An Idée Fantastique…

This morning I am sitting at the Eurostar terminal at St Pancras International.

I’m here early, having woken at the same (ridiculous) time as a normal workday and decided that instead of lolling about under the covers, I would head down for a perfect mini-break breakfast (Mark II) of scrambled eggs, smoked salmon and rye toast. (Mark I – consisting of fresh blackberries and yoghurt – was around 6.30am.)

Replete, I’ve now positioned myself in a comfy chair within eyesight of the boarding screen and have a little over half an hour to wait until train 9018 departs for its glorious cross-channel run.

Yes peeps, I’m off to Paris.

I’ve been to the City of Lights before but the last trip was in 2003. That’s a whole ten years ago so a couple of weeks back I decided that taking an extra day around this already 3 day Bank Holiday weekend and treating myself to a May mini-break was an idée fantastique.

The weather promises to be dry and in the high teens (celsius that is) with some sunny periods so my light layers are packed, my camera is close at hand and with the main tourist sights already ‘in the bag’, I’m ready to wander, eat, drink, shop, wander some more and breathe in the Gallic charm of this metropolitan monument to the romantic spirit.

Boarding has now started so I bid au revoir to the week that was…

…and a cheery bonjour to *gay paree*.

ps…I may or not not post while I am there – it largely depends on whether I can find time between the wandering, eating, drinking, shopping and wandering some more…c’est la vie!

Travel Broadens The Mind…Globetrotting

I’ve been travelling this week peeps and being as I had to shut Audrey down for take off and landing, BA’s business:life magazine got a pretty good going over. So I’ve found a whole lot of new travel trivia to broaden your mind/help you win your next pub quiz.

Let’s start with the big picture.

It would seem that the economic climate has not done anything to significantly dampen our wanderlust with the number of international tourists increasing by 4% last year to 1.035bn. Where they have been going, who knows. But I’ll bet it’s not to one of the world’s ten most pessimistic nations, eight of which are in Europe.

Britain’s youngsters are also doing their bit to boost the travel dollar with 78% of them having travelled abroad at least once and more than 38,000 of them flying out of Heathrow on BA unaccompanied last year. Perhaps they are off to see one or two of the 79% of British expats who have no intention of returning to the UK. Or perhaps a bit of fiscal squeezing – after all £26,500 is the average full-time salary in Britainmeans that the precious little darlings are simply leaving Mummy and Daddy at home.

But let’s think about some other possible reasons for fleeing England’s green pastures grey dampness. Contrary to what you may be expecting, I’m not putting the weather at the top of the list although it’s probably up there. But the Brits already love to moan about weather that’s uncomfortable, inconvenient and inclement and quite frankly, need no futher encouragement.

No, it would appear that there may be a darker tale to be told. 

It would seem that 53% of UK employees think it is OK to steal confidential corporate data – I’ll bet you anything you like that their employers are a little less accepting. But as 68% of UK private sector employees are not members of a workplace retirement scheme, I’ll leave you to do the maths on what the benefits of such information-gathering may bring and how all those English expats can afford to stay abroad.

So what else could one do with a few extra quid? Well, you could book yourself in to a Moscow hotel room – you’ll find the most expensive rooms in the world there – or treat yourself to a little nip and tuck and become just another one of the 15 million people around the world having plastic surgery (or they were in 2011 anyway).

But if you are not inclined to such corporate indiscretion, you may well have been exposed in other ways, finding yourself on someone’s social media feed, the focal point of a work Christmas ‘do’ montage. You’d be in the minority though as only 11% of British workers have had embarrassing photos taken of them at a work event and uploaded to a social media site.

London’s Lord Mayor Boris Johnson ‘hanging around’.

In the meantime, it would seem that while the rest of the world embraces the wonders of modern technology (did you know that 75% of the world’s heads of state are on Twitter), the French remain firmly rooted in the antiquated traditonal: 46 cheques are issued per person per year in France compared with the average across all 17 EC members states being two. Vive la penmanship!

And just when you thought, after roaming the world botoxed and sans parents, you’d return to the comfortable and familiar, it’s all change back in Ol’ Blighty with Polish officially becoming Britain’s second language.

