As our time in Krakow wound down, we began making plans for Sofia, Bulgaria to be our next stop, having already decided that our city-hopping ways were contributing to our continued failure to completely recover good health.  Then on Tuesday night, as we were about to make payment on an apartment in Sofia, we began to hear strains of Kenny Rogers.  I was still hacking through the night and Ken's cough had roared back with a vengeance, and yet the gambler's words grew stronger until they were loud and clear.

As enthusiastic as we were about this ‘round the world trip when we left home a month ago, we remain unable to shake the health issues that began to plague us a few days into the trip.  The respiratory bug that came on board with me our third day in Reykjavik left within a week only to take up residence with Ken.  Since then, we have yet to experience a single day when both of us felt well or a night when we slept restfully without being wakened by one of us coughing.  We’ve pushed through this bronchitis and other illnesses thinking the problems would eventually leave us in peace.  When they did not, we tracked down an English-speaking doctor in Prague.  Unfortunately, his prescription not only did not effect a cure, it apparently introduced some unexpected and unpleasant side effects.

So, sick and tired of being sick and tired, we decided it was time to fold on this trip.  We coughed up a sizeable change fee (finally something productive!) to LOT Polish Airline and revised our destination from Sofia to London, where we had many more return flights to the U.S. to choose from.

In keeping with what appeared to be the theme of this trip, the return trip offered up some memorable moments.  Upon our arrival at the Krakow airport (really just a prefab aluminum building for domestic flights), our flight to Warsaw was listed as “Check-In Suspended.”  Hmmm.  Apparently since the noon flight threatened to disrupt the security agents’ lunch, screening did not open until 10 minutes before the flight was to depart.  Interestingly, all of the agents had large handguns strapped to their legs, so we certainly didn't complain about their lack of timeliness.  

With a comfortable two-hour layover, we had lunch in Warsaw and left for Heathrow on time.  In London, all went smoothly until we rode the Heathrow Express to Terminal 5, the alleged location of the Hilton hotel where we had reservations for the night to await our flight back to the States the next morning.  After a futile search for the hotel within the terminal (found other hotels there), we located a hotel information desk.  

     

The very courteous agent informed us that the hotel was not at the terminal but “off-site” and that there was a convenient Hotel Hoppa bus just outside the door that would take us there for only $15.  What she failed to say and, in her defense probably did not know, was that our wait for this multi-hotel shuttle would require 45 minutes of standing in the below-ground transportation area sucking up diesel fumes from the dozens of buses that came through going to other hotels and transporting airline crews before the H57 bus to the Hilton finally showed up.  A brief 20-minute ride later and we were in a rural area at the speciously named "Hilton London Heathrow Airport Terminal 5.”

On Thursday morning, we avoided the Hotel Hoppa and took a taxi back to Heathrow (fool me once, and all that), dutifully making our way to Gate 25 to board our Delta flight to JFK in New York.  With all the passengers checked in, there still was no aircraft, so we were crammed into yet another airport bus and transported more than 20 minutes on a circuitous route to finally arrive at the other side of the same terminal we had just left, boarding by airstairs from the tarmac.  The bus trip lasted so long, passengers were speculating about whether we were being taken to Gatwick, or maybe Edinburgh.

The shining star of this return story was the flight to New York because we were able to score an upgrade to business class seats and enjoyed all the perks that went along with it, particularly the lie-flat seats, which allowed us to catch some sleep on the 8-hour flight.  Upon our arrival at JFK, we went through passport control and customs, then were channeled out of the secure area directly into a line for a security screening before going to the gate for our connecting flight to Atlanta.

Because four flight attendants sauntered into the gate area half an hour after boarding was set to begin, our Delta flight to Atlanta could not depart on schedule.  By the time we pushed away from the gate, the delay had put us into the path of a line of rain squalls.  Before we reached the runway, the pilot announced that he was shutting down the engines where we were because no flights were being allowed to take off.  

More than an hour late, our 757 at last climbed into the storm.  Though the pilot pushed up to its maximum altitude of 42,000 feet, we were still buffeted by high winds for most of the trip, giving those late flight attendants a free pass on serving beverages.

But the story has a happy ending.  Our faithful, friendly limo driver Faisal was still there at the Atlanta airport waiting for us when we arrived an hour late, the same guy who had delivered us to the airport a month ago.  And we arrived home, finding all was well—except us, of course.  But we've scheduled appointments with some doctors that speak English and are very hopeful they can get us all fixed up so we can hit the road again.

