Saturday, September 14, 2019

Taking time in Torun

To continue from my last post, we left the Polish town of  Elbląg on Saturday morning. The station was a good couple of kilometres from the centre of town, but in an unusual fit of courage, we decided to walk, so of course by the time we arrived, my rucksack had gained another 5 kilos.

The train journey from Elbląg to Torun was a long one. We first had to go south east to Olsztyn on a regional train and then transfer to an intercity train to Torun. Let me just say here the trains are really good, and if anything, the regional train was smarter, cleaner and more comfortable than the Intercity. I was impressed.

Altogether, the journey took three and a half hours, but we had more than an hour's break in Olsztyn which added to the overall time. We'd thought to have a look around this intermediate (and apparently fine) town, but after we'd stood in line to buy our train tickets to Torun, half an hour of our exploring time had disappeared, so we just popped over the road to the local McDonald's for a cup of coffee, as you do. Once back on the train which sped at Intercity speed through the countryside, the scenery became flatter and less picturesque than the area around Elbląg, but it was still fine in the golden light of an increasingly hot day. I noticed that there were few fences or hedges between the fields in this part of Poland, although there were some ditches for drainage. It made me wonder how farmers distinguish whose land is whose.

Torun station was outside the city centre and across the Vistula river. I was glad Koos had been there before as we had quite a trek across town to find our lodgings for the next two nights. Torun as a whole is large with spreading suburbs, and although our room was in an old riverside district, it took a bus and two trams for us to reach it.

The older suburb in Torun, where we stayed
When we finally arrived, it was around 5:30 p.m. and we were briefly perplexed by being unable to find the self catering apartment we'd booked into. The numbering system was a bit odd and so we found ourselves knocking on a door which opened to reveal an elderly man in his string vest. As you might imagine, this perplexed all three of us. 

Fortunately, the concierge of our apartment must have seen us wandering around looking lost and the next thing we knew we were being beckoned into the inner courtyard of the next door building. Well, when we followed her through, I thought we'd entered some kind of paradise. Unlike the rather forbidding street frontage, this inner sanctum was picture perfect as you can see from the photos below. I would never have believed such a charming garden and cottage could have been hidden within. I was instantly charmed, as was Koos.






We followed our hostess up the stairs and she showed us our room in the apartment. This we would have to ourselves, but we would have to share the two bathrooms with the occupants of the other four rooms (mostly young couples who regarded us oldies a bit curiously). There was also a kitchen where we could make our own meals. Everything was spotlessly clean, albeit on the small side. Koos and I had to pull our tummies in to pass each other in the corridor and even in the bedroom (don't think about that too much...haha).


I loved the neighbourhood around our accommodation. It was home to an eclectic mix of people and made distinctive by its older apartment blocks, trams and tree-lined streets. At the bottom of the road was a beautiful park with magnificent towering oaks, and on the other side of the park was the Vistula river with a harbour and shipyard that we explored on our first evening before even venturing into the city. We also found a handily placed Biedronka supermarket (the Polish equivalent to the ubiquitous Spar) around the corner where we bought provisions for cooking our meals.

Long view of the harbour and slipway

Harbour slipway

Entrance to the harbour from the Vistula
Harbour work boats

A fantasy barge behind the small work boat
The next morning, we walked to the city. It was quite a distance, but the day was fresh and it hadn't got too hot – not yet anyway. What we wanted to do was see the medieval town and then take a boat trip on the river. After that, well, we'd see. We had the whole of Sunday for Torun as we were only going to be leaving on Monday morning.

Walking towards the main square

I must admit I wasn't expecting it to be quite so beautiful. Perhaps the weather helped, but to me Torun is one of Poland's gems, if not its diamond. Elbląg was delightful, but effectively new; Torun was the real deal. I've been to Krakow, Katowice and Wroclaw. I've also been to Gliwice. Of all these, I think Torun was the most impressive (and even Gdansk didn't eclipse this feeling). It is believed to be one of the oldest cities in the country dating back to the 8th century and you can read its history here.

To give it context, I felt it had a similar setting to Krakow, sitting as it did on the banks of a wide river, but its city walls and gates looked somehow more impressive. On the other hand its charming tree-lined streets, and colourful buildings had an intimacy that Krakow lacked. Added to all this, it had the ruined remains of its old castle, which drew me like a magnet, not to mention its own version of the leaning tower of Pisa.

Renovated city wall

An old and renovated gateway

Leaning tower of Torun

City gate from the riverside


Remains of the castle. Guided tours into the dungeons are given!

Original city gate with adaptations

Remains of the former castle

Remains of the old castle

Section of old city wall

One of the several city gates
While we were there in all that glorious sunshine, the city streets were lovely too: colourful, bustling and elegant with cobbled roads and pavement cafés galore. There was even a planetarium dedicated to Copernicus (too lofty for the likes of us - sorry), a rather fine looking prison (fit for noble sinners) and Rolls Royces for carrying star struck tourists (especially those who'd been to the planetarium) around the city.





