Exploring Gdansk Old Town

By Linda and Tim O’Keefe

Gdansk Old Town Full of Unusual Surprises

To continue exploring Gdansk Old T]own, we depart the High Gate, the entrance through which the Polish king passed when visiting Gdansk (pronounced “ɡə dænsk”).  From the High Gate it’s a short distance along the Royal Route to the arch of the Golden Gate, the entrance to Long Street . Constructed in 1512,  the Golden Gate is built of white stone and decorated with gold trim.  Eight statues atop the wall represent  traits varying from piety to wealth.  The Gdansk coat of arms appears just above the archway.

Inside the gate’s arch, we have a perfect view of Long Street (Dluga on the city map), Old Town’s historical heart offering a showcase of museums, architecture and some of the city’s best photo opportunities.  We make an unexpected tour from Long Street when Tim is attracted by several ornate spires on an avenue to our  left. The impressively ornate building is the Great Armoury built in the early 1600’s to hold the armor and weapons of the city guard.  Many armories of today may be featureless blocks of concrete but the Great Armoury reflects the 17th century Gdansk tradition that every building should be pleasing to the eye.  Made to blend in with its surroundings, the storehouse is designed in the shape of four attached brick apartment houses. Instead of armaments, the building now houses the Academy of Fine Arts

Town Hall and Poseidon Statue

Returning to Long Street, we’re soon standing beside the imposing town hall dating back to the 13th century.  A fire in the 1500’s created an opportunity to expand the town hall and to change  its architectural style to Dutch/Flemish mannerism.  The town hall is a grand building, five stories high and topped with a 272 foot-high tower.  No longer the seat of local government, the town hall is home to the Historical Museum of Gdansk. A  tour of the  building and its magnificent halls isn’t possible today. Not enough time.

Town Hall Old City, Gdansk, Poland Enormous Town Hall in the Old City

A short distance beyond the town hall where Long Street changes into Long Market Street we find the famous Neptune Fountain from 1633.  Now the symbol most identified with Gdansk, the Neptune Fountain was built to emphasize the city’s dependence on sea trade. Linda points out no one is throwing coins in the fountain.  Maybe that’s due to the legend that Neptune grew so angry when people threw golden coins in his fountain he slammed his trident into the water with such power the gold coins changed into small golden flakes.

Those flakes have been fluttering around a long time, said to still shine in the local vodka Goldwasser.  Every bottle of the vodka contains small thin flakes of 22 or 23 karat gold, based on the belief gold has medicinal benefits. Whether gold is good for you is uncertain but at least the vodka’s tiny flakes won’t hurt you.  Goldwasser purchased in Gdansk isn’t a great souvenir since it’s been made in West Germany for the past several decades.

The Green Gate and Motlawa River

At the end of Long Market Street we arrive at the Green Gate, a building intended as a residence for visiting royalty. A wasted effort since only a single visitor appears to have used it, a woman stopping here briefly on her way to marry King Ladislaus IV. The Green Gate—named for the color of stone used in its construction—is managed by the Polish National Museum and houses numerous exhibitions and galleries.

Motlawa River bridge with Gdansk Old Town in background, PolandBridge over Mohawk River with Old Town in Background

Passing under the Green Gate arch brings us to the banks of the Motlawa River which allowed  Old Town to become the center of Poland’s sea trade. Walking down Long Market Street we noticed something rising into the sky behind the Green Gate but we couldn’t  determine what it was.  Now,  across the Motlawa River,  it towers bright and shiny before us : a giant white Ferris wheel carrying very few riders. The modern contraption doesn’t really fit in with the Old Town scene. We linger on the bridge crossing the river to the Ferris wheel, viewing the boats on the Motlawa.  In 1687, a ferry service began carrying  passengers across the river and it still operates today. What a tradition, going back almost a century before the American Revolution.

The Old Town river bank is lined with stores and popular outdoor cafes.  Sticking out like a sore thumb is the mid-15th century medieval loading crane known as The Zuraw. The largest crane in Europe at the time, it could transfer loads up to 4400 pounds as well as install masts. The crane’s double towers make it the largest and most distinctive of Old Town’s waterfront gates.