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Like many European cities, Krakow boasts a long history.  The earliest known settlement, dating back to the 4th century, was established on Wawel Hill (pictured above).  According to legend, the ruler Krakus built the town, naming it after himself, at the top of this hill immediately over the lair of a powerful dragon.  When livestock and young maidens kept disappearing, Krakus invited knights to attempt to slay the dragon in exchange, of course, for his daughter's hand in marriage.  In true romantic fashion, all the knights, errant and local, fell to the dragon's fiery power until a local cobbler conceived the solution and baited the dragon with a sulfur-filled sheep, leading to its demise.

Since Krakow is a popular tourist center, it comes as no surprise that for the paltry sum of 3 Polish zlotys (about 99 cents US), one can descend into the dragon's cave from the top of Wawel Hill, exiting just at the site of an array of souvenir kiosks selling...yes, dragons!  Stuffed (though not with volatile sheep), wooden, plastic, metal, or most any other type of dragon figurine is available.

By the year 1000, Krakow had become a center of trade and in 1038 became the seat of the Polish government.  Krakow continued to serve as the capital of Poland for almost six centuries and still plays an important role in preserving the national identity.  Unlike so many cities in Poland, Krakow was hardly damaged in World War II, and restoration efforts in recent years have been returning many historic buildings to their original glory.

Just north of Wawel Hill, the Old Quarter remains the heart of Krakow.  The city's Market Square is said to be the largest in Europe, surrounded this time of year with sidewalk cafes and populated with tourists and locals who like to hang out there.  We made the obligatory climb up the old City Hall Tower for a fantastic view of this vibrant public space.

Town Hall Tower

Dominating the east side of the square is St. Mary's Church, a massive Gothic basilica built in the 14th century.  At 262 feet, the taller of St. Mary's towers historically served as a watch tower for the city.  Following tradition, a trumpeter still blows a signal from the tower hourly.  In memory of a now famous trumpeter who was struck in the throat by an arrow when attempting to warn the city of a Mongol invasion in the 13th century, the trumpet call is abruptly interrupted each time it is played.  You can hear an example here.

St. Mary's Basilica, Krakow

Behind the communion table in the sanctuary is the massive 40-ft tall sculpted altarpiece.  Panels depict scenes from the life of Mary and Jesus, with scenes of Mary's joy on the inner panels and her sorrow on the exterior panels.  Each day at noon the doors are opened to reveal the huge carved centerpiece.

St. Mary's altarpiece

As the Nazis began invading Poland during World War II, townspeople dismantled the altar and hid it in different places around the country to protect it from Nazi plunder.  Their efforts were in vain as the German governor of Poland determined the location of the treasures and had them removed them to the Third Reich.  After the war, the altar work was discovered in the basement of the bombed ruins of Nuremberg Castle, returned to Poland and restored.

We will wind up our visit to Krakow tomorrow before moving on to our next destination.

Krakow Cathedral on Wawel Hill

Flower Vendor at Old Town Square

No shortage of horse-drawn carriages around the square

Waiting for a fare

Old Market Square

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Since we realized we would be visiting Krakow, we have been planning a side trip to the Auschwitz-Birkenau State Museum some 40 miles away.  But we realized today, we really had not prepared ourselves for this experience.

Over the years, both of us have read many accounts of concentration camps, including firsthand experiences.  We have known victims  We both thought we had a complete understanding of the inhumane horrors that went on at these nightmarish encampments.  But we were so very wrong.

With one mind-jarring glimpse after another into the experience called life in this desolate corner of hell, the scenes that took our breath away and left us devastated were the exhibits of personal effects of the victims. Out of respect to those who suffered mightily and died here, photos were prohibited of the intimate belongings on display—thousands upon thousands of items removed from victims as they were led into the gas chambers within hours after their arrival at this "work camp."

There were rooms dedicated to shoes, thousands upon thousands of shoes, including vast piles of children's footwear.  And brushes.  And suitcases.  The Nazis were very efficient in sorting the belongings of their victims.

And then there was the hair.  Nazi  exterminators carefully harvested human hair for sundry uses, ranging from wigs to upholstery and pillow stuffing to weaving of special fabrics. One room featured an exhibit of thousands of pounds of human hair—a braid that might have been wrenched from an innocent child, a curly white beard from a naive old rabbi.  At least 40,000 people were victimized to accumulate the amount of hair on display.  It was more than one could comprehend this evil perpetrated against another person.

Part of an exhibit of empty Zyklon B (cyanide) cans

In an effort to depict the brutality and atrocities that took place here, the museum offered up one after another exhibit that challenged one's ability to comprehend horror.  One exhibit encompassed a massive pile of empty cans of Zyklon B, the cyanide-based pesticide used to efficiently murder hundreds of thousands of people at Auschwitz and its "offspring" camp Birkenau.