And then we had our boat trip on the wide, flowing waters of the Vistula River. It looked a bit shallow to me, so I was relieved the skipper had clearly done it once or twice. I had a feeling he had every sandbank and hazard embedded in his brain and could probably have done the whole course in his sleep; probably just as well, as he looked more than suspiciously relaxed at times.









We arrived back at the jetty around midday, so we still had the entire afternoon ahead of us. What to do when it was so hot? The temperature had risen to the mid thirties and with a high humidity level too, we weren't feeling inclined to walk much more. The solution? Tram rides. We each bought a 24 hour ticket, which meant we could go anywhere we liked and still be able to take public transport to the station the next day on the same ticket.

There were only three tram lines and that afternoon, we travelled the length and breadth of two of them. It was interesting to see how extensive the suburbs were, and also how new.  There were rows and rows of low rise apartment blocks in streets with no trees. They must have been very hot as there seemed to be no shade at all.

At the end of one line, we found the university, quietly slumbering in the afternoon heat with no students about except a young man trying to teach his girlfriend how to ride a scooter. At the other end of the same line, we got off at a pętla (loop), effectively the terminus, which was in the middle of a field. Remembering similar tram routes in the Katowice area, this seemed to me a quintessentially Polish spot.

By this time, we were all travelled out, so we took another tram back to our neighbourhood, where we sat on a cool terrace with an even cooler beer before going home for a meal. That evening, we took another walk through the local park in the dark. It was calm and exuded a benign kind of welcome until the first spots of rain drove us back to our lodgings.

To our surprise, we found the outer door of the apartment building closed, but never mind (we thought), we had the entry code. Well alarm set in when it didn't work. Perhaps we'd got it wrong? Several different permutations of the numbers plus several repeats of the one we thought it was still didn't produce any results. Panic. Well, I panicked; Koos didn't, mainly because he remembered he had the concierge's phone number on his phone. He called; she answered. Phew!

The next problem arose when she couldn't understand any English and had no idea what we were asking, but then someone had the bright idea of speaking German, which is definitely the go-to language in this area. What a relief that was. Koos is fluent in German, so in no time, the light had dawned and the issue was resolved. We'd missed a vital symbol at the front of the code and so the door had remained firmly shut. Putting my visions of a night under a cardboard box back in their place, we retired gratefully to our room. The next day, we would be off again for the last stage of our trip: to Gdynia and Gdansk via Bydgoszcz.

So, that was it. Congratulations for getting to the end of this interminable travel blog, allemaal!
Sorry it's so very long, but as you can see, there was a lot to get in. In a nutshell, Torun is gorgeous and so well worth a visit...there, I could have left it at that, couldn't I? 😀


Saturday, September 07, 2019

Planes, trains, boats and things: a trip through northern Poland – part 1

I'm later than ever this week, but that's because we've been away and travelling light, so I only had my tablet with me.

I don't know about you, but I am incapable of typing anything more than a few comments on a touch screen keyboard. Even then I make so many mistakes I spend more time correcting what I've written than writing it. But I digress as usual. What it's meant is that I haven't managed to write my usual blog (a.k.a waffle).

Still, I hope it's worth waiting for because we've had the most wonderful time. I wouldn't really call it a relaxing week. When you're tramping from train to bus to tram, and much of that time with a rucksack that seems to start out light but gets heavier with every step, the whole exercise can be quite tiring. But it's been oh so worth it in the richness of the experience. I'll divide the trip into three posts (or maybe four) as there's so much to tell and show, I couldn't possibly fit it into one. As it is, this will probably be too long (as usual, I hear you think).

Anyway, I've long wanted to go to the Elblag Canal. I saw a video of it a few years ago and decided that one day I would have to get there. The canal's five inclined planes are almost unique navigational devices and they are a monument to 19th century engineering. It was definitely at the top of my bucket list. Koos beat me to it earlier this year, but since he said he didn't mind doing it again, we made it our first stop on this trip.

After flying to Gdansk courtesy of Wizzair, we took the train to Elblag, a surprisingly long journey of around two hours from the airport (taking transfers and waiting times into account). I tend to forget Poland is such a large country and distances that look just a hop and a skip on the map can be much further in reality. Add to it that the train doesn't take a direct route, it seems even further. We arrived to what appeared to be the beginnings of a celebration and watched with interest as market stalls of the arts and crafts type were being set up in the attractive main streets. Elblag was severely damaged during the war and aftermath, but its old town has been beautifully recreated in the traditional style. We were lucky to be staying right in its centre.

It transpired we had arrived at the beginning of the Breads Festival, an event held to mark the end of the summer holidays. It was certainly a feast for the eyes with the locally produced honeys, cheeses and (of course) breads on display. Here are a few photos of the street market.






