this lift is winding me up!
Sore froat this morning. Ah well. It’s a beautiful sunny day in Krakow. 5 of us arrived last night on the BA872 from LHR. Had a few drinks in the lounge and on the plane en route. Dropped Will off at the Sheraton and Rich, Anne Kay and I continued to the conference hotel, the Galaxy. Check in, 30 mins to get sorted and then downstairs to meet in the bar.
We had pondered whether to stop in the hotel to eat but the beer in the bar wasn’t up to much so we taxied to the main square (12Polish) and hit a German restaurant called Sukiennice, or simlar. Twas v good although we ordered far too much nosh. I had a chicken schnitzel. The killer was the meats and cheese we had ordered as a starter. We had to leave half of it or risk not having room for the main. Rich ordered a meatball that turned out the size of a tennis ball. Straight to bed when we got back to the hotel and a relatively early night.
Now relaxing in the lobby having had a pleasant enough continental breakfast. No sign of the Irvings.
The polish word for lift is winda. Sounds appropriate.
…
Lurvley walk around Krakow. Very nice city. Lots of old stuff to look at. We walked to the Royal Palace and did the tour of the Cathedral. Magnifico. Lots of kings buried there. The composer Fred Chopin also. Significant I thought that most of the people there harked back to the middle ages. Not much royal action after the mid 16th century.
I lit a candle (2 zlotys) and stood there looking at it. Anne asked me who i had done it in memory of but I hadn’t realised that’s what you did. I thought it was just quite soulful. The bell tower was definitely worth a visit and the only place I took pics and vids. They didn’t let you in the church itself and there were no uniformed guards up the top to stop you.
We strolled on and found Cafe Zakatek hidden down an alley. Gem of a place. I had a banana milk shake, Anne had a coffee and apple pie, Kay had an Irish coffee wand apple pie and Rich had a beer.
Then bumped into Andrew Owens from Teraco in the main square. Called Joe to ask him about the story of the trumpeter. Apparently during a war a few hundred years ago a trumpeter played from one of the windows of the cathedral in the corner of the square. He was killed before finishing the tune. Now every hour a trumpeter appears at one of the windows and plays half a tune. We didn’t hang around to see and walked back to the hotel.
Now relaxing in the room before going for a bit of a dip.
Tags: diary