the earth. At one point in a large cavern our
tour guide played us an audio file to demonstrate what it sounded like
when they burned off the methane released when the salt was mined (and
when the canteen decided to serve beans for dinner). It would apparently
pool at the ceiling and they would set it on fire. This made a huge
noise which you good feel reverberating in the rock (we, on the tour,
could also feel it as sound is a powerful force) this was the other
moment where I felt nervous on the tour. Seriously_ Loud percussives
underground_ Miners, I salute you for your bravery - ability to block
out or rise above or power through the dangers of your daily trade.
Wanting to feel a part of the demonstration, however, I left a bit of my
own methane to make the experience more authentic for the next tour
group.
The tunnels were rather short. Something I realized while we were thereC
Rogercs too short to be a minerc thatcs why hecs never carded. (I was
quite proud of this when I thought of it underground. Roll with it.)
Fantastic acoustics in many of the caverns. They actually have a church,
several chapels and a concert hall underground at different points. I
desparately wanted to sing in them but other people etc so I just hummed
a bit occassionally. Roger and I did a bit of dancing in one of the
large rooms. Nicey-nice.
They used to have horses down in the mines with them. What a frightening
experience for a horse to travel underground. Also, another source of
methane. These miners certainly liked to live on the edge. There were a
few rooms we saw with salt water pools. Taking photos with a flash
illuminated the salt particles suspended in the air. Seeing as
everything around us was made of rock salt I found myself wanting to
lick all of the walls. I didnct, at least not directly. I did, however,
wipe a fingerfull of salt off of a cauliflower salt structure as we
passed it. It tasted salty, for your information. On our way out we were
loaded into tiny, no-nonsense, no frills metal wire box elevators. They
traveled quite quickly in the pitch dark shaft, three cars stacked one
upon the next. It felt like riding the Tower of Terror or Pittsburgh
plunge. But without a harness or seat. In the dark. With six strangers.
Not the awesomest.
All in all, however, an awesome time. Good suggestion, Will.
Later that afternoon, back in Krakow, we met up with Willcs friend, Ewa,
and she showed us around the town. Walk to the castle, Smogcs (a
dragon) cave and sculpture that breathes fire, and then in the awesomest
thing, she invited us to her apartment and fed us pierogies and
chocolate cake made by her mom!!! They were delicious! Then her friend
and roommate Tom fed us saurkraut and pickles made by HIS mom. It was
Polish deliciousness to the max. We had some good talk about eduation
(itcs a good theme) and then, finding the vodka out in the freezer, took
a walk for some Polish beer and vodka.
I have never been much of a vodka drinker. I find it biting with a
fierce aftereffect. I had never had good vodka. Under the knowledgeable
eye of our new friends we discovered cherry (tasty), burnt vodka (not so
good for me, Roger liked it), nut vodka (quite tasty), and buffalo
grass vodka which was the best of all (dangerously tasty). A tipsy walk
back to the train station and we were off on a night train to Vienna
(Wein), Austria. Lovely times with new friends!
This night train was much smoother, more insulated, (newer_) and aided by a gentle sheen of liquid sleepiness.
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