Amazing! Not Your Typical European Churches 

We wind our way past the river bank stores to the behemoth crane to take an inside look at the immense wooden wheel used to power the machine. The wheel was turned not by water power but by men  literally walking  inside the wheel, a job that must have been back-breaking.

After inspecting the guts of the crane, we go partway back toward the bridge next to the Green Gate, turning right at narrow cobbled Mariacka Street. Stepping back into the Old Town, we wander the street known for its narrow three-story townhouses that feature individual front terraces, a rarity in Old Town.  Mariacka Street is our gateway for visiting gigantic St. Mary’s Basilica.  Constructed over an extended period from 1343 to 1502, the length of the church’s full name–the Basilica of St. Mary of the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary–rivals the building’s colossal scale.

One of Europe’s largest brick churches, St. Mary’s interior is immense,  supposedly able to hold 25,000 people comfortably. Overpowering in its dimensions, the ginormous building and its soaring ceiling makes us feel totally insignificant. Light fills the whitewashed interior through 37 huge windows, some seemingly as large as an apartment building.

                                            St. Mary’s hiugh altar and decorations

With so much bare wall space,  the church at first appears surprisingly empty.  We soon realize it is handsomely decorated with crystal vaults and, closer to ground,  numerous works of Medieval and Baroque art.  Among the items not to miss are the high altar, the stone Pieta from 1410 and the large astronomical clock by Hans During.  We’d like to climb the bell tower to enjoy its panoramic view of Gdansk but the price—400 steps–is too steep.  Not us, not today.

St. Mary’s was so overpowering it’s hard to imagine another church could interest us. But off to the right a few blocks away an old building catches our eye. Is it another church?  It’s strange the exterior  of such a large ancient building would be so darkly dreary,  very uncharacteristic for Gdansk. Whatever it is, the inside is likely a dump but why not take a quick look?

St. Nicholas Church a Highpoint of Our Cruise

Entering the unknown building through a small out-of-the-way door, we find a  small room where a woman mops the floor.  At first surprised to see us, she steps back with a little bow,  then points toward a small set of stairs  leading to another door.  This is odd. Is she sending us to some poorly lighted cellar?  Well, it’s still light out and this isn’t Transylvania. We head downstairs into who knows what.

At the most unexpected times the universe decides to bless you with something extraordinary.  Opening the downstairs door, we pause, stunned at what we see. An old building that outside appears so dull and depressing contains possibly the most beautiful  church either one of us has ever entered.  By blind luck, we have found St. Nicholas Church,  founded by Dominican monks in 1348.

St. Nicholas Church organ, Gdansk Old Town, Poland  St. Nicholas Church Organ with Ornate Decoration

Not only is St. Nicholas one of the city’s oldest churches, it is the only church to escape damage in central Gdansk during World War II. How it remained unscathed  is something of a miracle. Some say Russian bomber pilots refused to destroy the church because it was named after Russia’s own patron saint.  Or that they spared  St. Nicholas because the Russian Orthodox church had declared Tsar Nicholas II a saint after his assassination?  Or was it pure chance the bombs missed, while an estimated 90 percent of the city around it was destroyed?

St.  Nicholas Church survived the bombing–it’s all original

Regardless of what happened during the bombing runs, once Russian troops were on the ground, they did not loot or burn St. Nicholas.  Perhaps the church was left intact for the same reasons it wasn’t bombed.  Or it was due to quick action by the church priest  who reportedly bribed the soldiers with alcohol reserves from the church’s cellar to spare it.

 Somehow, the church and all of its 17th century contents survives untouched. Which means that for the first time in Gdansk, everything we see is original and not a reproduction. This is an amazing sight. The mostly Baroque and Rococo interior of white marble interspersed with dark marble and deeply polished pews somehow harmonize to give the church a solemn and impressive air.

Memorable decorations include a magnificent chandelier crafted in 1617, gold-framed paintings from the 15th to 18th centuries depicting the life of Christ,  a Byzantine icon of the Madonna and an elaborately carved multi-level  high altar. Linda feels she has stepped into a part of history that has been lost. She says the beauty here is overwhelming.

