Gdansk, Poland
We were up early to grab some food while the ship docked in Gdanya, then went to the Rendezvous Lounge to get our bus assignment for "Gdansk and Malbork Castle." Impressive-looking Polish officials (ie, they had really wide saucer caps) checked our passports before we disembarked.
Our guide, Elwira, talked about area history as we drove the two hours to Malbork Castle; we were definitely not the only ones who fell asleep. Malbork is the largest medieval castle in Europe, and was home to the Teutonic knights. About half of it was destroyed in WWII; some rooms have been restored and re-opened as recently as this year, but the massive St. Mary's Chapel remains relatively untouched (its roof has been temporarily repaired with concrete slabs, and that's about it). I thought photography was not allowed inside, but eventually there were so many people taking pictures, I decided to join them.
We were separated from our group while going through the newest exhibit: arms and armor, featuring enormous silk battle flags in surprisingly good condition. We met up with another couple and headed toward a very narrow, very long spiral staircase Elwira had warned us about earlier, and passed another guide from our ship who pointed us in the right direction. When we found Elwira, she was on a smoke break and very surprised to see us, since she'd already dropped the rest of the group off at the restaurant for lunch. Lunch consisted of soup with egg and sausage; roast pork, boiled potatoes, and cabbage; marble sponge cake; and bottles of beer on every table. Most of our table wasn't drinking, so hey, free beer.
Back on the bus to Gdansk, we fell asleep again (did I mention beer?), but did at least wake up for the stork sightings along the way. We entered Gdansk via the Green Gate, entering a city square that had been destroyed in the war but rebuilt to look like it had before the bombings (with modern buildings behind the facades), since that style of architecture represented the city's most prosperous period. Our first stop was at an amber store, where I watched a presentation on amber while Greg got in the long line to utilize the facilities. With all the amber available to us throughout the Baltic region (and particularly in Gdansk), the only thing we ever even considered buying was a pair of dice; unfortunately, when they get big enough to be something you'd actually be able to use, they start to get priced out of our range.
The Town Hall of Gdansk had gorgeous clocks on its tower, as well as a sundial. Also in the square is a statue of Neptune that has become an icon of the town. But what we were here to see was another St. Mary's, an enormous brick church with a floor made entirely of headstones. Originally a Catholic church, it then became more or less ecumenical until the protestants forced the Catholics out...and painted over all the frescoes. White paint. Frescoes. I mean, I'm all about protestantism, but that's just stupid. Due to the war, the organ and pulpit are from another church, and the stained glass is from the 1950s. Original features still in place, though, are a monstrously elaborate 15th-century astronomical clock, and a painting of the last judgement that everybody and his brother has stolen at one point or another (the painting is at one end of the church, and the bulletproof case the mayor had made for it is at the other; let the Polish jokes commence!).
We walked around the corner to the tiny church the ousted Catholics had built, and Elwira sent us all off to wander around on our own. We waded through the tourists and amber stores to a neat 15th-century crane over the river, then walked along the river for a bit and all the way across the original town to the Gold Gate before getting back to the meeting point. Back on the bus, we acquired four stragglers from another tour who complained mightily about their guide and asked pithy questions like "Who's Lech Walesa?" Pretty much if you have a history question I can answer, you've got problems.
Rush hour traffic back to Gdanya was ridiculous, and we got to the ship one minute before departure. We risked the glares of the dress code mavens by going directly to dinner. None of us realized it was the fourth of July until a table of presumably tipsy Americans on the opposite side of the room started singing "God Bless America."
Pedometer count: 11,708
Our guide, Elwira, talked about area history as we drove the two hours to Malbork Castle; we were definitely not the only ones who fell asleep. Malbork is the largest medieval castle in Europe, and was home to the Teutonic knights. About half of it was destroyed in WWII; some rooms have been restored and re-opened as recently as this year, but the massive St. Mary's Chapel remains relatively untouched (its roof has been temporarily repaired with concrete slabs, and that's about it). I thought photography was not allowed inside, but eventually there were so many people taking pictures, I decided to join them.
We were separated from our group while going through the newest exhibit: arms and armor, featuring enormous silk battle flags in surprisingly good condition. We met up with another couple and headed toward a very narrow, very long spiral staircase Elwira had warned us about earlier, and passed another guide from our ship who pointed us in the right direction. When we found Elwira, she was on a smoke break and very surprised to see us, since she'd already dropped the rest of the group off at the restaurant for lunch. Lunch consisted of soup with egg and sausage; roast pork, boiled potatoes, and cabbage; marble sponge cake; and bottles of beer on every table. Most of our table wasn't drinking, so hey, free beer.
Back on the bus to Gdansk, we fell asleep again (did I mention beer?), but did at least wake up for the stork sightings along the way. We entered Gdansk via the Green Gate, entering a city square that had been destroyed in the war but rebuilt to look like it had before the bombings (with modern buildings behind the facades), since that style of architecture represented the city's most prosperous period. Our first stop was at an amber store, where I watched a presentation on amber while Greg got in the long line to utilize the facilities. With all the amber available to us throughout the Baltic region (and particularly in Gdansk), the only thing we ever even considered buying was a pair of dice; unfortunately, when they get big enough to be something you'd actually be able to use, they start to get priced out of our range.
The Town Hall of Gdansk had gorgeous clocks on its tower, as well as a sundial. Also in the square is a statue of Neptune that has become an icon of the town. But what we were here to see was another St. Mary's, an enormous brick church with a floor made entirely of headstones. Originally a Catholic church, it then became more or less ecumenical until the protestants forced the Catholics out...and painted over all the frescoes. White paint. Frescoes. I mean, I'm all about protestantism, but that's just stupid. Due to the war, the organ and pulpit are from another church, and the stained glass is from the 1950s. Original features still in place, though, are a monstrously elaborate 15th-century astronomical clock, and a painting of the last judgement that everybody and his brother has stolen at one point or another (the painting is at one end of the church, and the bulletproof case the mayor had made for it is at the other; let the Polish jokes commence!).
We walked around the corner to the tiny church the ousted Catholics had built, and Elwira sent us all off to wander around on our own. We waded through the tourists and amber stores to a neat 15th-century crane over the river, then walked along the river for a bit and all the way across the original town to the Gold Gate before getting back to the meeting point. Back on the bus, we acquired four stragglers from another tour who complained mightily about their guide and asked pithy questions like "Who's Lech Walesa?" Pretty much if you have a history question I can answer, you've got problems.
Rush hour traffic back to Gdanya was ridiculous, and we got to the ship one minute before departure. We risked the glares of the dress code mavens by going directly to dinner. None of us realized it was the fourth of July until a table of presumably tipsy Americans on the opposite side of the room started singing "God Bless America."
Pedometer count: 11,708
Labels: honeymoon
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