It leaves me wondering how ‘cor blimey guv’nor’ translates…

————————————
Travel Broadens The Mind – Back Catalogue
…Worrywarts
…Let’s Play!
…It’s A Virtual Life
…The Euro Zone
…All About The Readies
…Flights Of Fancy
…Or So They Say

Everything Old Is New Again…

Being in Melbourne over these last couple of weeks has given me the opportunity to revisit some of my favourite haunts and one of these is Southgate. This cosmopolitan stretch of shops, restaurants and cafes line the Yarra River between Princess Bridge and the Crown Casino complex and offers wonderful views of the City Centre across the tree-lined river.

This view takes in the ‘expensive end’ of the City – where Victorian Parliament, designer shops and many of the banks’ head offices are located – as well as the spires of Melbourne’s own St Paul’s Cathedral in the foreground.
A great juxtaposition of the elegant clock tower of Flinders Street Station (built in 1910 to replace the previous station built in 1854) against the more modern buildings behind.

The day we were there it was a gloriously sunny Sunday morning and this riverside precinct was buzzing with activity.

Street entertainers attract a fair crowd…
…while quirky sculpture adds local colour.
Crown Towers Hotel offers premier accommodation for both high rollers as well as those wishing to spend just a few dollars.

But being away means that each time I come back, there’s something new in the landscape. Six years ago, Melbourne’s newest tallest building, Eureka Tower, sliced into the skyline.

Eureka Tower is Melbourne’s tallest building…but only since 2006.

This time it was The Docklands that captured my imagination. When I left in 2004, this area of Melbourne was early in its development so I was curious to see how things had turned out.

View of Melbourne from The Docklands with Etihad Stadium (venue for football matches, concerts and the like) in the centre.

The thing that struck me most were the stark and modern shapes…

New ‘rooms with a view’.
This ‘car park in progress’ generated discussion about its interesting facade.
I love the use of adventurous shapes and textures which really typifies iconic Australian architecture for me.


And there’s even a nod to old London Town with Melbourne’s very own ‘Eye’…

Melbourne’s Southern Star awaiting the installation of its viewing pods. Again lots of opinions amongst Family Hamer about its false start (cracks found in the infrastructure apparently) and its location overlooking Melbourne’s Western suburbs.

So whilst my Melbourne meanderings evoked many wonderful memories, I found much to admire about the clever blend of nostalgia and innovation into a spectacular cityscape…

…and it just makes me wonder what I’ll find next time.

The Heat Is On…

Some of you may know that I have ventured Down Under for the festive season this year. Well Christmas has been done, with many a cold cut and cooling beverage and much SPF30 application. Yes folks, it’s warm!

Since my arrival on Sunday in 38.3C, I have been marvelling at how poorly I handle the heat now, particularly when I must do more than lie by the pool and read. But I will do my best to aclimatise so that I can return to the UK glorious and glowing…so that I can rub your noses in it cover it all up with winter woollies.

We’ve been out and about a bit with a Boxing Day trip down to my old stomping ground, Frankston, to see the Sand Sculptures again (more on this in a later post peeps). Suffice to say everything and nothing has changed since I lived there almost 20 years ago…

Frankston Pier hasn’t changed a bit and I remember many a walk along it as a teenager at the end of a day at the beach with friends. It looks empty here but it was buzzing with people about an hour later.
Kananook Creek has had a real makeover with picnic spots and a boardwalk up to the beach. It was not so nice when I was living here.
Boating is big here and in my youth there was many a day spent water-ski-ing or fishing (well that’s the boys fishing and me lying on the front bit of the boat getting a tan).

And under yesterday’s summery skies, there was nothing for it but to have some fish and chips under a shady tree for lunch.
 

 That’s a nice piece of blue grenadier nestled against a yummy corn jack and scrumptious chips. And in the background, that’s a can of Creaming Soda, not really to my taste but I’ve been on an Australian foodie nostalgia trip – aka ‘oooh I haven’t had that for yeeeeeears!’ – since I arrived.

Lil Chicky has just arrived and we are off for a day of pampering and relaxing together so hope your Christmas has been a good one and you are making the most of whatever the season has to offer wherever you are.

Much Ado About (Doing) Nothing…

By the time you read this, I will have fled the chill in old London Town to sun myself in Langkawi.

For those of you who don’t know, Langkawi is a collection of 99 islands just off the Malaysian Peninsula in the Andaman Sea.

Whilst I’ve been lucky enough to travel a lot this year, exploring new places and reacquainting myself with others, I have not had a ‘do nothing’ beach holiday for about 4 years so back in April, I decided to spend a few pennies and book myself a week in an upmarket pad at the Pelangi Beach Resort and Spa. And after months of waiting for a mere splash of warm sunshine, you can probably imagine that it was with much excitement that I boarded the A380 at Heathrow, especially after a week of sub-zero mornings.

