BACK IN THE CZECHIA... ummm... R nevermind So it's back to familiar territory. Same streets, same internet cafe's, same hostels. This was fine with me for familiar faces and places always makes life easier. Of course, I still have the tasks of deciding where to go next (Bratislava, Zakopane, Warsaw, Budapest, Poznan, continuing to sit on my butt in Prague or some of the many choices), how to manage getting a haircut - well, a headshave, and shaving two kilos from my motional baggage by posting it back to Belgium. This will take a good amount of energy, motivation, and Czech - of course I prefer to squander all these resources (including Czech since every minute using English intensively means less focus on the Czech language) telling you a story about my return to the Czech Republic.

The Last Hours of Wroclaw

It seemed inevitable that I would run into the large group of architecture students from Aachen again. Just as I was ready to pass the night with bread and water (as any decent journeyman would be prepared to do), as I was crossing the bridge into Ostrav Tumski the Kenyan guy from Aachen urged me to join them and I was swept up in the euphoria of friendly introductions. One of the two professor's wives was from Brugge and I spent quite a long while speaking with the professor in Flemish much to the amusement of the students and the professor (and myself). So overwhelmed was I from the wave of collegiate (though German - thus not always anglophonic) camraderie that overlooking the fact that my pockets only contained a pitiful number of grosz was easy.

Dinner was at a cheery tavern-like place, whose name escapes me at the moment, that had plenty of atmosphere but the prices reflected the fact that it is a bar mleczny. Our group of ten took up one third of the sitting places, but despite all the German that the waitstaff had to practice I'm sure they appreciated the business. It looked like they were doing fairly well doling out pierogi and barszcz at reasonable prices though. Sorry, that totally sounded like a restaurant review... Later the Aachenites took me to what I understood with my rudimentary German as a working room, or arbeitsraum - actually the name is Polish but the Germans only knew the German translation. Believing it to be a place of work, I thought the evening was at an end and I would head towards the train station. It was actually a student's pub for architectural students in Wroclaw. It was only after some discussion on Kenyan politics and a few drinks that I started making my way towards the glowny dworac with tens of minutes to spare.

As I arrived at my reserved train compartment, a skinny fellow and two fat men were dancing around the small space to get situated. The skinny fellow decided to head for greener and emptier pastures. The more well-dressed of the two well-fed men was staying. They embraced and it was two. When I say well-dressed and fed, I hope that it smacks of the air of nomeklatura, but these subtleties are not always well understood. So there you are - now it's obvious. Strange he wasn't driving or flying though. During the ride and especially at the border crossing, he would wake up and make jokes and speak in English once in a while. His age, confidence and his proficiency in English meant probably he was somebody important but all I got out of him between his snoring was that he was from Prague.

Highlight of the Wroclaw-Prague train ride: I finally got a stamp on my passport.

Praha Hlavni Nadrazi - Familiar Territory

Strange feelings can greet you when you arrive in a place where you've been that is still foreign but familiar. As I walked out of the train and into the station, it felt the veteran traveller status (but not resident) returning. All the signs in Czech were easy to read and I knew exactly where everything was. First, however, I had to ditch my bag in the lockers. There were combination lockers across from the left luggage area. It cost only 10 crowns but I had to 1) first figure out how to use it [the combination is set from the inside] 2) trust that I would remember the combination that I set 3) have two 5 Kc pieces [which I did] and 4) assume that it would actually work. It did. I was relieved. But not until about noon.

After about 3 hours of wandering zombie-like around the city, I made my way to the Florenc station and met up with Jess. I dragged her away from two Irish guys she met on the Eurolines bus and dragged her down to the metro, around the city and eventually to Bohemia Bagel for breakfast - a place you should visit if you are ever in town by the way. As I've made my observations since Bohemia Bagel, I'll go ahead and tell you a word or two about Jessica Rancourt. American student in Leuven for one semester who had worked on the Voice. Tall. Still undergraduate age but not as naive as most of that age. Basically she is a girl who is fairly "together" and knows what she wants. One of the initial things observed was that I could be trusted - so there was the reciprocal understanding and perception of trust. Another was that she was admittedly born with a silver spoon in her mouth - but did not always have that silver spoon. Unlike others with that spoon, however, she has used it to learn quite a bit but will still always have her perspective limited by her nationality, color of her skin, and class (gender also goes without saying).