Words cannot express the impact of a visit to these death factories.  We felt extremely thankful to be guided through this soul-numbing experience by Teresa, a guide with 16 years experience at the museum.  Her presence and presentation added just the proper gravitas.  She is quite passionate about the historical significance of her role and upbraided some insensitive young people our tour group encountered.

Our first day in Krakow, and it rained.  Really rained.  All day.  And we were tired.  And we spent the day enjoying the view from our window without exposing ourselves to the splash. And we rather liked it.

The wet view from our window

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D:  Here's our train, SuperCity 505.  This leg of the trip is 225 miles to Ostrava and takes a little over three hours with only two stops.

K:  Hey, not only is there an electrical outlet, I have wifi!  I saw a sign on the side of the car that said WiFi.  Maybe we'll have it the entire trip.

D:  I can't believe how much I'm getting done here.  This car is not only very spacious, it's a nice quiet ride.  And smooth, too.  I'm thinking we need to forget about air travel.  Forget car rentals.  Rail is the way to go, especially on this SC 505 Pendolino (pictured above).

K:  And a heck of a value.  Our tickets were only about $100 for this nice first class car.  I would never have guessed that included free food and beverages.  Did you hear the attendant ask if we wanted champagne?

Lipník nad Bečvou

D:  That's a pretty little village.  I think it's called Lipník nad Bečvou.  Hard to see with the rainwater running down the windows.  Aren't you glad we aren't driving in all this rain?

Ostrava rail station

K:  I sure hope this EuroCity train is as nice as the SuperCity.  This station at Ostrava is definitely a little below the standards of Prague.  The train may be a little slower.  This leg is an hour and a half and takes us only about 60 miles.

EuroCity train

D:  OK.  We can definitely work with this.  No WiFi but we do have electrical power.  And thankfully the restaurant car isn't full, so we can ride here and have a bigger table than what's offered at our seats.  Guess the food won't be free, though.  Still, only two intermediate stops.  This is still working.  We should look into taking a train from Krakow to Sofia.

K:  Hurry, we have only three minutes to make this connection in Katowice.  Yes, I'm sure this is the train.  All the cars are 2nd class and we don't have reserved seats this time, so let's just board and find seats.

D:  Whoa.  Is that little shelf the only thing we have for a table?

K:  Table?  I'd rather have a new seat.  These must have been installed when this train was built during the Eisenhower administration.  Not a good time to have a bony butt.  Ouch!

D:  This Regional train stops at every station.  A total of 25 stops in 50 miles.  No wonder it takes more than two hours.

K:  Yes, but we've been sitting at this spot between stations for 15 minutes now.  I don't think we're really even out of Katowice yet.

D:  Who was that guy who just stormed through toward the back of the train?  I think it was the engineer.  And he looked pretty annoyed.
(Train conductor walks into the car and makes an announcement.)
"Pociąg został zmieniony na błędnej ścieżce. Musimy odwrócić nasz kurs do poprzedniej stacji i zmieniać utwory tam."

K:  Wonder what that was about.  Did you see him snicker when I asked him for English?

D:  OK.  No one in our car speaks English, but that young woman with the green hair in the next car spoke enough to tell me that we are on the wrong track and have to go back to the last station to get on the right track.

K:  The Polish Express, eh?  Oops.  Here we go, back toward Katowice.

D:  What?  I can't hear you over the rattling of the rails in this bucket of bolts.  (yelling)  Remember what I said about train travel?  Let's take to the skies instead, OK?

K:  (yelling) No problem.

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After yesterday's full schedule, we had two missions in mind for today, obtaining train tickets to Krakow and doing a bit of letterboxing.  Our trip to the train station offered up a lesson in the limitations of flat maps.  To reach the train station, we needed to take a tram to a subway station, where we could transfer to a direct line to the central rail terminal.  We decided to ride Tram 9 to Svatoplukova, where the map showed subway access just around the corner.  What that flat city map was unable to show became clear to us after we exited the tram.  As the screen capture from Google's street view reveals below, the "around the corner" location, at the level of the elevated road, was about 100 feet higher than our tram stop, at street level in the photo.


With a bit of blundering and observing other pedestrians in the area, we located a series of stairways that eventually took us to the top just near the entrance to the metro station and thence on a speedy ride to Praha Hlavní Nádraží.  The large terminal offers domestic and international service, with more than 100,000 trains and 22 million passengers traveling through it annually.

The fare we purchased to Krakow tomorrow involves two transfers and is expected to take 7.5 hours to travel some 540 miles. We're hoping to be able to do some blogging on the way since we seem to be in a perpetual state of delinquency.

