Krakow, Poland
July 26, 2025
Krakow, I was told by every local I spoke with, is a jewel and the best in Poland. It is an absolute must-see; go, they urged. So here I am, wandering in the market square of the old town. At four hundred square meters, this market square is deemed the largest in Europe and vast, it certainly is.
The long building dominating the center used to be the Cloth Hall during the robust trade of 15th century. Next to it rises the Town Hall Tower, the shape recognizable by its similarity to all others in all the other towns of eastern Europe. In front of them is the elaborate Adam Mickiewicz monument. To the east at the edge of the old city walls is the Barbican Gateway built at the end of the 15th century. It leads into the old town via the fanciful St. Florian’s Gate. Built in the 13th century but embellished over the centuries, this is the only remaining gate of the eight that once studded the city walls.
I trudge around town, taking in the sights and taking photographs. Like elsewhere here too are grand baroque buildings, many recently given facelifts. And there are cobble-stoned streets. And churches at every corner. It does not seem particularly special but is certainly built on a grander scale.
I might be underwhelmed but judging by the crowds, I am in the minority. The Cloth Hall has morphed into souvenir shops where the crowds are three deep. An unending stream of visitors throngs the square late into the night and there are not just a couple, but an entire string of horse carriages that clop through the town. Those wishing for motorized transport opt for golf carts that trundle the streets of the entire town. The toy train has not made an appearance. Yet.
The Royal Route leads right through the old town to a small hill by the bank of the Vistula river and on this hill sits the Wawel Castle. Built largely in the 14th century, this had been the seat of Polish monarchs and the symbol of statehood until the capital was moved to Warsaw in 1596. The tall walls and defense towers look imposing from the outside and I brave the long queues to buy a ticket for the interior. The large courtyard and garden inside provides a grand view of the Cathedral tower, domes and steeples. It looks like a picture postcard.
Through a gateway is another empty courtyard leading to the Royal apartments. The queue is long and the tourists are funneled in in small groups. What treasures must there be, I wonder. The rooms lead off at odd angles and are mostly bare. I traipse across black and white mosaicked floors to see a few sketches and paintings adorning some of the walls. Some rooms are strangely small for a palace, some are larger but all are bare and our footsteps echo on the floor. Only in a couple of rooms are the ceilings lavishly baroque, reminiscent of the Red room I saw in Gdansk’s Town Hall but this is a much paler version of it.
It is the chimneys in the corners of some rooms that I find intriguing. Instead of the usual fireplace, these must have been used to heat the rooms. The tiles are detailed, lavishly designed and each is distinctly different. They remind me of the tilework I saw in Portugal and more recently in Angola. The art is similar though the colors here are different.
The empty rooms lead one from the other, like railroad carriages. A few intricately woven tapestries grace some walls and some fancifully carved wooden chests sit at doorways. An array of silverware and Chinese porcelain seem to be the main treasures housed here.
Most popular seems the room hung with some religious paintings dating from the 15th and 16th centuries. I dutifully take a look but lack the knowledge to appreciate it fully.
ITCHY FEET TRAVELS 