30th May – 4th June 2024
For a couple of non-practicing Anglicans, we sure are finding ourselves a lot of Catholic people, places, parades and paintings as we progress through Poland. With about 75% of the population of about 38.5 million identifying as Catholic, it is definitely the dominant religion of the land and there is a seemingly infinite array of beautiful and impressive churches to explore and admire. Our travels are often fairly freeform, taking in some obvious tourist attractions whilst also happily happening upon the less conventional and slightly esoteric places and events.
This is how we ended up in the lesser visited town of Łowic (pronounced Wo-vich). The 30th of May, unbeknownst to us non-Catholics, was to be another big day in the religious calendar: The Feast of Corpus Christi. This is when Catholics celebrate the ‘Body of Christ’ and how mass, communion and taking the sacrament is central to their faith. I think. Sorry to all my Catholic friends if I have misinterpreted it. Corpus Christi is celebrated with a special mass and often a parade and in Poland it is a public holiday. Łowic has one of the most important parades in this part of Poland and as we happened to be passing we decided to stop and experience it. As it is not a classic way-point on the tourist trail the town does not have a formal camping site, but there was a carpark alongside the park where spending the night was permitted. We arrived the day before the celebrations and settled in. We thought that it might be busy as thousands of people reportedly travel to the town for the day, but there were no other campervans here. It was a nice spot, away from the main road, surrounded by parkland and would have been quite tranquil were if it was not, as we discovered the hard way, a popular evening meeting spot for boy-racers, motor bikes and people with loud voices. I slept ok thanks to a damn fine set of ear plugs, but Nick was awake most of the night. In the morning we wandered into town and followed the general drift of people, all dressed in their Sunday best, towards the old square and the basillica.
Here mass was underway in the church and was being broadcast to the gathering crowds by loud speakers. We stood amongst the melée waiting for it to finish and the parade to begin. Finally it did and there was a civilised crush to see the paraders who were mostly dressed in traditional Polish costume and carrying banners. The parade then took off -slowly- around the town, stopping at various other churches for further prayers.
By now it was lunchtime and we had worked up a hunger listening to lots of religious stuff in a language we didn’t understand, so we retreated to find a purveyor of a hot Polish sausage in a bun. Near where we were parked we had seen lots of stalls being set up earlier in the morning. Surely that would be the place! It came as a great disappointment to us that there were NO hot food stalls. All the traders were selling ‘stuff’ ranging from honey to handbags. The only food was a stall selling enormous piles of bagel-shaped breads either by the bag, or mini ones threaded on a string, like a high carb necklace. I suspect there is a traditional aspect to this being the only food on offer, in a ‘bread-symbolising-the-body-of-Christ’ sort of way, but we had hoped for a sausage. We headed back to Davide and made do with a sandwich. There was an schedule of Polish folk music performances in the afternoon, but we decided to head off, thus avoiding a second noisy night, and going to our next stop a day earlier than planned.
We headed south to the city of Częstochowa (pronounced ‘Chen-sto-hova’). This was well placed as a stop, and as that stop was going to include a Saturday morning, it also just happened to be a city with a Parkrun. (My travelling companion is warming to the concept!) We were vaguely aware that there was a church here that was home to a very old painting of The Madonna which had a swarthy complexion, thus known as ‘The Black Madonna’. We knew that pilgrims came to see it. We knew that the carpark of the monastery had a designated area for campervans and that it was cheap to stay here. What we hadn’t realised was that up to 5 million people a year make the pilgrimage to come here to see the painting, thus we accidentally visited Poland’s most holy and popular of pilgrimage sites. The carpark was enormous giving some indication of just how busy it can get here, but on our arrival it was 2/3 empty and all was ordered and civilised. Two night’s camping here cost us the grand total of 20 zł, about £4 in a compulsory ‘donation’, and this included all services and power. A bargain! Every 10 minutes there was an incomprehensible public service announcement over a tannoy, informing the newly arrived of something important, I am sure.