Then we were off to more interesting matters.  We trammed back over to the Little Quarter near our apartment to search for a couple of letterboxes hidden in the parks and green spaces of Petřín Hill.  One was just where the clue indicated, but the second, at the top of the hill, had apparently been the victim of winter since it had been hidden last spring in a deciduous hedge and was no doubt exposed and compromised when the leaves fell away.

After riding the funicular back down the hill, we found a spot to hide our own letterbox near a statue honoring Vitezslav Novak, a famous Czech musician and composer.

Prague's Hunger Wall

The letterbox we did find midway up Petřín Hill was hidden near Prague's historic Hunger Wall, a defensive wall built on the hill between 1360 and 1362.  Charles IV ordered the wall's construction to strengthen the fortifications of nearby Prague Castle.  According to legend, he was also motivated by a famine among the city's poor.  Work on the wall enabled them to buy food for their families.  Over the centuries, the wall has been repaired and modified numerous times.

Our missions complete, we returned to our apartment, called the Hunger Wall Residence because a small section of the original wall runs through its courtyard.  Thus ends our visit to Prague as we head off to Poland tomorrow.  We found the city beautiful to look at but a bit too overrun by tourists.  However, we would love to return to Czech out other parts of the country.

Since I first inadvertently invited this respiratory bug to join our trip in Iceland, we've apparently been passing it back and forth for the last three weeks.  At the urging of my slightly older and much wiser sister, who went so far as researching English-speaking physicians in Prague and emailing us names, we finally decided it was time to get serious about getting well.  Based on the ease with which the concierge in Casablanca obtained an eye appointment for Ken, we went to the hotel office and asked for assistance.  And were handed a reminder about levels of service and how they can vary.

Rather than handing us a doctor’s name, whose office had already been called and arrangements made, the agent on duty gave us the name of a building and told us to go to “a clinic on the ground floor, the first floor.”  Ken asked if they could arrange for a car and driver to take us there but was assured it was in easy walking distance.  Sure, but only if one is feeling well.  But we didn’t realize that at the time and off we went on foot.

A mile and a half later, hacking and coughing, we located the building to which we had been referred.  Upon entering, we realized that we had just been sent to a medical office building with no doctor’s name or office number.  Consulting the office directory posted on the wall near the entrance, with Google Translate in hand (hemorrhaging expensive roaming data usage), we found no suggestion of a clinic.  And the ground floor was Floor 0, not Floor 1.  We might have tried wandering into one of the offices that were not marked Gynekologie or Kardiologie and inquired of the staff if they might be operating a clinic.  Except all the office doors were locked and no one inside them responded to a knock.  That was clearly not the protocol. In a general waiting room area which appeared to serve all the offices, we tried to locate a pending patient who spoke English, but all shook their heads negatively.  (At least, that gesture was universal…here.)

Finally, we decided to abandon the impenetrable medical building and try a clinic Ken had found referenced on the U.S. Embassy web site.  We know what you’re thinking.  Why didn’t we try that first?  Well, we had similarly identified Casablanca doctors through the U.S. consulate there but had such a great experience with the hotel’s assistance, the government connection had become our back-up plan.  At any rate, we trudged around the corner, desperately wishing for a taxi to spirit us the mile or two to Poliklinika Narodni, whose web site promised U.S.-trained, English-speaking doctors on staff.  The taxi fairy bestowed a wide grin upon us at that exact moment and sent a taxi to the very spot where we were standing on the street corner.  No, really.  Two women exited the cab and we hopped gratefully in.

Arriving shortly at the clinic, we were also met with a locked door.  But this one had a sign, in both Czech and English, instructing visitors to ring the bell, which generated a prompt admittance.  The receptionist greeted us in English and handed us brief new patient forms to complete, which included a question asking whether this was a “pass-through” one-time visit.  (Certainly not their first rodeo!)  Within ten minutes, we were seen by Dr. Václav Beneš, who conducted a typical interview and respiratory examination before testing each of us for strep.  With both our test results negative, he diagnosed two cases of viral bronchitis and gave us an expectorant and iodine throat spray to kill the nasty virus.

This chore completed, we headed off for lunch, lucking out with a delicious meal at the nearby Café Savoy.  Restored by our first dose of medicine and a good meal, we decided to take a taxi to join the throngs of other tourists in Old Town Square (pictured at top of post).  Dating to the 10th century when it served as a primary marketplace in the growing city, the massive public space is ringed with architectural gems, but the one that attracts the most attention and the largest crowds—every hour, on the hour—is the 1410 astronomical clock on the Old Town Hall tower, purported to be the oldest device of this type still in working order.