The trainride to Cesky Krumlov was quite long and was fraught with delays. Everytime we neared a train station, there was apparently not enough room to contain two passing trains and we stopped for quite some time to wait for the oncoming train. At one point, we had to descend from the train and take a bus to the next train. Locals did not seem to know what was going on as all of us on the train were herded from train to bus and back on the train again. It may have been that there is a break in the track somewhere - maybe for repairs. At another point we were stopped in the midst of some bushed for almost 30 minutes. With the engine, you could only hear the sound of bugs, someone's headphones turned up high, and sweat.

Come Visit Beautiful Cesky Krumlov - deposit wealth at door

Upon arrival at the Cesky Krumlov train station at the top of a hill, there were rather confusing and often contradictory signs as to how to walk down to the main part of the city. Being stubborn and stingy yet decisive, Jess and I ignored the buses and taxis and started the descent. We ran into several travellers along the way - namely Emre and Anders. I'll mention them again later. Entering the city, the medieval feel becomes more obvious. In fact, it feels more medieval than Prague or Brugge and not as overloaded with tourists. The Vltava river winds around the city centre making it both cool and centralized. The town got its start when it was taken control by the powerful (and wealthy) Rozmberk family. The trappings of wealth such as the architecture and city planning came from this era. After several hundred years, it passed hands and throughout the turbulent 17th and 18th centures, it was never razed but fell into poor backwater status. The construction of much of the city continued under a bunch of people from mountains (with the word -berg in their name) including that of the castle - the largest next to the one in Prague. One of these families was the Eggenberk family who coincidentally has a local beer named after them. In this century, wealth is being pumped into the town by tourists who enjoy the easily accessible outdoor stuff and the charming... hmmm there's that overused word again... town centre.

Actually despite the heading for this part of the blog, it is quite inexpensive considering how touristy it is. Our accomodations at Hostel Merlin were ideally located and cost 250 crowns. It was a cozy and quiet little (emphasis on little) hostel with a temperamental staff. Overall it was a good hostel but there seemed to be budgetary problems and a lot of corners cut judging from the low number of staff, obligatory non-functioning internet, broken (but functional) showerheads, and many other things. But the staff was friendly and the location was good. Once a more entrepreneur-minded management comes in and changes things it might improve - but they might raise the price as well.

At this point, Jess and I were babbling like idiots due to our lack of sleep but we were hungry and excited to be in Cesky Krumlov. After a shower and brief babbling with our fellow guests, we went to eat at Taj Mahal. Big mistake. Our craving for Indian food made us shell out more money than we needed to for food. The quality of the food was excellent but portions meager and unsubstantial - and we paid an exorbitant amount of money. We should have taken the hint when we saw nobody sitting in the restaurant.

Later, we took an exploratory promenade around the town and ran into the two Londoners we met on the way into the centre. After some moments of indecisiveness we followed them into a cafe to have a drink. Emre, is full-blooded Turkish but was raised in London and makes his money by surveying. Quite an amiable chap and as I found out later, also knows quite a bit about DJing. I was never 100% sure about the other fellow, Anders, name. In fact, that may not be his name at all. He is half-Swedish, half-English and was a little bit more reserved than Emre. Both were well-travelled and knew lots of Cockney rhyme slang. Later we would go rafting all together.

I slept well and hard that night. The next morning we spent a few moments in the rather busy tourist info centre being overcharged for the internet and getting a few maps. Later, there was some exploration of the castle grounds, the excellent and inexpensive view from the tower, and the gardens. Not much to report except that it was very peaceful when you could avoid the tourists. And even when you couldn't there weren't an overabundance of them.

After a heavy lunch of smazeny syr (fried cheese), fries and what they called chicken salad but seemed more like salad dressnig based soup with lettuce and chicken (tasty however), we went rafting. Again, not much to report except that it was terribly relaxing. The following things happened on our 3 hour ride. Immediately after pushing off, we found we forgot to buy drinks and ran soaking wet into a riverside bar after docking and emerged with 8 bottles of something. The water was mostly calm but we still managed to get wet. We also stopped for a moment to clamber up a hill to check out the plains on the other side. On the way down, I stupidly took a shortcut through a large patch of brambles and nettles. Quite a painful experience and I still have the scars to prove it.

Near the end of our trip, we ran into a large group of Czech students down from Prague for the weekend on a break from exams. They were in a flotilla of kayaks tied together and we joined the flotilla for some time. Alcohol was exchanged but not conversation. Much of it consisted of yelling out the names of football players and team names (not really by me however). It went something like this: "Ahoj!!" "Ahoj!!" "Manchester United!!" "Galatasaray!!" "Juventus!!" "Ronaldo!!" Of course I'm making most of it up since I know squat about football but you get the picture. At the end we were a little late but the driver who took us back to Cesky Krumlov from Zlata Koruna was still in good spirits.