                                                     A private organ recital

Strangely, we are the only people present in the church. It’s been deathly quiet the entire time here. So we’re slightly spooked when the great organ behind us unexpectedly explodes into a loud hymn. Turning around, we look upwards at the 17th century organ encased in  Baroque and Rococo decorations. The hymn resonates throughout the building, humbling us.  How lucky are we to have wandered in here during organ practice?

As we leave, another couple wanders in, undoubtedly through the front door.  We depart through the same side door, never seeing the front of St. Nicholas church. It is a shock later to see the church’s bright red exterior in online photos. It’s such a remarkable contrast to our drab entrance we wonder for a moment if we’d really been inside St. Nicholas. Online pictures of the interior confirm we were. We still find it strange so little tourist information about St. Nicholas was available in Gdansk.

                                     Solidarity and Fall of the Soviet Eastern Bloc

Leaving Gdansk, our cab navigates the traffic with no difficulty, which allows us time for a quick stop at the famous Monument to the Fallen Shipyard Workers located  just outside the Gdansk shipyard gates.  The memorial of three tall steel crosses rise 42 meters above the square to commemorate the deaths of 42 shipyard workers killed during a 1970 strike.

Monument to the Fallen Shipyard Workers Gdansk Poland Monument to the Fallen Shipyard Workers, Gdansk 

The monument was erected in 1980 to satisfy demands of shipyard union leader Lech Walesa and his 17,000 member Solidarity Movement, the first non-communist union in Eastern Europe. The memorial was the first monument to victims of communist oppression ever erected in a communist country. It is credited as marking the beginning of the end of communist control in Eastern Europe. Of all the historic places in Gdansk, this is perhaps the most meaningful to Westerners.

Our driver returns us to the Oceania Marina with time to spare. It’s been a good day, though just a few more hours in Gdansk would have made it better. For us, Gdansk is the prettiest city we have seen so far. And, since it will rain at our remaining ports in both Germany and Denmark, Gdansk will be the shining reminder of our Oceania Marina Baltic cruise

Next: Why we will never sail on Oceania again.

Poland’s Sopot and Gdank a Hurried Day

by Linda and Tim O’Keefe

 

Sopot and Gdansk- A Hurried Day

Due to the Oceania Marina’s schedule, we have limited time in Poland. The ship docks at the port of Gdynia at 8 a.m. and will depart at 4 p.m.  That’s pushing it since we want to see Gdansk, a thousand years old and the largest city in northern Poland.  But it’s about a 45-minute drive from the port to Gdansk’s colorful Old City.

Among the first to leave the Oceania Marina, we search for a taxi.   As in Klaipeda, we’re bypassing guided tours to wander around on our own.  We like setting our own pace, spending time in a place that interests us and leaving quickly from those that don’t.  And we like the ability to return to a spot when the photo light is right.

Six taxis wait near the Marina. The drivers have a  set price of US$200 to take us to Gdansk, wait while we explore the town and then return us to the ship by 3:30, our all-aboard time.  We assure one driver we’re definitely interested but wait a few minutes to see if we can find two others to share the cost.  Before long, we find a couple agreeable to sharing the cab. The four of us strike a deal with the taxi driver and we’re off.

Unexpected Visit to Sopot

Our driver seems a nice fellow but he wants us to follow an itinerary he thinks is more rewarding than going straight to Gdansk.  Uh-oh, what have we gotten into?  The other couple doesn’t object so we say nothing.  We’re skeptical that our first stop, the seaside resort of Sopot, although our driver assures us Sopot is very popular with tourists. Tim and I look at each other: the Baltic Sea temperature today is 60 degrees, not exactly ideal beach conditions.  Hopefully this won’t be a waste of time.

The driver gives us 25 minutes for a quick look around Sopot. The natural thing for a Floridian to do is check out  the “popular” Polish beach.  We’re astonished to discover Sopot Beach is spectacular, one of the best beaches we’ve ever seen anywhere.  Its soft fine-grained silky sands put it near the top on our list. 