So far I’ve slept (in bed, by the pool), read (in bed, by the pool) and generally moved at a rather lethargic pace. I’ve visited the beach, the bar(s), both resort pools and the spa and my plan is to repeat this pattern for the remainder of my week here. After all, I didn’t pay for a lovely room in an upmarket resort to look around elsewhere or make any more perplexing decisions than which pool vs the beach and which book to read next.

Just in case you were wondering what this level of luscious lethargy looks like, here are a few pics of my inactivity-packed sojourn so far…

DAY1: Arriving in the morning meant my room was not ready so I was forced to wander around and admire the views – this one is just begging for an audience don’t you think?
Once my room was ready, all I had to do was sit on my balcony admiring the view…and wait for my luggage which missed the connecting flight from Kuala Lumpur to Langkawi. No big surprise as I had to sprint down the length of one terminal, get on the train to the other terminal, clear customs and security and run halfway up the other terminal to get said flight. I achieved this, sweating and panting, in 20 minutes. My bag did not.
DAY 2: After an hysterical emotional reunion with my luggage last night and a rather average night’s sleep, I transferred my bikini’ed self to a sun lounge beside the pool for a few hours this morning before heading off to the spa. As it has done each afternoon since I got here, a brief (20 minute-ish) yet heavy shower came down during my walk back, but I just had to stop and snap this allamanda. We had these growing all over our side fence when I lived in Brisbane in the 70s so I had a little moment of childish (and wet) nostalgia.
DAY 3: Time for a proper beach walk so up at 8-ish for a 40 minute stroll. This colourful local is flying a flag close to my heart…
…while this one seemd to have taken a rather long and winding road.
As for my bikini’ed good self, I took my pretty paws (thanks to yesterday’s spa visit) off to the Cascade Pool for the day. (There’s a bar in the pool off to the left of the photo so don’t worry, I didn’t go thirsty.)
DAY 4: Hot and humid again today (surprise!) so it’s back to the Horizons Pool (see DAY 2) for more lying about and reading…
…before a spot of lunch overlooking the beach.
I liked it so much there that I went back that night…
…for a couple of these.

And do you know what? I have plans to simply press repeat and do it all over again. Such are the hardships I must endure.

Sigh…

Another Spotlit Stage…

It all started in Seville in 2002. It was an additional excursion, added on top of an already busy trip. Tourist-y it may have been but it was spell-binding.

In the deepening twilight, we’d driven down from our dinner in the hillside village of Mijas Pueblo to join the throngs at a tablaos flamencos in Seville. It was crowded and we had to push our way through to our reserved seating in the front rows (one of the perks of much-maligned organised tours). 

Before long the show began: the pounding feet, arched poses and haughty profiles holding my attention, challenging me to avert my gaze elsewhere if I dared. Women danced, men danced, women and men danced together. Skirts and shawls swirled and swayed, fingers flicked and clicked and the cantaores (singers) wailed and clapped. It was powerful and passionate and provocative.

Then a small man took the stage. He was not handsome or well-built. He had a hard, weathered face and a small wiry frame.  But he exuded a raw magnetism and as his heels started their gentle tempo against the floor, he looked out into the darkened audience over his hooked nose, turned swiftly, sharply and raised his arms.

From my seat in the front row, I could feel the heat of his body, see the beads of sweat rising on his face as he pounded the floor. I held my breath, my heart thumping in my chest and my eyes glued to this stomping, whirling, arrogant dervish in front of me. It seemed to last forever and be over in a minute. As he remained still for that last time, it was a few seconds before I could leap to my feet and applaud, so mesmerised was I by his performance.

Ten years later, my pulse still races when I remember the man on that small stage in Seville, dancing with such arrogance and magnetism. And it fuelled an ongoing desire to immerse myself in that wonderful Flamenco spirit at every opportunity.

This weekend I went to see Paco Pena and his Flamenco Dance Company at Sadler’s Wells. It’s the third time I have been to see this unassuming master of plucking, picking and strumming since I’ve lived in London and he has lost none of his musical magic.

This latest show, Quimeras, is a fusion of Spain and Africa. It is filled with foot stamping, arm waving movement that spends two hours weaving in and out of haunting wails and tempestuous rhythms. It was unbelievably good. So good that I was on my feet at the end, cheering and clapping until my arms hurt.