The evening ended with dinner at Laibon, a vegetarian restaurant that has received heaps of good reviews. What I can tell you is this: Potato pancakes with tomatoes, mmm...... barbecued cheese.... more interesting than tasty... but tasty.... spinach turnover.. ehh... not so exciting. hot love..... one day. (actually mis-translated as warm love. not quite the same though). Later there were drinks on the Vltava river but it gets fuzzy after that.

The next morning we were off to Prague again to meet Jess' friend whom I found less than fun to be with at the Arena Hostel. Check my slamming of them in the Bugeurope website. Likewise check my raves about Hostel Elf where I eventually returned to the next day. Although the folks around Jess and Jade (two Aussies named Duncan and Blaise) were individually tolerable and every once in a while interesting, I decided I had enough of them as group and later found myself in the company of Israelis and Jews. Interesting folks. Nevertheless, it's now time to move on from Prague and this internet cafe and figure things out, do chores, the like.
  ¶ 6/19/2003 02:05:00 PM

  THE LONG MARCH - KRAKOW TO WROCLAW

I've decided to move onto Wroclaw on a semi-spur-of-the-moment decision. As there are plans (also rather spur of the moment) to meet up with fellow Americano Jessica Rancourt, I'll be returning to Prague very very soon. Within hours actually via overnight train sans sleeper. It will be fun and zombie-like tomorrow.

The train ride was actually noteworthy. Of course, there is plenty of discourse on Polski Koleje Panstwowe and Cesky Drahy but as in the discourse on what I've been putting in my stomac so far, it will have to wait. None of you have bothered me about it yet so no rush. As I was waiting for the train to pull up and contemplating whether or not it was a good idea to go to Wroclaw for just a day and a half, swarms and swarms of screaming schoolchildren raced past in both directions. As much as I love children, I headed to where the train was clear of the little darlings. I boarded the train and entered a compartment with four women, most of whom were reading. There was free space in between two of the women, so there I sat in between two women - which is a fine place to be indeed. Just as the train was starting to move, a middle-aged woman who emitted the presence of a schoolteacher appeared and started depositing children into the cabin.

That's when all the excitement began.

Between naps and browsing through the history part of the Lonely Planet (I was too lazy to pull my bag down and take out more substantial reading), the two young girls who were sitting in the cabin began to look at me, whisper to each other, and giggle. Of course, I wasn't about to start chatting in Polish but the next thing you know - they were trying to speak English with me. After two of the women left, other young students - mostly girls around 13 - started pouring in. So I spent the afternoon basically trying to talk to 6 kids (from a town called Nysa) simultaneously at the annoyance of the two remaining women and sleep. This was amidst much giggling.

The conversation in English went something like this. "How are you?" giggle giggle "Good" "What is your name?" "Cheong" "John?" "Cheong" scribble scribble "Oh" "Natalie" "Lukas" amidst some pointing "How old are you?" giggle giggle "27" "13" after much fumbling around with numbers by Lukas. This took about 45 minutes. The kids finally got off at Opole and everybody relaxed - I add no value judgement to the exchange with the kids, but it took rather great amounts of energy to have a rudimentary conversation with 13 year old Polish kids in English. Although I used some Polish, it did not interest me to fumble through the little Polish I now in front of giggly 13 year olds.

On the way, incidentally, we passed Katowice. It looked just as shitty as everybody told me it was. Luckily, I had multiple people inform me that it wasn't worth my time. Thanks Stacy, Anka, and that girl in Commerce I talked to when I was a little inebriated.

Finally I arrived in Wroclaw. It doesn't look at all like it's written in English, but don't worry about that right now. Just know that the "L" isn't actually an "L" but I don't know how to write it on this keyboard. I knew I had quite a walk ahead of me to the hostel which was on the northern part of the Lonely Planet map. The train station was on the southern part. So again I performed the dead-10-year-old-child march sometimes interspersed with the elbows-about-to-pop-while-i'm-carrying-this-bag-over-my-shoulder march. The hostel is actually located on an island in the middle of the river. I forget the name, but it is quite a quaint location if you don't mind bugs.

On the way to the hostel, I noted that the city was even more a mix of the old and the new and the ultranew. In Prague, Krakow, and even in many cities in Belgium, the city's architecture is a mixture between Medieval, Baroque, Classical, and others. As Wroclaw was severely bombed (70% of the buildings were levelled during the 82 day seige in 1945), there left much real estate to rebuild on. The communists probably didn't call it real estate though, but my English translation will have to do for now. There also was a significant amount of modern glass front shopping centers. So it was a clash of glass, concrete, and Austro-Hungarian architecture. What I observed from the people, at least near the train station was that there was lots of running. Makes sense at a train station though.