By comparison, the beautiful sands of Florida’s panhandle seem rough and drab.  No wonder almost two million people visit Sopot annually, whose sheltered waters are supposed to be warmer than those of other Baltic beaches.

Beach at Sopot Poland Baltic Sea                          Sopot Beach is a lot more impressive when you stand on it. 

                                              Europe’s longest wooden pier

Understandably, Sopot has been a favorite destination of Europe’s rich and famous for decades.  Walking along the beach, we come across the palatial-looking Sofitel Grand Hotel, perhaps the area’s most famous place to stay.  Built in 1927, the hotel has accommodated guests ranging from Adolf Hitler and Charles de Gaulle to Fidel Castro.  American leaders apparently have yet to discover Sopot.

From the Grand Hotel we walk quickly to Sopot’s pier, the longest wooden pier (1,676 feet or 511 meters) in Europe.  It is used not only by fisherman but as a ferry dock and a vantage point for watching windsurfing and sailing championships.

We’re running out of time so  we return to the taxi via Sopot’s main street, Bohaterow Monte Cassino Street, which is packed with pubs, coffee cafes, restaurants and galleries.  Unlike those at most beach towns, this street is well shaded but not by trees.  The tall buildings bordering it provide the shade as they also  hide any view of the beautiful beach.

Sopot Poland Monte Cassino Street with American KFC and Subway storesA taste of home on Sopot’s main promenade  

Side Tour to Oliwa Cathedral

Our driver’s next destination is Oliwa Cathedral, a mix of architectural styles including Romanesque, Gothic and Rococo dating from the 13th century.  Oliwa Cathedral also is Poland’s longest church.  This is another good choice by our driver, who quickly takes us inside the cathedral by a side door and urges us to sit in the last row.  It turns out we’re just in time for a  20-minute organ concert.

The organ, made up of more than 7,000 wooden pipes, has such a wide range of pitch and sounds it can mimic everything from animal noises  to human voices.  The elaborately crafted organ is also celebrated for its moving wooden cherubs and trumpet-playing angels.

Sitting in the last row is  perfect for viewing the moving figures.  The concert of hymns is stirring.  The last selection, The Hallelujah Chorus from Handel’s Messiah, gives Linda goose bumps.  Enjoy the impressive sound of the Oliwa organ concert here.

Gdansk Old Town, Finally! 

By the time we reach Gdansk it’s almost 11 a.m., much later than anticipated.  Fortunately our driver has a special parking place near Old Town’s main street.  The spot happens to be conveniently located across from the public facilities.  Linda is ready for a break and determined not to repeat the long toilet hunt at St. Petersburg’s Peterhof Park.

As at every other Baltic port city, we must pay to use the facilities.  An attendant is always ready to make change but the process still is a nuisance when you need different currency day after day.  The Euro is accepted in many places, although in St. Petersburg only Russian rubles were taken.  Dollars have no value in some places.  Polish banks in Gdansk won’t even convert them into Euros.

We need to be back at the cab by 2 p.m. in case heavy traffic delays our return to the Marina. Gdansk will have to be one of our fastest city tours ever.  We start our walk on the wide pedestrian street called the Long Market.  The architecture here looks like a time capsule from the medieval ages.

What appears old is new

Yet  almost everything that appears old is actually new.  World War II started on the outskirts of Gdansk after a German battleship fired on a Polish artillery unit.  By the end of the war, Gdansk was devastated from both German attacks and allied air strikes and Poland belonged to the  Russians.

Gdansk Poland Old City buildings architectureA restored section of Gdansk that reminds me of Aruba

Knowing how much the city suffered in the war makes its striking appearance today all the more amazing.   Walking toward the city’s High Gate, we notice how Old Town’s historic buildings and houses all shine with vivid colors ranging from dark green to dull red, from burnt orange to gleaming white and gold.  Reconstruction that  took decades didn’t leave an imperfection anywhere, making Gdansk more attractive  than most cities with an equally long history.  The Old Town literally is picture perfect, one reason it’s become a popular cruise destination.

