Postcards From Krakow

15 days into October we left for Krakow. Driving to the aiport before the sun, a dawn-soaked plane ride across the Channel, a wait at the bus stop where we wrapped up in scarfs and duffle coats, and a train ride through fields of yellow rapeseed and corn. Upon arrival in Krakow, I felt instantly in love. It's beautiful mismatched buildings, horse drawn carriages, it's colourful past, the blankets you can snuggle up in as you have dinner in the square. I think I adore this city. 

We strolled through the square, eating pretzels on every corner, and got a walking history tour from students. Visiting the incredible salt mines and finding cosy little restaurants to hide away in. Watched the autumn leaves fall in the park and remembered a time when this city found it hard to be so beautiful. We took a cab with a German family to Auschwitz and I found myself getting annoyed as our guide kept mistaking 'Germans' for 'Nazis' as he took as around. It's one thing to study this period, as I have, and another to be standing in the places, in the streets, where it occurred. Part of me agrees with the sentiment of keeping it there, a constant reminder of mistakes humanity has made, and yet another wishes we could tear it down, rebuild, regrow and restart. 

Honestly, I'm not sure how I feel. Maybe I never will.

My days in Krakow are a little blurred, a consequence of squeezing  everything into the past few days as I could. If anything, I want to remember that I loved this place and I one day hope to return again. 


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