After being checked into the 10-bed dormitory by a rather frustrated attendant who kept mixing German with English (there are a lot of German tourists by the way), my next mission was to find my way back to the train station and reserve a seat on the overnight train to Prague, Hlavni Nadrazi if that means anything to you. One of the frustrating things I found was that the bilety automats don't generally work. They respond to requests for tickets by spitting out my money. I'm sure a real live attendant wouldn't do the same unless I asked nicely. All I wanted was a tramway ticket. This probably means I'm going to have to lug my bag the whole 30 minute trip again back to the station. Eventually I successfully purchased the ticket - which was much more than I expected. Since I didn't want to change zloty, my budget for the next 24 hours was something like 30 zloty, or 8 dollars or one full meal.

That evening while looking for a less than full meal that didn't require sitting by myself amongst the screaming hordes, I was able to explore much of the city near the rynek glowny or market square. Night life is impressive in Wroclaw. However, it is rather not geared towards tourists - especially those that don't speak Polish. Very little is available in terms of street food or take-away places. Most night-time restaurants involve sitting outside in the rynek glowny and paying exorbitant amounts of money for an insubstantial amount of food and drink. Luckily, a popular past time seemed to be sitting in the main square or the salt square, catty-corner to the main square (on this is located what seems to be a 24-hour flower market, guess there's a demand for it).

During the making of these observations I grew increasingly hungry. The gods smiled on me and once again a kebap shop saved my life. I dined greedily on a Felafel, salad and a beer. The plate was sparkling clean after I finished with it and I stumbled back to the dormitory.

The next morning I found that in the hostel was a group of architecture students from Aachen who were spending a weeks trip sketching different places in Wroclaw (Breslau to them). I spoke mainly to a student of Kenyan lineage who was not as early risers as the others. For him it made little sense to come to Wroclaw and rush through. One week wasn't enough according to him. Of course, there is plenty of architectural continuity in Poland through Germany. It is not only a quite old city that got it's (re)start after being sacked by the Mongols and thus went through many periods of developlment - mostly in the era after the Treaty of Westphalia, it also has belonged to many different empires. Whew, that was quite a long sentence. That was the German influence I guess.

I get the impression that there are many tourists but many of them are Polish or German. Not once did I hear anyone speak English other than when I was talking to myself. I even had an old lady say "Merci, monsieur" when I moved over on the bench to let her sit in the shade. Speaking of shades and sitting, the square is excellent - one of the best I've seen so far. I could have sat out there for hours - and I did since I couldn't afford to do anything else. I made my way around and watched the many fountains (some of which are actually just glorified garden hoses spraying water directly up and back onto the concrete) and people from different vantage points in the square. Also for some reason, the buildings in the main square are incredibly colorful. Each one is a different vivid color. Reminded me a little of Murano and Burano near Venice. So I enjoyed my breakfast apple and continued wandering around the central area of the city.

After some time, I grew hungry enough to spend a little more money and stumbled on a very empty bar. The decor was something that might have been hip in the 70s but nobody actually thought about things like lighting or friendly waitstaff. Anyway, I don't think "hip" existed in Poland in the 70s. The three old ladies inside seemed a little shocked, in fact panicked and confused, that a customer was coming in. I managed to order a plate of meat pierogis and tomato juice. Sated, I ordered a "black" coffee which ended up being porzana kawa (I know I'm spelling it wrong - I'll correct it later but remind me how it's spelled, somebody) which is basically Turkish coffee. Not quite illy but I probably couldn't afford that anyway. I spent the rest of the afternoon doing some sketching of an area near the bridge, walking around the island cathedral and botanical gardens area (though again they cost money so nothing to report), and resting under a tree on the north side of the river until I got shat on by a bird. Luckily, it was a small bird.

Well, as I haven't left Wroclaw yet it would seem strange to write about leaving it or write something more final. I have about four more hours until my night train. I'll just use the rest of my time (I think they round up to the half-hour) to tell you about this weird internet cafe I've been writing this blog from. Most internet cafes in Poland I've been to cost about 3 zloty per hour, pretty good even compared to the Czech Republic. This one is that price (and you should always look for this kind of price or better when in Poland). However, it comes with additional perks. Like mood lighting and mood music. So far I've heard things like Enya, cool jazz, and the like. Each table has it's own high powered lamp pointing straight down, which is nice for looking at your papers but on the whole, it looks like mood lighting. And often when no one is smoking, it smells a little perfumy. This morning when I was in here, I was the only person for some time. I was afraid the guy in his 50s who was attending the place - maybe the owner - was going to try to sex me up.

