View of Józef Piłsudski Bridge from the Vistula River.
Peep of St. Bernardine Church.
A look at Father Bernatek’s Bridge.
Glances of Smok Wawelski and Rynek Główny.
Glimpses of Evangelical-Augsburg Church of St. Martin and a horse-drawn carriage.
A peek at some of the yummies I consumed and inside Cat Café Kociarnia.
A pic of one of the reproduced works in the Banksy museum.
Parting shot of friends’ final night out.
About 7 miles southeast of Krakow is the UNESCO world heritage site, Wieliczka Salt Mine. The mine is over 700 years old. I took the train to get there but I thought the bus station was charming.
The mine has nine levels. Tourists only descend to the third. After walking down about 380 of the 800 stairs, some of the sculptures you encounter are of Copernicus and King Casimir III the Great.
This scene depicts a legend about Princess Kinga of Poland’s engagement.
At some point you reach the largest of the four chapels, which has an altar and chandeliers sculpted from salt. It can accommodate about 400 people for Sunday morning mass.
At 1,073 feet, the mine is deeper than the height of the Eiffel Tower.
Pure salt is translucent… think about salt lamps.
There are a few lakes in the mine. The guide said it would take about 7 weeks to explore the entire mine.
To provide some prespective of the sheer size, I took this picture looking up at the ceiling. Rock salt stopped being mined here in 1996 but evaporated salt is still produced from the brine.
Volunteering with Angloville brought me to the Polish Highlands.
The weather and the food have both been agreeable.
The neighbors have been cordial.
The shopping has been lacking
but a trip to Zakopane made up for that
and then some.
There has been entertainment.
There has been some scenery.
There have been laughs and good times.
I’ve arrived in Poland! And I’m confused… still in the EU but in a different time zone and using a different currency. Instead of the euro, I’m now carrying the złoty.
My stomach is not confused, it loves Polish food, and pierogi is the first menu item on the agenda. A bit of Polish cider is a perfect accompaniment. But which pierogi has what filling is a mystery.
The local church, St. Mary’s Basilica, has a trumpeter that plays a catchy melody from the tower every hour… all day and night long.
The cat and dog on the Riga signs are from the Latvian animated dialogue-free film, Flow, that came out last year.
For about $15 a meal, I’ve been trying different Latvian dishes from a cafeteria-style restaurant, Lido. This one had a traditional gray peas with speck side and a rye bread pudding for dessert. I’ve been enjoying the pear cider on tap that you pour yourself. The first time, I thought it was water, it was so clear. I haven’t loved all the food but the cider isn’t bad and I never leave hungry.
This was just so odd I had to include it. This skincare shop had this haystack hut sitting in the middle of the mall’s walkway. Something was definitely lost in translation but selfie-types don’t seem to mind crawling in it. The pic on the right is of the narrowest street in Riga. I included it to show the awful cobblestone all around Old Town that has not been appreciated by my feet. Selfie-types are challenged as they try to simultaneously touch opposite walls and take a photo.
A random mural and a random armadillo.
The House of the Black Heads and the Cat House.
Pelmeni (dumplings) and biezpiena plācenīši (cottage cheese pancakes) have been some of my favorites.
Ieva Rubeze’s ghost and Girts Burvis’ Salaspils stone head.
These Bremen Musicians are said to be peeping through the Iron Curtain.
St. Peter’s steeple in the background and one of the tourist boats that float about the canal.
Līvu Square and Powder Tower. I did go beyond Old Town but didn’t venture as far I thought I might. It’s been a relaxing visit and I feel recharged and ready for Poland.
I’ve swapped hot and sunny 100 degree Madrid for cool and cloudy 65 degree Riga. It has been refreshing.
Note that most everyone is wearing pants and a jacket. (The wreaths are for Jāņi or “Līgo”.)
I’ve also upgraded from a bed in a bunkroom to a full blown apartment. I don’t know if it’s the intermittent rain, luxury of having my own space, or exhaustion catching up with me but I’ve been curled up with a book watching ships float by between naps and it has been bliss.
Tomorrow, I will explore beyond Old Town…maybe.
Guernica, larger than life and just so Pablo Picasso.
I don’t plan to post every work of art I saw by Picasso, just a few favorites like Weeping Woman and Figure by the Sea.
The same for Salvador Dalí, just Figure at the Window and Face of the Great Masturbator.
It was Texas hot in Madrid so I resolved to head for cooler temps cutting my time in Madrid to nothing. I decided to wander about to view the majors but only enter one. The Reina Sofía was the obvious choice for me. Had I been indecisive, one glance at Brushstroke by American pop artist, Roy Lichtenstein, and I would have chosen the same. (The Royal Palace wasn’t even a contender.)
Between the Thyssen-Bornemisza Museum and Museo del Prado, I likely would have gone with the former but plans for tapas in La Latina with pals took priority.
I admired some murals along the way. The play on Matisse’s Dance with cats and fruit by Ever Siempre made me laugh. The stamp also got a giggle as it reminded me of my misadventures with Correos.
As they say, all good things must come to an end. I’ve had an amazing time in Spain and wanted to explore more but the first day of summer brought 100 degree weather so I’m out of here.
It has been a beautiful eight days.
The food was far too good.
The grounds were relaxing and enjoyable to explore.
The activities were interesting such as the ritual of La Queimada using homemade Arehucas rum and a Flamenco show.
Of course, what really mattered was the people. They were a delightful and fun group who made the long days feel rewarding and worthwhile.
Welcome to Plaza Mayor in La Alberca. This charming little village’s appearance is unique due to a bit of French influence. It was named Spain’s first National Historic Monument in 1940.
It also has a quirky custom of blessing and releasing a pig, Antón, into the village every June 13th. Until January 17th, it roams freely in the streets, fed by the local residents. This tradition has been around since the 16th century. If you don’t see Antón live, there is a granite sculpture behind the church. Hopeful couples will rub the statue’s reproductive parts for good luck.
While La Alberca may look postcard perfect, it does have a dark history. The symbol above the doorway is the sign of the Spanish Inquisition. The converted Jews in La Alberca proved their Christianity by fattening a pig to protect themselves. (Perhaps a potential reason behind Antón.)
Ages ago, burial spaces in the floor of the church were granted to parishioners who contributed money. The larger the donation, the closer to the altar. The remains of peasants were placed inside the ossuary found outside the church. Local women took turns ringing a bell every evening and praying for these less fortunate souls suffering in purgatory. This practice still takes place today.
Its customs may be rooted in grim practices but La Alberca is an endearing gem nestled in the province of Salamanca.
My initial view of the resort, Abadía de los Templarios, in La Alberca, where I’m volunteering with Pueblo Inglés for the week.
While the village is quite old, the hotel is clearly not.
It is a rather extensive property with trails, pools, and over 40 villas.
The villa I’m staying in has two floors. While the living room and kitchenette are shared, my roommate and I have separate bedrooms and bathrooms. I’m excited to be able to unpack for an entire week. If the food is as good as today, it will be a great (but potentially fattening) week.
Texas 