Yet for all its wonderful-ness, as I walked back to Angel tube station, my mind wandered and I was taken back to another small man on another spotlit stage.

My heart skipped a beat and my soul soared again.

Travel Broadens The Mind…Worrywarts

I have been a bit of a travelling wilbury of late, meaning much mile-high consumption of a vast range of reading material. Audrey‘s had quite a workout but with the rules being what they are, there are about 20 minutes per flight when, after dutifully switching her off for take-off and landing, I wonder what to do with myself. And that’s when BA’s business:life magazine comes to the fore.

There’s been a bit of a change in format with the latest edition and I’m not sure of some of the new ‘regulars’ (rare earth metal of the month being the most random). But you’ll be pleased to know that the fascinating facts are still there so I’m delighted to bring you this latest edition of Travel Broadens The Mind.

This post’s theme has been inspired by the pessimism of the British. Amazingly, in this nation of worrywartsone quarter of Britain’s HR Executives have no formal policy to manage employee stress and anxiety.

It’s a big problem. British workers have a lot to contend with on a daily basis. I mean did you know that they lose 10 million individual socks each year?


I wonder where all of the lost socks go. A lot seem to disappear in my washing machine, odd socks finding their way into my basket without their significant other. Sometimes I find a rogue sock ensconsed in a trouser leg but some seem to have disappeared for all eternity. business:life reveals that there’s a fair bit of clutter in the average UK attic – £2,800 worth in fact. Gidday HQ doesn’t have an attic but does have a cellar – do you think they might be there?

In the meantime, what should one do? I’m not sure about wearing odd socks so should one buy all socks the same so that they can be re-paired with new matchy mates? It’s quite a conundrum. Particularly since 1 in 3 UK women hates shopping for clothes. (For the record, I’m in the two thirds.)


Maybe it’s best to take a rest from the issue at hand altogether. Not only does a holiday sound like an excellent plan but by getting the destination right, you can actually avoid sock-gate altogether with a range of sandals, slides and flip flops thongs (unless you are a socks and sandals kind of saddo gal/guy). But it will likely take you 9 days to get back into a work routine after returning from holiday so all of those HR executives will have just a little bit more to worry about.

Just goes to show what goes around comes around.

But it won’t be long before the stress-o-meter will be up again – at least for the 14 million families in Britain living with unfinished home improvements.

Because let’s face it.

There’s nothing like an un-done to-do list to give you something to worry about.

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Travel Broadens The Mind – Back Catalogue
…Let’s Play!
…It’s A Virtual Life
…The Euro Zone
…All About The Readies
…Flights Of Fancy
…Or So They Say

Travel Broadens The Mind…Let’s Play!

I’ve been travelling of late so it’s time for another dip into BA’s business:life magazine for a few fascinating facts to top up your dinner party conversation. And in the spirit of all work and no play making for a rather dull life (as the saying goes), I thought we’d delve into the subject of play and what makes a Brit get ‘social’.

First it has to be said that the divide between work and play is ever-blurred with 1 in 3 Britons meeting most of their friends through work. I concur heartily with this generalisation, my own personal experience being that much of this friend-making occurs after work. And with one year in the life of the average Briton spent drinking in the pub, I’d suggest that if you are feeling ‘lonesome tonight’, the best advice would appear to be polish up your drinking boots.

Speaking of drinking boots, did you know that £2.5bn is spent annually by British women on uncomfortable shoes? Me neither. (Although now that Seattle-A has departed these shores, that figure may come down a bit.)

Drinking boots come in many different shapes and sizes…

Another £1bn a year is donated lost by British gamblers in slot machines – perhaps these are the same people – the 44% of Britons – who don’t consider pensions to be a source of retirement funding. Hmmm sounds to me like there’ll be no more Choo Shoes for Granny…. 

But there’s still plenty of fun to be had on the cheap  All you need to do is listen to the voice within58 mintues a week being the average time Britons have a catchy song stuck in their heads – probably from listening to the tune some ear-plugged and oblivious dude is availing everyone else of in the train carriage/bus/general vicinity. Or you could hang out down at the farm. Yes, 77% of farmers play music to their livestock – although I would not suggest getting jiggy with…well anything…while you’re down there.

And finally let me astound you with a little bit of amazing arithmetic. There are 28.5 million cars on British roads and 10 million fixed penalty notices were issued to British motorists in the last 12 months. That’s…um…*screws up face*…erm…*counts on fingers*…er…*resorts to calculator*…a little less than 1 in 3 vehicles that earned themselves a little special attention for speeding, having a broken headlight, not wearing a seatbelt (that’d be the occupants of said vehicle) or parking in the vicinity of a really confusing sign.