Hmmm... that is a rather odd way to end the blog. Ummm.... ok, well it will just have to be that 'til Czech Republic I guess.  ¶ 6/14/2003 06:56:00 PM

  A QUICK NOTE ABOUT SALT

Sometimes we make mistakes. Today, I had taken an excursion with the above(below?)-mentioned Spanish/Slovene folks in Krakow to the UNESCO reknowned Salt Mines of Wieliczka. Overall an uninteresting experience, the company aside. I'll be brief because I've been online for 2 1/2 hours now and although internet cafes are overall cheaper in Krakow than Olomouc or Prague, 1) I'm hungry, 2) it's still money, 3) I need to pee. That should be reason aplenty. Well, in brief (and sans history which I may include someday but fat chance), some king some time decided that he would have a bunch of stuff built in the salt mines out of salt. Makes sense, right? Sounds interesting, right?

Well, without the English-language guide, it was essentially a bunch of salt carvings. Not uncool but the tour lasted over 2 hours and it was overall very cold in the mines. Outside weather on earth had told me to not dress warmly. The novelty of being in a saltmine and looking at salt-carvings lasted about 25 minutes. I had licked the walls within the first 15 minutes. After that I realized it was still just a bunch of salt. Or from another perspective, still just a bunch of statues. Neither of which would hold my interest for more than two hours. Also, during those two hours, the majority of the time was spent in transit from one room to another.

I'm not saying don't go, but just go with good company and an English speaking guide (even though the ones provided are few and far between). That's all for now. I'm going to eat something.  ¶ 6/09/2003 10:27:00 PM

  UPWARDS AND ONWARDS TO POLAND

This blog is brought to you by one of the most readily available addictive drugs in the world, caffeine. Oh, how I've missed your sweet sting.

It took a good bit of motivation and me finally buying a train ticket from Olomouc to Krakow - thus locking me into leaving - in order to leave the very addictive town of Olomouc. Greg and Francie of course pretended that they wanted me to stay (just kidding, G & F) but on the day of departure, I had resolve and the will to carry myself and all my luggage across the Czech Polish border. Almost immediately I was swept up into a crowd of Spaniards and one Slovene over at Nathan's Villa Hostel. I'll tell you more about those folks and the hostel later. In the meantime, I decided to hitch a "motivation ride". Knowing full well that Auschwitz, Birkenau and the Salt Mines at Wieliczka, would require me building huge amounts of momentum and motivation, it seemed to make sense to go with a small group of good people. Thus without further ado....

OSWIECIEM - BRZEZINKA
On the hour-long ride to the town of Oswiecim and the Auschwitz-Birkenau Museum Complex, my companions began to express doubts about whether or not they actually wanted to go. Of course they would go, but it's difficult to look forward to a monument to the genocides of the Second World War. Especially poignant was, Ivana's (a Slovene dancer studying business and management) thoughts on it. She deals directly with the effects of mass-killings and genocide. Aside from being from Slovenia, her father was from Sarajevo and she knows plenty about Croatia as her father speaks it to her all the time. I'm really not doing justice in describing her but I blame it on the caffeine. For her genocide is not a distant memory that is relegated to WWII or the Jews in Europe as it is often portrayed as. That brings us to one thing that gnawed at me the entire day. That just as horrific things are still entirely plausible and possible in the present day.

Our self-guided tour started slowly. The reputed atmosphere of horror there was very much dampened by the rather pleasant and sunny weather. I had heard reports of attending the complex during much gloomier weather. Actively I tried not to think about how nice it would be to go under the tree and have a picnic.

The camp at Auschwitz consists of a little over two dozen barracks and a few outside buildings like the crematorium. The first barrack we visited was number 15, which was the Polish exhibit - at least a half dozen of the barracks are set up by sponsor countries. Naturally, the focus was, well Polish. As the international message of genocide during the Second World War focused very much on the Jewish experience, I have heard and read little about the Polish experience. The "host" country so to speak. For the umpteenth time in a few centuries, the country was simply wiped off the map in a barrage of German firepower and Soviet ambition. The people (including but not limited to the Jews) duly suffered. Many quotes by Nazi officials were included in the exhibits including on that claimed that Poland provided the much needed Lebensraum for the German people. For settlements in common day speak. I'll let you make the connection.