We walk to the High Gate (or Upland Gate), a massive structure that’s the  only remaining part of the city’s medieval walls.  The gate served as the entrance to the Old City,  the beginning of the Royal Route where local officials greeted visiting royalty and escorted them into the city.  Linda wonders what it was like as a royal during the 16th century.  Tim suggests it might be better to consider the life of a peasant. (Why is it that every girl wants to be a princess?) Besides, he points out, we have more riches than they ever did; including deodorant.

Next: Exploring Gdansk Old City

 

Exploring Klaipeda Lithuania

By Linda and Tim O’Keefe

 

Klaipeda’s Clock Museum and Magical Statues

Exploring more of Klaipeda, Lithuania, takes us to the Dane River, which separates the Old Town from the more bustling commercial area of New Town. Crossing the Dane River by the Birzos Bridge, it’s impossible not to notice the mast and glowing white sails of “The Meridianas,” a tall sailing ship built in Finland in 1948.  For a time the ship was used by the Klaipeda Navigation School for training. Afterwards, “The Meridianas”  turned into a derelict vessel, left to rot at its anchorage. The ship was saved by a prominent lawyer who purchased it for the equivalent of $1. He restored  it and turned “The Meridianas” into a floating restaurant. The ship is now one of Klaipeda’s proudest landmarks.

Klaipeda Lithuania the tall ship "The Meridianas" on Dane River       The “Meridianas”  tall ship on the Dane River

Across Birzos Bridge is the new  “Arch, Monument to the United Lithuania,” a garden with a large granite formation marking the 80th anniversary of the Klaipeda Region joining with Lithuania.  Small red granite columns represent the country’s various regions. One stands apart from the others, representing the status of the Kaliningrad Region of Lithuania, now part of the Russian Federation.

A little more than a block from the bridge is Liepu Street,  the 17th century home of city merchants and aristocrats.  Many elaborate buildings remain in such architectural styles as neo-Gothic and Jugend, a 19th century art nouveau style also  popular in some other Baltic countries. Jugend buildings feature a curb roof, vegetable-type ornaments, gargoyles  and  other decorative details.

Discovering Time at Klaipeda’s Clock Museum

With map in hand, we turn right onto Liepu Street, looking for the Clock Museum, a little known place Linda read about in a guidebook. She is interested in the engineering behind how things work, such as our grandfather clock back home. Unfortunately our local tourist board map lacks building numbers, making this search more difficult than necessary.  With strip clubs sandwiched between stores and office buildings, Liepu Street may have changed a bit since the 1700’s.

We pass one of the city’s most stylish buildings, the Old City Post Office in a red-brick neo-Gothic palace from 1893.  It’s now known for the carillon of 48 chromatically tuned bells playing a 30- minute concert here every Sunday. It’s not Sunday and we continue looking for the Clock Museum. The map indicates it’s just beyond the post office.

We know we’ve gone too far when we reach Sculpture Park on the edge of a heavily forested area. The park has more than 116 sculptures, some located atop an old cemetery. We retrace Liepu Street but still no Clock Museum.  A local who speaks English explains the Clock Museum entrance is up a staircase and the museum sign is visible only across the street from it.  Not the easiest place to find and no effort to make it visible.  Makes you wonder if they care about visitors.

The museum is well worth the trouble. This fascinating and historical showcase of clocks shows the evolution of the essential but little considered necessity that manages our lives.  Examples of sun clocks, water clocks, fire clocks and sand clocks are on display. Multi-language information sheets at the entrance of each clock display room contain excellent explanations of their history and how they work. We have more respect for our grandfather clock and whoever came up with the idea of such an impressive precise time that works so well decade after decade.  Worth the visit alone is the  imaginative and brilliantly colored stained glass window near the tour end.  Leaving the museum, we take the Birzos Bridge back across the Dane River to the Old Town and toward the Oceania Marina.

Klaipeda Lithuania clothing store sign in English                               Klaipeda store appealing to cruise passengers

Klaipeda Old Town’s Magical  Cat and Mouse

We are determined to find two of Klaipeda’s more famous magical sculptures, a cat and a mouse supposedly able to grant anyone’s strongest wish. They’re among the better known Old Town magical sculptures which include the Old Town Chimney Sweep (he grants luck for a full year to anyone touching his coat button on New Year’s Day) and the Old Town’s Post, a column for residents to drop letters containing  wishes, useful suggestions or ideas which actually could be granted. These letters go to prominent local business leaders, the movers and shakers, who have the power to make dreams come true. You have to admire Klaipeda’s quirky attitude about wishful thinking.