Most of those beautiful town houses are new, but here are a couple that are genuinely old: the original market place clock tower and the church, which is undergoing restoration.



The following day, Friday, dawned clear, sunny and hot. We'd booked a trip on the canal and were up early to walk the few hundred metres to the quay where the boats awaited us. It seems there are always two boats moored in Elblag and another two at the end of the stretch of canal with the five inclined planes we were due to ascend. It takes the whole morning to do the thirty-six odd kilometres, so as two boats leave Elblag, the other two do the return journey ready to turn round and do the reverse run in the afternoon. The video shows what it's like to descend one of the inclined planes; we would be ascending and I couldn't wait.

I was so excited I pestered Koos to make sure we were there early. In fact the two boats were scheduled to leave at 09:15 and 09:35. We were booked on the second one, so we watched as others boarded the first and took their leave. They wouldn't let us on the earlier boat even though I asked. "No," the skipper said firmly. "We have full." I smiled. It was nice of him to try and speak English. I couldn't have said that in Polish for sure.

Our boat was Marabut (like the video)

Passengers boarding

A prospective passenger checks the details

Maybe next time? Dogs aren't allowed, sadly
The trip itself was just magical. We wound our way along the very pretty canal until we reached lake Druzno. This is a magnificent nature reserve dedicated to the conservation of bird life and nature. The channel through the lake is carefully marked, a necessary guide as I'm sure it's too shallow in many places.

As we crossed it, there were carpets of lilies, walls of reeds and a profusion of bird life. With the sunlight sparkling on the water, it was a haven of peace and tranquillity. Once we were off the lake, though, the excitement began. We still had to follow a few kilometres of canal before we reached the first of the inclined planes, so the waiting added to the thrill when we saw the first one up ahead.

I've been down the huge 1700m slope of Ronquières in Belgium, but that is designed for commercial use and you trundle down (or up) hill in a huge bath on wheels, so you stay in the water. Here in Elblag, the boat manoeuvres into a cradle that sits under water. This is then pulled out and up onto the rails, so it's like travelling up hill above the ground. A huge slipway, in fact. Amazing. The size is quite restrictive (a maximum of 2m 80cm at the boat's base) and sadly neither of our barges would fit in the cradle, so joining a passenger boat is the only way for us to experience them.

I must say the first of the slopes on our trip was definitely the most nerve wracking as it felt quite unsteady, but it wasn't the steepest. Luckily by the time we reached that one (number 4), I was convinced it was all quite safe.

The scenery was gorgeous and we were so lucky with the weather, which was wall to wall sunshine the whole day. We watched out for the buildings housing the big water wheels that drove the pulleys by means of cables. Then the water used for the pulley mechanism flowed into ducts. It then flowed down hill to be fed into the level below, thereby conserving the canal depths. It was fascinating to see how it all worked.

I love mechanical constructions and this one really appealed to me. At first sight, it looked really simple, but it must have taken a great engineering mind to conceive of it in the first place (said to be Georg Steenke, apparently of Dutch extraction).

The whole trip from beginning to end took just under four and a half hours. We were then taken in buses back to Elblag, a ride of less than half an hour, which just tells you something about the pace of boat travel.

Apologies for those who have seen these on Facebook, but here are some of the photos I took:

View leaving Elblag
 
Entering lake Druzno

A wildlife paradise in Lake Druzno
One of the other trip boats on the return journey
coming down the plane
And on it goes

Pulley at the lower level

Quite a view from the top of the slope
Pulleys and cables driven by the water wheel (housing just visible on the left
At the end of the journey, our boat returning with a new load of passengers



The obelisk memorial to Georg Steenke
Apparently buried during the war, but resurrected and placed here in his honour
On arrival back in Elblag, it felt as if we'd been in a different world, and so we had. Being on the canals again was like being in a kind of parallel universe.

Elblag was in the throes of its festival and the focus was on food and sampling the different goodies on offer. We were surprised how late into the evening it continued and then how difficult it was to find somewhere to eat. The evening before, we'd eaten at the hotel, a luxury we couldn't really afford to repeat. On Friday evening, we battled to find even a snack, but we managed it eventually, in a side street café that was also very busy. Unlike our hotel meal, which was delicious, this wasn't anything to write home about, but we counted ourselves lucky under the circumstances.

We went to sleep that night with the sounds of the market packing up below us, but content in the knowledge we'd had a wonderful day and experienced something that was more than special in our boaty lives. The Elblag Canal isn't widely known outside Poland (unless you're into boats, that is), but it should be. It's a marvellous day out for everyone and the Poles take full advantage of it.

The next morning, we packed our bags and headed for the station. We were on our way again, this time to Torun, which I'll post about next time.

Have a great weekend allemaal!