3 Things In The City I Love - Krakow, Poland

Well, picking just one city I love for this competition has been tough! I've been lucky enough to visit lots of fantastic cities but I decided to write about Krakow, Poland here because, well, I love it...

...and then I had to pick just 3 things. Man, these rules are tough! Still, I never say no to a challenge, so here we go...

Underground Bars
Walking around Krakow you'll pass lots of inconspicuous doorways. Slightly dubious looking, they don't really give any idea of where they lead, except for the odd small sign, or poster. Good job I don't need a bigger invitation than an arrow saying "pub" to walk down a darkened spiral stone staircase, because these places are brilliant! It's like walking into an underground world full of stone archways lit by candlelight, and plenty of delicious beer (and vodka shots, if you're feeling brave!) to sample. Trust me - try the Zywiec.

Me and my crew from Tutti Frutti Hostel go underground

So Much to See, So Little Time

Krakow really does have an amazing amount of things to experience and I did my best to pack them all in during the 4 days I had there. The main square is a must - and climb St Mary's Church tower if you can, for great views. I spent a long time exploring Wawel Castle - there's a lot to see there, from the Cathedral to the Bell Tower, and the Krakow Dragon's cave at the bottom. I also took trips to the nearby Wieliczca Salt Mine (pretty mind blowing - the artistic carvings, and the scale of the place) and Auschwittz-Birkenau concentration camp, which is truly harrowing - but I'm glad I went, and paid my respects at the Holocaust memorial in the Jewish Quarter later that day. I may try to sum up the experience in a blog at some point, but it's hard to put into words. Horrific.

View of the main square from above

Random Sights

I went to Krakow with a good idea of the sights I would see, and the places I would visit (see above - all fab). However, I had absolutely no idea that I would arrive - rucksack on my back - right in the middle of a sausage dog parade. Yes that's right - a parade of sausage dogs (and their smartly dressed owners) parading through the streets and onto a stage set up in the main square to be awarded various prizes. This parade was very well attended - the crowds were huge. I still have no idea what it was all about, but it was a great way to welcome me to the city!

I was also lucky enough to experience what I think was an art installation of hundreds of plastic weasels, interspersed with occasional golden weasels. Again - I have no clue, don't ask. Oh, and there was the paper mache torture museum too (which I mentioned in My ABCs of Travel under Q). Also random.

Weasels? Ohhh-kaaaaay...

So there you have my 3 things in the city I love. I do love Krakow - I was there in late 2009 and would love to go back soon - hopefully during the snow next time :) Have you been to Krakow? What did you think? Have I missed anything?

Raindrops, Tantrums and Happy Tears: My Wimbledon Queue Experience

I like impromptu getaways. I like camping. I like random ideas. I like my boyfriend. I like tennis. I like "the big occasions."

What could go wrong?

It happened like this. Dan got very excited halfway through Andy Murray's Wimbledon semi final match, when it started to look like he might win. "If he makes the final, we should camp in The Queue the night before, and watch the match from Henman Hill!" he declared. It seemed like a fun idea - it combined all the aforementioned "thing that I like" and I've never been one to miss the chance to be able to say "I was there..." about a big event. The first British Wimbledon finalist in over 70 years was one such event, and if he actually won it then well... that would be really exciting.


We packed up the camping equipment on Friday night, bought crucial supplies (crisps, cookies, beer) and as soon as I finished work on Saturday we jumped on the train to Wimbledon. It was a train of contrasts - us, in our hoodies and carrying a tent, sat next to girls dressed up to the nines on their way out for a big one, carrying clutch bags and tottering on huge heels.

We arrived at Wimbledon train station and jumped on the bus to the grounds (it was empty, everyone was very sensibly going the opposite way to us, as play had finished for the day) and headed to Car Park 10 - home of The Queue (so famous it has capital letters) and also home to us for the night. We were shown to our spot by a very efficient (translation: self important) queue marshal, and pitched the tent. It looked smaller than I remembered, and the air bed only just fit, but we brushed our worries aside and tucked into the pizza we'd had delivered to the gate (very grumpy delivery many, I think he actually hated me), drank the beers we'd bought and chatted to our neighbours. It did absolutely chuck it down with rain for about 20 minutes, but all in all I felt ok... I'm British, I can camp in the rain!