Much of the literature I have read on the complex and collection of exhibitions is that during the Communist era, the Polish struggle against the Nazi's is played up. I agree to an extent. However, relatively a new looking part of the exhibit includes Polish victims of Soviet aggression and puts a little bit more emphasis on Polish nationalism altogether rather than in a Socialist light. That having been said, I knew little about the Polish (and non-Jewish) experience and any information on it, Socialist or otherwise, would have been enlightening. Almost half the people who were processed in the concentration camps were not Jewish and many were Polish nationals. Major cities like Warsaw were desolated and decimated and Polish citizens were either sent to camps or "Germanified". There was never quite a good explanation for what the latter meant but I'll use my imagination.

Of course, it was still fairly horrific that Jews were singled out throughout all of Europe to be "cleansed" and sent to Polish (or the country then formerly known as..) concentration camps. But as I'm visiting Poland, that is by far not my sole focus... maybe until I tell you about the Jewish Quarter in Krakow....

On the opposite side of the entrance were a few barracks dedicated to portraying the situation in the camps including daily life and journey towards death... that sort of thing. Of course it is all well documented outside of Auschwitz. The more we continued on though, the more the claustrophobia of the whole exhibit started to get to me. At the end of that row, near the "death wall" where apparently many of the first victims of Auschwitz were shot (though it didn't smack of as much solemnity since it was mostly reconstructed), were a few of the cells reserved for prisoners particularly disliked by the Nazis. Some of those cells had no light whatsoever and little fresh air - as did the entire ground floor. Some of the cells were way too small to lie down in - they were called standing cells but it looked big enough to maybe squat in. It looked like I could try it out for size but I was being hurried on by my cohorts.

One of the few things that I felt that I should have been more horrified at but wasn't was the exhibit on the gassing of the prisoners and the subsequent cremation of their bodies. One room contained a large amount of human hair shaved off of people just before they were gassed. The hair was destined to be sold as thread to be woven into fabric for 50 pfennig per kilo. Also in other rooms were belongings like luggage, glasses, shoes (several rooms of this in fact for some reason), and artificial limbs - a surprisingly high number. Nearby was an explanation of how the crematoriums worked. Now one thing that was very much cleared up was that the crematoriums were not in fact the killers but just a way to get rid of the bodies. Thus, the Cyclon-Z was the killing part, the crematoriums were the cover-up part.

So getting on to the cover-up. In Birkenau, which is a short and cheap ride away, is where you understand the immensity of the killings and cover-ups. The immensity (width, breadth, and planned thoroughness) of the genocide is what makes it unique in history. As Jewish life had permeated all throughout Europe, it would take the effectiveness of industrialization combined with hatred and scapegoating (which are much more traditional). A lot though not quite enough of the evidence of the ethnic cleansing was destroyed at Birkenau. Out of a large number of the former buildings, the only thing left standing is the chimney. So the intended destruction of the evidence does point to the fact that the Nazi regime realized the world would not accept its actions. My main question concerns the idea of "evil" and human capability.

Going back to the things that were gnawing at the back of my head throughout the entire tour was the fact that the people who perpetrated the atrocities were human beings. And too often they are dismissed as just "evil people" and not tried to be understood as human beings like you and me... which in fact they were. What those people who are quick to blame "evil" avoid is that just about every nation that exists in the world today (and many many "nations" in the past) have blood on their hands. The question thus being, how close is patriotism, love for your country, and love for your "people" linked to hatred and scapegoating? This question does in fact lead back to the question of whether or not it could happen today. And just looking at the amount of hatred - not just across borders but within borders as well - that exists today, it is. To avoid this becoming a rant, I'll stop here and won't even include examples.

It troubles me more than Auschwitz was supposed to horrify me... which it didn't. But it certainly did make me reflect on the present.

Coming back to earth and to Poland and to my travels, the ride back was rather hellish. Taking the last bus back to Krakow was a bad idea for there were over twenty people too many on the bus. PKS, on of the branches of the currently privatizing (see my thesis) Polish transportation network, decided that 20 people was not enough to start a new bus even though dozens of buses were on standby with a few drivers. So all of my group and a Flemish girl I spoke to later stood in the bus for the full 90 minutes. During that time, I spoke mostly Spanish and some Flemish. By the end my head was spinning and I was ready for food. However, I'm going to leave that for another day. In fact, please hold me to the promise of making a blog detailing my meals so far in Prague, Olomouc, and Krakow.

In the meantime, I'll sign off and let you reflect as well. By the way, some of the historical information I got from here.