Our map is worthless for finding any specific location. When we ask about the cat and mouse statues from a man passing on the street, he seems mystified we want to find them. He provides some general directions and off we go, feeling somewhat confused. If these statues are  so noteworthy, why can’t we find them?  And why did that fellow seem to think we’re crazy to be interested in them?

Following his directions, we turn the corner of the next street over where the Old Town Cat with a face of a gentleman should be. Sure enough, in the front yard of an apartment building on Blacksmith Street, struts the elusive magic cat. We both have to laugh, feeling a little foolish. The cat is smaller than our three-year-old grandson. It’s claimed that if you rub the cat’s magic tail, your wishes will come true. This cat’s upright bronze tail has been rubbed shiny.  After photographing the cat, and feeling every bit the dumb tourists, we start down the street seeking the magic mouse.

No, we don’t rub the cat’s tail. It seems some Klaipeda sculptors like to instill their creations with magical powers to attract attention to them, and legends about their statues’ powers spread over time. That publicity stunt has to include the cat and mouse.

The cat can’t be too far from the mouse; that would spoil the game. We stalk back down Blacksmith Street looking for the rodent. Two teenage girls walk the street in front of us, going in the same direction. Two men behind us have an adorable black dog. The taller man gives the dog a hand signal. It starts wagging its tail and barking, running up to the girls. They think this dog is the cutest thing they’ve ever seen! The guys talk to the women who, after a minute or two, continue down the street without the guys. Linda cannot help laughing out loud. She thinks this is one of the best pickup tricks she’s ever seen.

Klaipeda Tourists Are Peculiar Creatures 

One of the men, named Budrys, speaks English and overhears us discussing his dog. He laughs and walks over and we begin talking. He doesn’t understand why we bother to visit Klaipeda. “All, we do is walk here, walk there, then walk back. The same every day. There is nothing to do here!”

We confess we’re looking for the magic mouse. We’ve already found the cat. Budrys laughs uproariously, shaking his head, exclaiming, “Jesus Christ, you come all the way here from America to see a f***ing cat and mouse? Do you tell your friends you take a cruise to see this cat and mouse! They must think you’re crazy!”

Klaipeda Lithuania tourist whispers to statue of a mouse that grants wishesKlaipeda’s “magic mouse” draws tourists

Put that way, it’s hard to disagree. But this foolishness is a good icebreaker for starting a wide-ranging conversation about life in Klaipeda, politics, Putin, spies and drones. We sit with the two men on a low wall across from the magic mouse statue. The mouse may be all of 8 inches tall. An Oceania tour group arrives to see the mouse.  We watch how they react to the mouse.  It’s more fun to be spectators than unsuspecting tourists.

Legend has it if you whisper into the mouse’s ear, your wish will come true.  That echoes words inscribed on the collar on the bronze cat: “Convert your ideas into words–words will become magic.”  We laugh with Budrys and his friend as  tour members proceed to whisper wishes into the tiny mouse’s ear. Some women kiss it (not a requirement) perhaps for added good fortune.

We enjoy the company of Budrys and his Ukrainian friend but it’s late in the afternoon and we have early dinner reservations with others . We need to start back to the Oceania Marina.   Budrys accompanies us. When we reach the town square, he explains why the statue of Ann from Tharau disappeared during War II World. He says Hitler gave a speech from the steps of the Drama Theater.  But the statue faces away from the building and Hitler was so outraged at  speaking to the back of a sculpture he had it removed.

We turn down an invitation from Budrys to buy us a beer. It would be fun but we need to get back to the ship.  Klaipeda, however, is famous for is its beer, Svyturys, and Linda talks Tim into stopping at a pub near the ship. Besides enjoying  the quick taste of a new brew, it is another chance to see more of the locals while discussing our day in an interesting city we never knew was there.