I haven't mentioned the most exciting part yet... I got interviewed by the BBC! Oh yes, I am now an actual television star and have appeared on BBC news at least twice (according to my friends Kath and Gary - I haven't actually seen the clip myself as it is proving elusive online) as well as in the background of numerous interviews with the annoying group of Irish lads a few places ahead of us in The Queue who were like journo catnip and got all the airtime (I'm not bitter, honest).

The next morning, after a damp, squashed night in what is surely the worlds smallest tent (2 man my a***) we admitted defeat and got up at 5.20am (yes, that's twenty past fie in the morning, disbelievers), purchased an extortionately priced bacon sarnie each and packed up the camping gear (translation: threw the stupid, minuscule, leaky tent in the bin in a fit of tantrum). By now, the day queuers had started to arrive, as had the television cameras, but despite my quite frankly fantastic Union Jack tights, I wasn't asked for another interview and had to settle for people watching as our fellow campers reveled themselves in all of their patriotic glory. Union Jack dresses, hats, brollies and flags were everywhere, as well as one lone Roger Federer fan, who'd camped for two nights to be right at the front and was decked head to toe in RF merchadise and carrying a personalised umbrella, covered in pictures of herself with Federer, and his wife. We named her "Roger Brolly" and used her as a handy focal point for how fast the queue was moving.

Basically, it was not moving fast. It didn't move at all between 8am and 10am in fact, and as the heavens opened and my feet throbbed, I had my first "what am I doing?!" moment. By this point however, we'd made good friends with our queue mates - Harry and Caz in front, and Chi and Cat behind - and the banter kept us all going as they opened the gates and we slowly but surely inched towards the front.

A tale of 2 queuers... Dan on a high, me in a strop.

By 10.45 we were in, and joined the crowd of people doing that weird jumpy "I'm not running, honest" fast walk to Henman Hill (I refuse to call it Murray Mound - it sounds rude, and anyway - it's Henman Hill!!) to find a good spot to set down our blankets and wait for the match to start.

It was a great party-like atmosphere - jovial, friendly and high spirited, and when the sun came out and started to dry our soaking clothes, it felt worth the hours spent soggy and tired, and the sore feet, cramped legs and terrible "tent hair" endured. When Murray won the first set, I dared to believe he could go all the way...

As the third set - and Federer's comeback - was underway, the heavens opened and brought me back down from my high. "Soaked through" doesn't do justice to the state of me, but nonetheless we stuck it out to the end and choked back tears as Murray gave his emotional post match interview (what stiff upper lip?!) and cheered with everyone else - a great match, 2 true sportsmen and a fantastic experience, despite it all.

So - I Was There. The Wimbledon Queue is a real unique experience that sums up British spirit and eccentrically perfectly. Despite the rain, I'm glad I went - the carnival environment and big occasion atmosphere made it all well worth it... and did I mention I got interviewed on BBC News?!*

I Was There!

*I haven't actually seen the clip :( If anyone has it to share, I would love you forever! It's basically me - glasses and a purple hat - talking about how we must be mad, and predicting Murray will lose. Ooops.

South Africa: Oudtshoorn... Cavernous Cango and Ostrich Extravaganza

Next stop on the Garden Route whistle-stop tour took my friends and I to Oudtshoorn, famous for two things – the Cango Caves, and ostriches. As it turned out, my friend Hannah is rather obsessed with ostriches, and – despite doing very little general South Africa research – had put the hours in and knew a huge amount about the various farms in the area, and what each one offered. She’d spent most of the trip up to that point excitedly telling us all about the fun that was waiting for us in Oudtshoorn so it was with great anticipation that we pulled into the car park of Highgate Ostrich Farm - the farm Hannah had painstakingly researched and decided was the best bet for all our ostrich based needs.

Unfortunately, we discovered that Highgate was closed to visitors as they’d recently suffered a terrible bout of bird flu, and most of their birds had died. Hannah was gutted (all that research for a closed farm!) and although we all laughed at the irony of it, the situation was actually really very sad – not only had all of the ostriches died, but the workers at the farm who relied upon it for jobs and income were now really struggling. We all put our hands in our pockets and bought souvenirs in the gift shop, in the hope it would help in some small way as the farm tries to get back on its feet.


