I could not have mistaken more and to schedule visit of museum on Monday. Well for the brain it certainly was not Monday because if there is another city and there is no work then it is more like weekend. And for sure there must be town where the museums are open every day of the week. In general after a small hysteria why the second museum is closed and finally having turned on the brain an action plan was quickly changed. And as it turned out it was only for the better because on the next day there was a free entrance in all museums. Well sometimes it is not so bad to make small missteps).
Big cemetery in Warsaw being rigorous and organized honestly resettled its inhabitants by categories and closed all the doors so that no one can violate the established order. Fenced off from the outside world by high walls it sullenly rolls withered foliage between the tombstones buried in the ground demanding silence. Even occasional visitors are required to comply with unconditional rules timidly following behind while the owner is showing his possession moving steadily along the damp alleys from one dead end to another. And as if the edification as a lesson not yet understood forced to return to the beginning where there is the only entrance and the only exit on his territory.
The first thing that immediately catches the eye is of course the Palace of Culture and Science. The gigantic Stalin’s machine is visible from almost anywhere in the city. And surprisingly that when so far it certainly visible that the building is very high but when coming closer you start to realize how really huge it is. This is not just a skyscraper it’s a huge giant towering over the city like an immense termitary raising over the grass nailed to the ground. Warsaw is trying to hide it among other skyscrapers but how such a giant can get lost among these smooth glass columns. Depersonalized they on the contrary only emphasize the silent superiority of this coarse carcass.
Today we are going to visit with you one of the oldest cities in Poland — Wrocław. Foggy and covered in autumn haze it is not very different from other Polish counterparts but still has its own special appeal. Initially its not even that you clearly understand what disturbs the eye. Everything is like everywhere else but something interferes. Huge contribution to this effect was made by members of the underground group Orange Alternative which operated in many cities of Poland and who called to little gnomes in an attempt to expose the absurdity of the pompous celebrations, empty slogans and administrative rules of the communist authorities. And only when lowering the eyes from the lost in the gray sky towers of Cathedrals you finally notice the tiny inhabitants of the city in the bronze caps.
On the day after Christmas Krakow finally perked up and began to booth creating a charming contrast between the quiet, lazy Christmas evening and a bright, sunny morning. The city was filled with excited people who want to grab something tasty and turn their faces to the winter sun. Being meek and resigned yesterday today they fill the streets with laughter and loud shouts. Only one Jewish quarter continues to sink into the soft silence when cars and trams can be head as if through cotton wool. Silent street with painted sides are slowly leading through their labyrinths ending the tour in the very heart — the Square of the Ghetto Heroes. Every iron chair is like a reproach, like an obelisk of all that grief and despair and every unfulfilled hope. And even though the area is almost empty it feels like there is nothing to breathe among this invisible crowd of doomed eyes.