And if you find yourself a little short of paying, you can ask your retired parents or grandparents to release a little equity from their bricks and mortar – 31% will do it to help their nearest and dearest.

I wonder what the percentage is Down Under?

Mum? Dad?

————————————————–
Travel Broadens The Mind – Back Catalogue
…It’s A Virtual Life
…The Euro Zone
…All About The Readies
…Flights Of Fancy
…Or So They Say

Eat, Sleep and Be Merry…

Over the last couple of posts, I have shared quite a sombre side of my Krakow experience. And it is true that the dark period in Krakow’s past is an essential part of understanding its character and place as an historic and cultural centre of Eastern Europe.

But Krakow is also filled with a sense of warmth and joyful spirit. The people are friendly. Its medieval history is stamped indelibly in its glorious architecture, cobbled streets and picturesque plazas. It has a wonderful – and accessible – music scene, delicious food and a rich spiritual lineage as a main centre for Catholicism in Europe.

For my part, it would be a shame to let a dark past overshadow your armchair tour of this beautiful and soulful city. I had such a great time that it would be remiss of me not to encourage you to visit. And what better way to wrap everything up than by giving you a list of my favourite bits and a few recommendations to boot. So here goes…

Eat
Generally food is tasty, filling and good value and the best local tipples are beer and vodka. (The Poles are not hugely into wine, but this market is growing.) Suffice to say I ate and drank well.

I tried both pierogi and borscht for the first time on this trip – with great success I must say. And my top dining out tip? Miod Malina (translates to Honey Raspberry) a short walk from Rynek Glowny towards Wawel Castle. I sat outside and enjoyed a glass of wine and three delicious courses to the strains of a classical string duet…for about £20.

My first pierogi (dumplings) – sitting looking over the hustle and bustle of the main square on Day 1 – were filled with a delicious mix of cabbage and mushroom. My second helping was on Night 2 (at Miod Malina) – a scrumptious blueberry version served with soured cream. Sigh…I ‘heart’ pierogi!

Sleep
Spacious, cheerful and unbelievable value – that’s Hotel Benefis. This small 4 storey hotel sits across the river from the main hubbub of Krakow but it’s only a 15 minute walk to Rynek Glowny. I had a large 4th floor room with a balcony and a view of the spires of the Wawel Cathedral, Main Square Tower and Mariacka Basilica for slightly less than the price I paid for a box-size room in Rome. Oh and the staff are great.

Hotel Benefis –  highly recommended!

Be Merry
Without a doubt, music be the food of Krakow and play on it did from the bugler’s haunting hejnal from the tower of Mariacka Basilica each hour, an impromptu choir outside the Church of St Adalbert in Rynek Glowny and any number of concert options for a bargain price. You may sniff at the leaflet bearers and their nightly programs as ‘tourist-y’ but for the equivalent of about £12, it is possible to enjoy a healthy dose of the remarkable talent available in this incredibly musical city. Here’s just two:

Day 1: Chamber music at the Church of St Peter and Paul
The Thursday billing was Classical and Film Music so there was the well-known – Mozart, and Vivaldi, Over The Rainbow and Schlinder’s List – and some new discoveries for me. As I sat in that glorious church, the haunting notes of Morricone’s Once Upon A Time In America filling the nave, I felt moved and incredibly blessed to be there.

The Church of St Peter & Paul

Day 3: Chopin at Bonerowski Palace
Chopin is one of Krakow’s most famous sons and every night you’ll find concerts throughout the city featuring his music. The deft fingers of Pawel Kubica introduced me to my first Chopin on a sparkling Saturday evening that had been left refreshed by the day’s rain.

The salon at Bonerowski Palace

Aside from music, there are many other treats in store if you get yourself to this delightful city. Mariacka Basilica, with its uneven towers soaring above Rynek Glowny, is glorious inside and lush with intricate detail. Rynek Underground is a fascinating museum located under the Cloth Hall in the Main Square which traces the archaelogical history of Krakow. And make sure you wander past The Papal Window and give a nod to Poland’s other favourite son, Karol Wojtyla, who moved to Krakow to attend university, joined the underground seminary during the occupation and rose through the ranks of the Catholic church to be elected its 264th pope, John Paul II, in 1978.
 

The Cloth Hall in Rynek Glowny. There’s a market inside but its real treasure lies underneath.