Astronomical Clock

For those who know how to interpret its various dials, the clock displays the month and date, zodiac period, moon phase, other esoteric information, and in some cryptic manner indecipherable to the average human, the current time.  Like the thousands of other tourists dutifully gazing upward as their own comprehensible timepieces alerted the eminent striking of the hour, we awaited “the big show.”  Something special is going to happen, we had read and heard.  Finally, the clock struck three and the two windows above the clock face opened.  As a passel of patsies peered on, wooden figures of the twelve apostles paraded past the windows, a rooster crowed, and thousands of shoulders were shrugged.  Like so many before us, we came, we saw, and we wondered, "What’s all the fuss about?"   The line to climb the clock tower for a view of the square was much too long, so we moved on to the many other sights of Prague's Old Town.

Since we seemed to be in the gullible tourist mode and had put enough distance between us and Morocco to try food from a street vendor, we indulged in a couple of snacks very popular with tourists if not necessarily with locals.  The first was a lightly sweetened pastry, whose recipe was imported from Hungary in the late 1700s.  The trdelník is made from a long string of rolled dough spiraled around a large rod and cooked over an open fire rotisserie style, then topped with sugar and nuts.   Nutella was available for dipping, but we went for the straight trdelnik and found it to be pretty tasty.

Tornado potatoes

Trdelniks

Our second indulgence was a potato, spiral cut, skewered and deep fried, and known in some parts of the U.S. as a tornado potato, we have learned.  Certainly not a healthy alternative to anything and definitely one of those foods that looked better than it tasted.  It was quite attractive.  There must be something about the spiral that lured us but only because we were going for the full tourist experience today.  How else can you explain our momentary consideration of taking one of these for a spin?

Many carriage operators in Old Town are ready to offer tours.

Regaining some semblance of rational thought, we quit horsing around and went off in search of the entrance to the Church of our Lady before Tyn, one of the most distinguished symbols of Prague Gothic style.  Topped by alluring twin 260-ft. towers with gold-adorned spires, the church dominates Old Town and dates back to the 14th century.  With an exterior that inspiring, we were eager to see what lay within.

Church of Our Lady before Tyn

Slipping into the opening between buildings, we walked down an alley, certain we would reach the entrance, but we did not.  In fact, we encountered the side of the church, then the back of the church, then the other side of the church, returning us to the square.  After some poking into archways between sidewalk cafes on the square, we finally tracked down a surprisingly nondescript opening that led to this magnificent building's humble entrance.

This...

...led to this.

Unlike the entrance, the interior delivered what the towers promised, with an extensive collection of Gothic, Renaissance and Baroque art and monuments and a large number of preserved tombs, much of it gilded in harmony with the spires.  From this glittering extravagance, we wandered over to the nearby Jewish Quarter for a look at a much humbler structure, the Old-New Synagogue.  Yes, that is its official name.

One tourist group leaves the Old-New Synagogue as another approaches.

The oldest landmark of the Jewish Quarter of Prague and one of the oldest surviving synagogues in Europe, this venerable house of worship was built in the last third of the 13th century and has served as the heart of the city's Jewish community for more than 700 years.  Near the synagogue was the city's monument to one of the Jewish community's acclaimed residents.

Kafka Monument

Eighty years after his death, a monument to Franz Kafka, Prague's most famous literary native son, was dedicated in 2004 near what had been Kafka's residence in the Jewish Quarter. Created by a Czech sculptor, the 12-foot tall sculpture was inspired by one of Kafka's early stories and depicts a headless male figure in a suit with Kafka sitting on his shoulders.

Afternoon was fading into evening by the time we wandered back to Old Town Square and secured a taxi just as rain began to fall in earnest.  On our way back to the hotel, we watched a video we had recorded of Jazz No Problem Praha, a Prague-based Czech jazz band with a lead singer who is on a direct channel with...  Well, you listen, and you'll know immediately who his muse is. We also heard the group playing on Charles Bridge Monday afternoon.  Hear a sample here:  

     https://vimeo.com/95414600https://vimeo.com/95414600

Jazz No Problem in Prague

One more day in Prague tomorrow, and we have letterboxes to find and one to plant.

WEDNESDAY, 14 MAY 2014

Daily Stats

• Miles walked:  4.21
• Weather:  45° to 54°, sunny, PC, rain
• Tourists in Old Town Square:  93,815
• Tourists watching clock strike:  93,809
• Musical performers in square:  16
• Carriage operators:  10

Old Town Square = Tourists

Architectural elegance at the square

You can't have this many souvenir stands if you're not a tourist city