  ¶ 6/09/2003 10:17:00 PM

  TAKING CARE OF BUSINESS

After having spent quite some time in Olomouc, I have been able to peer into the world of hostelling and the tourist industry in both the Czech Republic and the rest of Europe. The insights have been given to me by staying in the 9 month-old Poet's Corner Hostel that is still working it's way to becoming one of the established hostels in the Czech Republic. And before I continue, here's my obligatory plug for any business that I consider to be delivering a quality product or service. The Poet's Corner is a 9-bed hostel located in Olomouc, one of the lesser-known jewels of the Czech Republic. I daresay that Olomouc is even more enjoyable than Prague. It's cleaner, overall friendlier, less-touristy (of course this means you may have to use some Czech there. Gasp!!), prettier, less crowded, and has plenty of history and character. Compared to Prague's Staremiesto area, it does feel like a real city and not like a tourist trap.

Poet's Corner hostel is run by Greg and Francie, both from Australia. Greg, Chris and Matthias gathered what cash they could and took the plunge into the Olomouc tourist industry. Most hostels that exist now are essentially worker or student dormitories converted into hostels. This is true of many places in Eastern Europe. Prague and Czesky Krumlov are some of the few exceptions where home grown backpacker friendly hostels have popped up very quickly. Prague's hostels now number in the 5 or 6 dozen. Probably more. What makes Poet's Corner stand out is that it is run and invested in primarily by backpackers. Thus, the help that they give other travellers is very often from recent experience and a genuine desire of Greg's and the other managers for their guests to enjoy their time in Olomouc and the Czech Republic.

On top of the helpfulness, Greg and Francie also make you feel as if you were staying at a friend's place. Their hospitality is outstanding and after all my travels, I have not seen their equal in terms of hospitality.

What makes it interesting is to see their daily travails and struggles throughout the difficulties of running a business. Especially the ones that appear when starting a business in a foreign country. One of these difficulties is generally the question of language. Greg's Czech is quite good though he is still trying to improve. However, in that most hostels in the country are run by Czech people, there are some difficulties as he is only one person. Most of the guests are English-speaking (and majority Australians I've found) so in terms of the guests, there is no problem.

Capital is also something that they worry about. Money comes in as long as there are guests, but as high-quality as the hostel is, often there are many many empty beds. The other day, I was the sole guest of the entire hostel. So revenue is very erratic. There are other days though when there are simply not enough beds to hold all the people who want to book. Groups of 30, for example, have to be turned away. So often the folks at Poet's Corner talk about relocating to a bigger location. And naturally, that runs into money.

As of now, they are renting an apartment. Not the building, just a single apartment with three bedrooms including their own. That means the maximum capacity of the hostel is nine people. Sometimes a few more but that requires some creative furniture usage. But usually it's the case that Greg is trying hard to fill up the beds. There is also the usual bureaucratic hurdles like getting a permit to build a sign for the hostel for example (this would have been helpful for me) or trying to get an official listing with the tourist information services.

The biggest issue of getting the hostel hopping with business is publicity. Few people have heard of Olomouc, much less Poet's Corner. The fate of the city and the hostel are very much tied. I myself had heard of the hostel and city for the first time through the Lonely Planet message board Thorntree. Also, they have been getting good publicity through websites like Bugeurope - check it out by the way. It is very well put together and is rather helpful when looking for a hostel. There are tons of hostel reviews.

Then there are the travel guides. Backpacker favorite Lonely Planet, however still do not list Poet's Corner in their guides and do not seem to be interested in doing so. Neither do Rough Guide. Greg has spoken with the people at Let's Go and they have expressed some interest in sending a writer their way. I have noticed that the two former travel guides are much more geared towards Bohemia focusing on Prague and is very lacking when it comes to Moravia. Let's Go's Moravia section tends to be better researched. My copy of Lonely Planet Eastern Europe doesn't even mention Olomouc - and considering the history and beauty here, it should. Oops, that was another plug. Sorry I didn't give you advanced warning.

So basically I do what I can to help them out. That is besides simply staying there. I follow their example of trying to make new guests feel as welcome as possible. That is to say the "backpacker attitude" meaning that all travellers are brothers and sisters - meaning that since we are all in this together, it makes sense to help each other even though you may not see them again in your life. (You'd be surprised though how easy it is to run into the same people though) Poet's Corner takes this to another level. Believing in people and believing that helping each other is something that few people learn these days. I tire of the modern belief of just looking out for yourself. I guess that's what makes my experience in Olomouc refreshing.

  ¶ 6/05/2003 12:20:00 PM

  HITCHHIKING THROUGH MORAVIA
The dandelion chronicles (one entry)

OK, I've only got less than one hour to write this and most likely much less hour of alertness. I'm already becoming fatigued after several beers, several kilometers, and well, I'll just tell you.

Francie, out of Francie and Greg of Poet's Corner fame in Olomouc (go there!), convinced me that going out to Sovinec Castle for the day would make an excellent daytrip. And at the same time I could accompany her while she did some "field research" for a business she was wanting to start. It involves dressing up and role-playing in a castle if you're into that sort of thing. If you are let me know and I'll hook you up right away. For the rest of you who are sane, read on...

We woke up early that morning and said goodbye to the last remaining guest in the hostel other than me. Then after a quick trip to Billa, the local supermarket, to get aluminum coins representing fractions of Czech Crowns that nobody will accept, we hurried off to the Autobus Nadrazi or bus station of Olomouc and ran at full speed first to the window shouting, "Stanice!? Stanice?!" waving the schedule. We made it on time to the bus huffing and puffing and having minutes to spare. Round one, Frannie and Cheong 1, daytrip 0.

After some breathtaking scenery of fields of yellow canola flowers and rolling hills, we reached what we thought was almost the correct stop. However, I looked in the dictionary and the town's name I realized was the word for "bus stop". We missed our stop and continued on for roughly another 10 km. A little too far for walking - or so we thought.

One of the girls who sprinted side by side with us assisted us in pointing us in the proper direction. She is one of the many Czech folks who were very helpful and sweet. They are greatly outnumbered however by people who did not lift a finger to help us. I'll try to let the former colour my view of the Czech people.

For the first time in my life, I hitchhiked. Luckily, having a woman with you does increase your chances of getting a ride. However, I have no control group so you'll have to trust me on this one. The scientific method will have to wait. The first driver was an older man with crutches in the backseat. Amiable fellow who spoke only a few words of English. We made about 4 km progress and he let us out on a patch of freshly lain tar. That fault we overlooked. The next driver(s) were two fellows in a pickup truck who seemed particulary affable. Turns out that his son was living in the US. He was so excited that he stopped the car mid-way just to point out the castle to us. We were ecstatic about being picked up, well I was after I stopped sitting on a particularly uncomfortable piece of metal in the back of the truck.

Finally.... we had arrived at the castle where there was interestingly enough, a Douwe Egberts coffee machine. I guess the people of Sodovice know their coffee. It was broken however. I might make a wise crack about that but I'm way too tired.

The obligatory tour started at 1pm and our tour guide naturally spoke almost no English but he gets an A+ for effort. Lots of the tour involved uncomfortable giggling by both our long-haired guide and Francie while we fumbled through English and Czech. But otherwise, your usual castle with glass art-work from Prague stuff. Well, it was cool. That's about as descriptive as I'll get about that. It hurts my head to think about it.

Then there came the incredible task of getting back to Olomouc. We were determined to take a hiking trail back - knowing full well that it would take a good 1 1/2 hours of hiking. No problem. We brought plenty of provisions and had eaten a good breakfast.

What we didn't anticipate was getting lost in the woods. You can bring out any cliche you want. We lived it. If a tree falls in the woods on Francie and Cheong, who cares? A rolling log gathers no hitchhikers. Getting in lost in the woods really sucks especially if being chased by chainsaw wielding murderers. All roads lead to Techanov - especially if you don't want it to.

Well, we found Techanov and realized we had walked 3 km out of the way which meant we had to walk 3 km back on top of the hike that remained ahead of us after 2 hours of traipsing through the woods. I won't bore you with the details but basically, after 6km we unsuccessully hitchiked all the way to the next town 8 km further south. There we had an orange pop and continued to hitchhike.

Hitchhiking is much like doing telephone sales. There will be loads of rejection before finding success. But when you find that success, it is glorious. Grins will spread from ear to ear regardless of whether or not you can speak to the driver. And if you can, all the better. I have much more sympathy towards hitchhikers these days. Several kilometers passed and we had romped through some farmland and a small residential village and again scanned fruitlessly the bus schedules. Finally, a young Czech couple stopped and the gods of the thumb smiled on us.

We got dropped off in Sternberk and trodded along to the other side of town to the train station. Many many people must have read the desparation on our faces that said, "I'm looking for the train station and I don't think I'm gonig to make it." In the end, we made it back and enjoyed comfort food in the form of a pizza, some beers, and a glaring computer screen in a dark room (for me at least - that's for you my good readers).

And so this entry goes to all the homies and homettes that helped me and Francie during this trying excursion. May the gods give you seven years of good sex.  ¶ 6/03/2003 11:39:00 PM