So that’s it. Four days in Krakow filled with amazing and moving experiences that I’ve done my best to share with you through this series.

I hope you’ve been inspired to visit.
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Other posts in the Krakow series
It Starts With The Locals
Lightly Salted
The Dark Side
A Monstrous Vision

A Monstrous Vision…

After spending the day before wandering though the old Jewish areas of Krakow, I boarded a bus on a grey drizzly Saturday morning for my visit to Auschwitz-Birkenau. I wasn’t sure what to expect – of the day or of myself – and the mood was stilted, even restrained, as the coach wove through the busy traffic and out into the green and undulating Polish countryside.

Auschwitz is actually 3 camps – Auschwitz I, Auschwitz II (Birkenau) and Auschwitz III (Monowitz-Buna, a work camp built near the I.G. Farben industrial complex, which wasn’t part of this visit) – as well as a network of 45 subcamps in the surrounding area. 

Our visit took us first to Auschwitz I, a group of 16 brick buildings surrounded by lush trees and the ubiquitous electric fence.

About to enter Auschwitz I

Once we’d passed through the gates and followed our local guide down the dusty path to the centre of the camp, it was obvious how compact the site was, not at all what I’d expected.

The buildings here were Polish army barracks prior to Nazi occupation and throughout the camp’s operation, more than 17,000 men, women and children marched under ‘work will set you free’, to the strident beat of the camp orchestra, and populated the bare floors, crowded beds, prison cells and medical wards of this, the base of the Third Reich’s Final Solution in Poland. 

Arbeit macht frei – work will set you free.

In fact, most of the inmates were not ‘local’. The camps were well-positioned for transportation from other points within Nazi Germany’s rapidly-expanding reach – places like Austria, Czechoslovakia and Romania to name just a few – and so this and the other camps became a veritable Babel, with the only common language being terror.

One display cabinet was filled with the suitcases and baskets that once held the possessions of these displaced people.

Auschwitz I was not only the base camp but also a place of significant experimentation. Genetic experiments were carried out to develop methods promoting multiple births, an essential part of Hitler’s plan to populate Eastern Europe with the Ayran Race he so admired. (During the same period, men were castrated to prevent the proliferation of undesirables.)

And the testing of the pesticide Zyklon B’s effectiveness as a human exterminant occurred here in preparation for its wider application at Birkenau.

After 2 hours walking in and out of the old barracks and even into the gas chamber where Zyklon B was first tested, all the while trying to absorb the overwhelming monstrosity of Hitler’s vision, we were given a short comfort break before boarding the coach for part two of our visit. (Believe me, paying for a pee here seemed a really small price to pay!)

Birkenau is enormous and it’s here where the largest number of people were murdered during World War II. Building (by the inmates themselves mind you) commenced in 1941 to ease congestion in the other camps but it was on such a scale that there can be no doubt that its purpose was to extinguish the lives of all who entered.


This photo was taken at the ‘sorting’ point looking back to the main entrance. This is the point where hundreds of thousands were bundled out of locked rail cars, separated from their loved ones and worldly goods, and selected to either remain in the camp or make the long march to the ‘showers’ at the back of the complex.

The ruins of two of the crematoriums have long since ceased to pose a threat but walking around the remains felt sinister – I could feel the absolute and unremitting purposeful-ness of Hitler’s Final Solution.

Between the two ruins lies the monument to those that died here.

‘For let this place be a cry of despair and a warning to humanity. Where the Nazis murdered about one and a half million men, women and children, mainly Jews, from the countries of Europe.’
The plaque appears 28 times along the monument, translated into every langauge spoken by the inmates of Birkenau.

The bus was quiet on the way back to Krakow and alone with my thoughts,I tried to process all that I’d seen. 

I was horrified by Auschwitz. The inhumane experiments, the displays of surrendered possessions, the inmate photos lining the walls, and the prison – with its starvation and its standing cells designed to punish those who disobeyed by punishing their comrades. I felt the sting of tears blinked away several times here.

But I was numbed by the scale of Birkenau. It’s difficult even now to find the words. I still think about standing on those train tracks, watching them disappear towards the crematorium ruins and the forest surrounding the camp, and silently wondering ‘How? How could that be?’
 
It still catches me out, filling my mind’s eye in the middle of my day-to-day when I least expect it.

Perhaps it always will.

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Other posts in the Krakow series:
It Starts With The Locals
Lightly Salted
The Dark Side 
Eat, Sleep And Be Merry