Auschwitz and leaving Krakow

Today we visited Auschwitz. I felt pretty sick throughout. That may be partially due to the 2 hour bus journey in what felt like a boat. I'll only say a few things about it, starting with the fact that I'm glad I went and that I found it extremely humbling.

This quote was on a wall:
“The one who doesn't remember history is bound to live through it again" - George Santayana

Pretty much justifies my visit. Hearing about the atrocities is bad enough, but being there gave a more visceral appreciation of the reality of what the Nazis committed and the extent of the suffering they caused. For me, the worst was the sight of thousands of murdered children's shoes piled high.

As a Christian I came away praying that such an evil act never happens again and was thankful that ultimately there will be justice, perfect godly justice one day where all sin will be accounted for.

The capacity for human evil is huge and the capacity for my own personal sin is huge. Praise God that Christ, by his death and resurrection, has paid for my sin and bought me new life. Through nothing on my part but faith alone.

I've almost finished John Stott's The Radical Disciple while traveling and found the reminding challenge of living a life that reflects the transforming work of in all areas of life to be particularly timely. Do I live as a Christian in regards to the environment, personal expenditure and wider social issues, or am I being a hypocrite? Do I proclaim the gospel while living like it hasn't made any effect on me at all? What responsibilities to prevent suffering do I have?

Moving on.

The remainder of our time in Krakow was pleasant. I tried more local food; sour rye soup, a sour cabbage soup and grilled cheese with honey and jam.

I was warned about the local's penchant for boiled rice with stewed strawberries and yogurt.  Weird to see.

There was a pretty tight jazz band playing in the market square that I'd neglected to mention from the night before. They played a translated version of King of Pain by The Police. Loved it.

Let's finish with Americans. We'd met a guy called JW from South Carolina. Nice chap.
Then there was Miles and Eric at the station. Also nice chaps who filled us in on the fact we'd actually been amongst a festival in the city and not noticed. Ah well.

Currently writing in Prague after a rough night on the train. No sleep and poor suspension made the fact that the carriage door was open while at full speed all the more terrifying during a trip to the toilet.

Time to soak in some more Prague. See you.

Interrail 1: "Maybe, Krakow?"

Stepping off the plane after a pleasant flight, Lewys and I arrived to a grey and bleak Krakow. I had expected blue skies and sun, the forecast predicting temperatures of 30 degrees. I must have read it wrong.

After figuring out tickets and boarding a bus from the airport to the centre (to the inevitable bemusement of the locals).
We wandered around for a bit after booking our night train to Prague tomorrow (no beds left, rage). Lewys had admitted he was slightly apprehensive at first, I was less so, but shared some misgivings. So far it looked like Manchester, only we couldn't understand the signs.

We knew we were staying in the Market Square and so followed the road signs. After turning a corner and seeing the tower of St Mary's Basilica I just grinned. It shone brighter than the McDonalds and KFC we had just walked past.

The square is beautiful, as you can see from the photo. 

Joe Simms, thank you.

Later we were accosted by a man in weird chef's uniform who proceeded to ply us with his wares and lured us into his restaurant. Dinner was delicious, service was lightning quick and the food ridiculously cheap. The whole meal came to about 70 zloty, around 14 pounds, including a pint of Okocim, yet another european lager (Hoppy, not too bubbly and sweetish. Served with a massive head, as is the case the further east you go).

The highlight was my starter - Steak Tartare. A beautiful portion of raw beef (or horse, i'm not sure) topped with a raw egg yolk and garnished with paprika, capers, onion and pickle. Delicious.

 I just hope I don't get food poisoning. 

That was followed by Goulash with Potato pancakes. I think I'm going to avoid anything with paprika in for the remainder of the trip, it's in flipping everything here.

The rest of the night was spent wandering the city. I especially love/hate the way every club promoter begins their art with "Maybe...", as in "Maybe you come Gold Club?" or 'Maybe Strip Club?"

I burst out laughing in one poor girl's face as their hesitant suggestions bounced off us harmlessly. I had half a mind to take a flyer and reply "maybe", but I wasn't sure I could keep a straight face. They've a lot to learn from the Cardiff lot.

A trumpeter plays from the tower of St Mary's every hour. His tune is broken off suddenly to commemorate a 13th century trumpeter who was shot in the throat while warning of an impending Mongol attack. History there for you.

To bed! Tomorrow, Auschwitz. 

Sammy