Back into “Craig” (our rental car, and now part of the family) and we headed to farm number two – Cango Ostrich Farm, which had luckily escaped the bird flu outbreak, and welcomed us onto their tour. Our guide was an enthusiastic lady called Geraldine, who knew everything there is to know about ostriches, and told us gleefully that they could rip a human chest open with their toenail (note to self: don’t anger an ostrich) and that the ostriches are at their most tasty when they’re male and 1 year old, which is when they’re sent to slaughter. That explained the truck full of youngsters we’d seen being transported along the N1 highway earlier in the week, at least...

Safe trip, boys...

Following Geraldine’s talk, she showed us into the farm to introduce us to a midget ostrich (kept separate from the others, who would identify it as inferior and go for it with those legendary toenails) and her “good friend Betsy” who was happy to be petted, and gave some of the girls ostrich style “hugs.”

Hannah and Betsy enjoy a cuddle

We were also taken to the riding pen, where several guests were brave enough to ride some of the larger ostriches (not cruel at all we were told, and they do have a weight limit to protect the ostriches) and although my “try everything once” mindset saw me climb aboard one of them, I stopped short of actually going for a ride as it felt very unstable (I have NO balance) and I’d been made to remove my glasses and couldn’t see! No thanks. Jenny and Nichola did have a ride though, much to the amusement of the rest of us, as they squealed their way around the pen before being unceremoniously unseated by their birds. Before we left we were asked to help feed the ostriches - mostly by hand, but I was also treated to the chance of a “neck massage” by one beast (Geraldine’s eyes glinted when she said that) who pecked for all it was worth at a bucket Geraldine handed me before getting me to back up against the bird’s fence.

I’ll be honest, I’m not 100% sure how I feel about the ostrich farm tourist empire. It’s obviously a big income generator for the area, which can only be a good thing. However, I felt a little uneasy about the riding aspect of the trip, and the birds were obviously well used to the neck massage and hug tricks that were wheeled out, which made me question how fair it is of us humans to train up wild animals for our own entertainment. However, you could tell that Geraldine and her colleagues truly loved the birds at the farm, and I didn’t see any mistreatment. All in all, I’m glad I went, but it’s not an experience I’ll be repeating. I’m all ostriched out!


Our next stop was the Cango Caves, one of the natural wonders of South Africa. Jenny and I decided to sign up for the tour as we wanted to be sure to experience as much as we could while there, but the others – who had all been dragged round numerous cave based attractions by their parents growing up – decided to give it a miss and headed to the restaurant for an ostrich burger. We chose the standard tour rather than the adventure one, which involved squeezing through tiny holes, shimmying along narrow passages and navigating down slippery slopes designed for people with much better balance than I. The standard tour was still fantastic though, and the caves are a spectacular sight. My amateur photos don’t really do it justice...

We’d booked to stay that night at Amber Lagoon, a remote hostel somewhere between Oudtshoorn and Calitzdorp. We'd gone for the safari tent option, as that as an accommodation type we'd yet to try, and were excited to check out the facilities. Pulling up at Amber Lagoon we were greeted by Susan, the owner. She immediately insisted we grab a beer and head to the hill, to watch the sunset. It was a good move - the scenery from the hill was amazing, and watching the beautiful sunset with a cold beer was the best way to start the evening at Amber Lagoon.


Although remote (and initially a little “The Hills Have Eyes” unnerving!) Amber Lagoon was fantastic – there’s a bar, a swimming pool, perfectly fine bathroom facilities, and Susan and her staff cooked us the most amazing dinner of ostrich meat with veggies, pasta and lentils which we enjoyed in the outdoor seating area before retiring to our tents for the night. As the only person not to have shared a bed thus far in the trip, I got put in the middle of the 3 in a bed set up in one of the tents and spent a not so comfy night between Hannah and Jen. Love them as I do, sleeping on the mattress crack in such close proximity to their sleeping faces isn’t an experience I wish to repeat anytime soon!

Cosy.

In summary, Oudsthoorn was great. I think just the 1 night was enough, and it was definitely not too much of a squeeze to do the ostrich farm and Cango Caves in 1 day. We didn’t really explore the town itself, but I didn’t feel we missed out – the evening at Amber Lagoon was much more enjoyable than a night in a town centre hostel would have been, I think. I loved my time there, and waved it a fond farewell as we headed onwards to Mossel Bay (we would make it there eventually, no thanks to my dodgy navigating...)