The painting probably originally came from Jerusalem and is likely darkened due to the soot from candles and being hidden for many years. Legend has it that it was painted by St Luke, maybe even on a section of the table of the Last Supper. The painting is here because in 1382, when it was already an important icon, it was being transported to a safe location and en route spent the night in Częstochowa. The next morning the horses pulling its wagon refused to move and so the icon was put in the care of the Order of the Hermits of Saint Paul at their monastery here called the Mount of Light, or in Polish, Jasna Gora, where it remains. She has been damaged and repaired over the centuries, and still has some battle scars on her face.
We walked the short distance up to the monastery on the evening that we arrived on our way out for dinner (more pork and potatoes), and the area was pretty quiet. The next day, however, we had a glimpse of just how busy this place can be. The Madonna is housed in a side chapel of the main basillica and is available to see for much of the day, except for an hour or so in the middle of the day when the painting is covered, presumably so that the monastery staff can have a break. At 1.30pm she is uncovered again and then there is a service in the chapel, broadcast on screen to the ante-chapel and the basillica. This is a popular time for people to visit. There is absolutely no crowd management or organisation of the flow of people anywhere on the premises. It was mild, spiritual bedlam. We got caught up in this rush to find a spot for the 1.30pm unveilling ceremony and found ourselves wedged into a corner of the chapel in the hot crowd. With no view, no idea of what was being said, and no religious feelings on the matter, we extracted and opted to come back later.
We filled the next few hours with a stroll down the 2km long main avenue through the city which links the monastery to the old square. This had a delightful, tree-lined, pedestrianised, central thoroughfare which was clean and well maintained and very charming. We rewarded our kilometers walked with a ‘lody’, which is Polish for icecream. I think that lody comes a close second to Catholisism in Poland. There are stalls and sellers everywhere, and seemingly every third person walking down the street or sitting on a bench will be tucking into a cone. A tall serving of soft scoop is the preference. No flakes or sprinkles required.
Back at the monastery the crowds had eased imperceptibly and we managed to get a peak at the Lady herself. A visit to see her is obviously a major moment in the life of a devout Catholic and it was interesting to witness this depth of feeling and faith in the people around us. There were people of all ages making their pilgrimages but there was definitely a skew to the older age group. There are many that make their pilgrimage here on foot, but, to quote The Lonely Planet, Poland, ‘many, many more come by coach from Kraków’. Boy, did they come by coach. Coachload after coachload after coachload of late middle aged people. It was quite a sight.
In the morning we were all organised to muster early and drive the 15 minutes to the Parkrun location slightly north of us. Unfortunately it was raining quite heavily at ‘decision making time’ and the radar didn’t look very positive for any improvement by 9am. I am no bad-weather-running-hero, so reluctantly opted to stay in bed a bit longer. Shame! Then the rain stopped and the sun came out just as it was too late to get there on time. Rats! We headed off at about 9.30am and had one of the most surreal experiences of this trip so far. Just as we pulled out of our parking spot we were engulfed by the disgorged passengers of a coach, intent on their goal. Not one of them made eye contact with us or made any effort to wait or give us a wide berth. Once the crowd had cleared we headed for the only exit of the carpark, which was the same as the only entrance. By now there were already hundreds of coaches parked up, with thousands of preoccupied pilgrims making their way throught the carpark, none of them acknowledging any (attempting to be) moving vehicles or making any eye contact with us. There were nose-to-tail coaches pouring into the carpark and we were trying to get out. There were no designated pedestrian walkways and absolutely crowd or traffic management. It was ridiculous to the point of hilarious. We finally made it out without having injured a distracted pilgrim or lost a wing mirror to a coach and escaped the city via a stop for laundry and supermarket supplies.
Our onward journey took us on to Kraków. This southern city is Poland’s second largest by population and one of its oldest. Situated on the Vistula River it has been an academic, cultural, artistic and economic hub for Poland and was its capital until 1596. It is also reputed to be one of Europe’s most beautiful cities and its Old Town and Wawel Castle were one of the first sites granted UNESCO World Heritage Status in 1978. Our camp was about 3km from the Old Town, situated on an amazing cycle route that ran along the river directly to the city centre.
After the invasion of Poland by the Nazis in WW2 Kraków became the location for Germany’s General Government and the sizeable Jewish community was forced into a walled zone called the Kraków Ghetto, from which many were transfered to concentration and extermination camps like Auschwitz and Płazow. The city was, however, spared from major bombing and destruction.
In 1978, the same year that the city was granted its UNESCO World Heritage Status, the archbishop of Kraków, Karol Wojtyla, was elevated to the lofty status of Pope, and thus Pope John Paul ll became the first non -Italian Pope in 455 years. He is still very much revered in Poland and there are many statues and images of him throughout the country, and many things named after him, like Kraków’ airport.
Wawel Castle looms over the Old Town from its perch on the river bank, and built of brick, as is usual in these parts, has the air of a fortified stately home, rather than a defensive stronghold, which is perhaps why it was repeatedly sacked and vandalised by the Swedish and Prussian armies over the centuries. There are many stories and legends associated with the castle, but its enduring one involves a dragon. It is said that the fearsome beast lived in a cave on the site where the castle is now built, and terrorised the people of the city by demanding offerings of cattle to eat, or eating people if no cattle were provided. There are two stories as to how he was defeated. In one a cobbler called Krak suggested a sheep be stuffed with sulpher and left out for the dragon to devour. The sulphur ignited in its belly, causing it to gulp down gallons of water from the River Vistula and then it exploded. The city rejoiced, Krak married a princess, built the castle and the city was named in his honour. In the other story the dragon appeared during the reign of King Krach who sent his two sons, Lech and Krak Jr to defeat the beast. They also came up with the ‘sheep stuffed with sulphur’ solution, but had a fight amongst themselves as to whose brilliant idea it was. This ended up with Lechs killing Krach Jr, who on his victorious return lied to his father, saying Krach had been killed in the battle with the dragon. The King discovered the truth, however and exiled Lech renaming the city for his Krach Jr. The castle is built atop some limestone caves, which in medieval times were used as a tavern and brothel, but now are part of the tourist trail, complete with a bronze firebreathing dragon sculpture. We opted out of the castle visit, mainly as there are at least five seperate areas all with seperate entrance fees but also as there were large crowds. We just admired it from the outside instead.
Our city-tripping took in the magnificent central square, Rynek Glowny, which at 200m x 200m is Europe’s largest medieval square and The Cloth Hall which is plonked in the middle of it. This started as an open air market and was repeatedly upgraded until its current gothic form was built in 1555. St Mary’s Basillica is on the square and apparently has one of the most spectacular interiors in all of Poland, including a set of colourful wall paintings behind the main altar that were dubbed by Pablo Picasso to have been the eigth wonder of the world. No, we didn’t see those either. Too expensive, too many school children! On the hour a bugler plays a refrain from one of the towers of St Mary’s, stopping mid-bar. This signifies the moment the original bugler was shot with an arrow, apparently. We cruised on around the streets, taking in the old buildings, a few more churches and a tower or two. Where the original city wall once stool the land has been retained as a city park, the Planty. This hugs the majority of the Old Town in a horseshoe shape and is a fine place for a stroll, or would be if it wasn’t raining. We decided to call it a day mid afternoon and cycled home getting a bit wet, but with plans to revisit the city later in the day for dinner.
By 6pm the sun was shining again and we headed back to the Old Town. I know that I bang on about it, but I love to visit places where easy and safe cycling is given equal importance as pedestrian pathways and roading. The drivers were all so polite and patient and the cyclists stuck to the designated trails and observed the specific bicycle traffic signals. It makes getting around a pleasure, especially on our very fabulous little e-bikes. By the time we got back to Ryny Glowny the crowds were starting to sit down to drink and eat and the square was abuzz with outside dining, all the retaurants’ parasols being a uniform cream colour. We procured ourselves beer aperitifs in a sunny spot off the main square then went for dinner in a restaurant that had good reviews for its traditional Polish fayre. If you think that that might feature large quantities of various pork products, two types of potatoes, pancakes and a scattering of perogies, you’d be so very right. We could not resist ordering a ‘platter-for-two’, which of course could have fed four but that we very nearly finished between us (having only failed to eat the enormous pile of pickles and some pancake-type things). The waitress, obviously very accustomed to providing take out containers for the meaty leftovers was slightly astounded that we didn’t need one. The photos speak for themselves and we were far to full to even consider a digestif, so we slowly rode home in the fading light, the city looking glorious and us both feeling very happy.
The only tourist monument that we paid to go and visit in Kraków was the nearby Kościuszko Mound. This is quite literally a mound of earth, built atop a hillside looking down on the city. There is a spiral walking path winding up around it to the top where there are good views of the city. The steep drop-off is unguarded by a rail and people are protected from falling off it by….well, I guess by being careful and not being idiots.
It was constructed by the people of Kraków between 1820 and 1823 to celebrate and commemorate the life and contribution of one of their national heros, General Tadeusz Kościuszko (1746-1817). This man, with humble origins and of small physical stature, was a soldier and military engineer, studied art in France, was a general in both the Polish and American armies, fought in the American Revolutionary war where he also designed fortresses and met presidents, fought in the Polish-Prussian war of 1792 and was architect and Commander-in-Chief of the Uprising in Poland in 1794. He was a a rare beast of his time, not just for his bravery, but also for his committment to equality for all people, regardless of sex, race, class or faith. The mound was built by the people and contains soil brought from the battlefields of the Polish Uprising, and in 1926, on the 150th anniversary of the American War of Independance, it was supplemented by soil from American battlefields where he also fought. The base is now surrounded by a fortress, and numerous restorative efforts have been needed as the mound has suffered from instability after heavy rain. It is however, a fine and unusual monument to a seemingly splendid chap of which the co-located museum taught us all about. Bravo Tadeusz!
We had cycled slowly up the hill to the mound, even with the aid of electricity, and then had an easy freewheel all the way down, trying not to melt our brakes. We headed back into town and beyond the Old Town to nearby Kazimierez. Founded in 1335 this had long been an independant town with Christian and Jewish communities living side by side, but in 1494 King Jan Olbracht expelled Jewish people from within the city walls of Kraków, rapidly increasing their numbers in Kazimierez. They formed a large community in the northeast sector of the town, with the two communities separated by a wall. Over the coming centuries Jews facing persecution in other areas of Poland found safety in Kazimierez and the Jewish culture became the dominant influence on the city and making it the most important Jewish centre in Poland. As previously mentioned the Nazis managed to nearly annihilate the Jewish population here during the war with only a few thousand of the 65000 inhabitants surviving. The area became very rundown after the war but in recent years it has regained some of its Jewish character with kosher restaurants, cultural music and museums. Much of its renaissance was in no small part down to Steven Spielberg choosing it as a location for the filming of Schindler’s List in the early 1990s. Although it was not the setting of the real life events of the movie, Schindler’s factory and the Płazow extermination camp are no more than 6 km from here. It is now a charming area with original cobbled streets, many restaurants, street art, original buildings and not much traffic. We wandered, saw a small area of the Ghetto and found a cafe that served spectacular, freshly filled bagels for a late lunch before we headed home.
Kraków had been an utter delight, with our riverside camp and the cycle path contributing to our enjoyment. Our final night and morning were quite rainy, but nothing that earplugs to aid sleep, and a poncho to stay dry whilst getting ready to leave could not remedy. Onwards, with windscreen wipers.