I was really worried about going to Cracow. But not because I thought I’d get kidnapped in a taxi and wake up with both-kidneys-a-lung-and-my-liver removed (that’s a fear I reserve only for Latin America). No, I was deeply afraid that I’d be instantly captivated by Cracow—and that I’d wish I spent my semester there instead of dreary old Warsaw.
Talking to other people, the unanimous opinion emerged that Cracow is vastly superior—culturally, architecturally and interestingly—to Warsaw. With that in mind, I prepared for the worst.
Well, Wawel was very cool and I’m so glad that I was fortunate enough to see it (and on Night of the Museums, no less—we got in for free). And I don’t yet know how influential the Marcin Maciejowski exhibition in Cracow’s National Museum will have been for me. (You’ll see.) If you’re so inclined, check out his work; he’s good.
But, overall, I am proud to report that Cracow isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, and my happiness with fortune for tossing me in Warsaw has at least doubled. (So glad I didn’t intend that to be a pun; I’d be ashamed of myself.) Cracow’s a lot smaller and a lot older. It has some really nice architecture and gardens, but all the modern-looking signs and posters take away from their integrity. Sure, Warsaw has its modern-looking signs and posters, but at least here they fit better.
Cracow itself feels cramped. Moreover, the streets are tiny and full full full of tourists bobbling here and there (even British ones in king crab Halloween costumes making lots of noise while sitting in cafes).
So anyway, Cracow is nice to visit, but I’m glad I’m living in Warsaw.
Oh, also visited Auschwitz… It is, as you might expect, a very terrible place.
To cheer you up, I’ll leave you with this:
