Posts tagged Volcano

Previously on the adventures of Evan, I made my way to Poland where I treaded waist-deep into a national tragedy. But I had no idea that I would find myself mired in the middle of the most far-reaching, non-military transnational event in history. And, no, I don’t think that’s overselling it. I think that description is ripe and ready for sale.

I am, of course, referring to the vicious, week-long attack of the Icelandic Lava Monsters who decided to hold all of Europe hostage until a more suitable terms could be found for Iceland’s economic bailout from the IMF. Well played, Lava Monsters.

Icelandic Lava Monsters, like the one above, were very upset over the high interest rates being offered on the loan guarantees from the EU and IMF.

I was set to return from Krakow (via Munich) on Monday, April 19th. CNN-International was the only English-language news channel I had access to in my hotel room (all American travelers know CNN-International is the go-to source for rebroadcasts of Larry King Live, the latest futbol standings from the intra-Belgian leagues, and the newest UK parliamentary maneuvering). So, I knew things were going all volcano-loco in the world, but, I had no idea what the extent would be. I don’t know if anyone really did. CNN-International certainly didn’t. I was only able to confirm that my flight was canceled that morning. How the rest of my week would pan-out was still way up in the air, hanging out with the roving continent-wide ashcloud of death.

I am the first to acknowledge that my situation was not that bad. Especially when compared to the sad, frustrated tourists who were living in airport terminals with destinies held at the uncertain whims of the Earth’s geothermic forces and an understandably unprepared air travel bureaucracy. I was in a small, but comfy hotel room and had a company credit card to cushion my stay (and unlike reports from other ashcloud cities, there was no price-gouging in Poland. If anything the place was nearly devoid of tourist activity as anyone scheduled to come into the town was not able to make it). My only real concern was one of uncertainty (not to mention the added anxiety for Jess who gets anxious when I fly under the best of conditions). Apparently the last time this volcano farted magma all over the place, it was active for two years. I truly do like Krakow. I don’t two-years-of-my-life like it.

So, seeing that I wasn’t going anywhere for at least a few days, I took some time to go see another of Krakow’s main tourist attractions: The Wieliczka Salt Mines which were a short train ride away. These are some centuries-old, now abandoned salt mines, that are worth the visit. The main points of interest are the Tomb Raider-esque vistas deep underneath the earth’s surface. You can also find tons of statues and figures made completely out of salt throughout the mines (which are hard to photograph btw). Inside, there are whole cathedrals constructed from salt, depictions of The Last Supper—made from salt, a bevy of gnomes carved from pure salt, salt renderings of Polish royalty, and even a salt Nicholas Copernicus for some reason. One of the centuries-old salt churches had given way to the effects of time and humidity and had actually began to “melt.” So Jesus kind of looked like a crucified snowman at the beginning of Spring. It was a death metal album cover in waiting.

So, Monday turned to Tuesday, and Tuesday into Wednesday. The last of my coworkers had skipped town for business elsewhere in the continent. So I was stuck in Poland by myself (where English comprehension is sparce compared to other parts of Europe), and the invisible black ash death was showing little interest in abating. That is when the anxiety started. Granted, I reiterate, that I was in a far better situation than the suckers waiting it out on cots at various airports across Europe. I was in a hotel room, I had a company Amex, and—most importantly—I had my company’s travel agent calling the super secret phone numbers that only travel agents are given to plan my escape from volcano-occupied Europe. But, still, it was a situation with no real end in sight. And I was running out of clean socks. Also, I was just getting extremely bored. Like I said in my previous post, Krakow, you are a lovely town, but being in you by myself for over a week can get a little tedious.

Finally, I received word from the travel agent. A plan! I was to make my way to Vienna by train. A handful of countries with international airports had somehow been able to avoid the brunt of the ash cloud. One of them was Austria with the international air hub of Vienna, which had direct flights into New York. So, I had an end in sight set for my European adventure. I would make my way on a seven-hour overnight train ride to Vienna, where I would wait for a few days until I could make my escape on Sunday.

next: the accidental Austrian…

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part 1
part 3

I just returned from a two-week stint in Central Europe. Only the first week was scheduled. My additional week of unplanned European holiday came courtesy of a certain pseudo-Scandinavian country thousands of miles away from the continental heartland, which just doesn’t seem up to the task of keeping their geothermic or economic houses in order. What a björking mess. But I’ll get to that later.

Near the Krakow city square.

Two weeks ago, my job sent me over the Atlantic Ocean into a magical place where the food is bland, the US dollar is still strong, and American pop culture is only an ever-increasing whisper: Krakow, Poland. Krakow is, by far, my favorite part of Poland, and one of my favorite cities in Europe. It’s not on most Americans’ list of must-visit European locales. In my opinion, this adds to the appeal (BTW, Americans are truly loved over there. Cabbies get visibly excited when Americans get in their taxis. It’s not something I am used to—certainly not in Europe. The people there are also not used to tips. I would simply round-up to the nearest zloty and give them the change and they were amazingly thankful. Here, you can be a Rockefeller on the cheap.)

Krakow is officially smaller than Warsaw, the Polish capitol, however if you were to combine the population of Krakow and its surrounding metro area, it is the largest population center between Berlin and Moscow. (There is only one highway in Poland. It bypasses Warsaw completely and runs through Krakow, from Germany in the west into Ukraine in the east.) Krakow is also unique in that it was largely untouched by the destruction of Second World War. This stands in sharp contrast to Warsaw, which was completely obliterated, and then rebuilt in a soulless, utilitarian style under the guise of various Soviet-backed regimes. Krakow has been able to maintain the physical character of its pre-Nazi and pre-Communist roots, complete with centuries-old cathedrals, grave yards, royal palaces, and medieval cobble stone streets.

A cobble stone street in Kazmierz.

However, Krakow’s primary tourist draw is not the remnants of its centuries of history, but rather its proximity to the Nazi death camp, Auschwitz (you will recognize parts of the city from its cameo as the backdrop for Schindler’s List). Oddly, Auschwitz has transformed into such a draw for Krakow, that a strange tourist industry has risen around the city’s genocidal past. The city center is covered with “Jewish”-themed restaurants and antique stores complete with Jewry-themed knickknacks and art. And you can pay for walking tours of the city’s many abandoned synagogues or even Oscar Schindler’s factory. The entire region was once home to a vibrant Jewish community, which was all but displaced or destroyed. As a Jew from New York, it is hard to escape the surrealism of Judaism as tourist destination and it is somewhat off-putting to see the city making money celebrating the very Jewish heritage it was once such an integral cog in destroying.

Flea market memorabilia from Krakow’s more colorful past.

But that was a half-century ago. I’m willing to start anew with the Poles (and the Germans too, for that matter—despite how my parents may feel about the situation).

Today, the city’s old Jewish district, Kazimierz is a neo-bohemian enclave. It is a central European take on the Lower East Side, built on top of a centuries-old urban infrastructure. The neighborhood is littered with cafes, bars, restaurants, flea markets, street food, nightclubs, art galleries, hostels, hotels, and all the quirky little whatnots that keep a city young and alive. Many of the sides streets hide small basement bars, cafes, and lounges which add to the charm. The city square (Rynek Glowny), Wawel Castle, and the city’s ample collection of shopping districts are all places that deserve a visit. But, if you’re like me, and you want to see the a city’s present, in addition to its past, then Kazmierz is the only area of Krakow worth spending time in. And with the strength of the US dollar versus the Polish zloty, you can eat very well at the city’s many hip eateries (note to foodies: I know you will want to try genuine Polish food when in Poland. But take note, all Central European food is goddamn awful. It’s a bland mush of potatoes and meat. Krakow, like all modern European cities, is host to all sorts of fine Italian, Asian, and even Mexican dining. Eat there. I know that’s pretty provincial of me, but I need some kind of spice in my food so I know I’m eating something.)

Posters depicting the recently passed Polish President and his wife. Along with Polish flags adorned with a black ribbon, these were ubiquitous throughout the city.

Now, a week before I headed out to Europe, about half of the Polish government, including the President and his wife, were killed in a plane crash in Russia. We weren’t sure how this event would effect the exhibition we were sponsoring. Officially, the entire country was taking part a week of mourning—which meant a ban on all forms of public entertainment and music (only the third time in Polish history that week-long mourning period had been called for, and one of those was for the passing of national icon Pope John Paul whose likeness is found in statue and mural form all around the country). That Sunday there was meant to be an official state funeral for the President and his wife as they were placed in the crypt in Wawel castle (there was some controversy regarding if this somewhat popular President should be entombed in a place reserved for Polish royalty and saints. I caught one late-night demonstration of college-aged kids marching through Kazmierz with a chant of “What do want? [Polish gibberish], When do we want it? [Polish gibberish].” I assume that is what they were protesting.)

Polish mourners in the city square

As it turned out, our show did great—we actually had more visitors than the previous year, which was a shock to everyone. We ended up entangled in a historic tragic moment for the Poles, and yet, thankfully, business seemed to be continuing as normal. By the second day of our show, we knew we’d pull through. Plus, our show would be over and out of the way before the State funeral to be held that Sunday when millions of Poles would descend on Krakow in addition to dignitaries and heads of state from around the globe, including Obama. But, of course, Obama would not be joining me in Poland.

Late in that week, we started hearing news of a volcano starting to bubble up from beneath the frozen ice sheets of southern Iceland. The volcano had one of those incomprehensible Klingon names formed from the glutteral mishmash of syllables that Icelanders call a language. There were reports of airports across the UK closing down. It took a few days until I realized how the rest of my trip would be affected.

But I’ll get to that in the next post…

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part 2

part 3