Krakow & Zakopane

Krakow

You do wonder how you're going to be taken in Europe as a Brit, what with Brexit and our consistently low scores in Eurovision. We've experienced the full range of attitudes while we've been away, from the delightfully hospitable to the miserably unengaging. We experienced that full range at a single campsite on the outskirts of Krakow.

We needed to fill the water tank but couldn't find the site's tap, so we thought we'd ask at reception. The friendly and helpful guy who'd welcomed us the evening before was gone. In his place was a miserable old dear who just could not be bothered. Turned out all she had to do was walk 10 feet from the desk, open the door to the entrance and point down the side of the building, but she made a point of moodily putting on her cardigan and muttering something in Polish before she did it. After opening the door and pointing, she turned away and closed the door without saying anything or looking at us. ''Sorry to put you out!'' - I couldn't resist the sarcasm. It was bizarre, as if she was utterly disgusted that we wanted to know where the water point was, or that we'd mentioned it at all. Did she have a sore history with it or something? Is it possible to have bad blood with a tap? Anyway, it turned out to be virtually impossible to get the van anywhere near it to fill the tank, so we decided to fill up at a later time and made our way into the heart of Krakow, still amazed at the old crone's attitude.

Krakow, especially the old town, is sublime. Horses and carts, supreme baroque and gothic architecture and some really great bars. The main square was all lit up for Christmas and the market was in full swing, offering a big selection of street food. Despite this, many people were eating pickles on bread. We'd noticed this odd phenomenon in Warsaw. Pickles on bread. Bread - with pickles on it. What the hell?

The market was heaving, so we decided to roam a bit to find somewhere quieter to eat. We ended up having the most garlicy meal ever to leave a chef's kitchen, at a restaurant tucked away off the main street. It was very nice at the time but our breath nearly melted the ceiling of the van later that night, lying on our backs in bed. Lying on our backs is the only decent way to get to sleep because the foam mattress is harder than a fucking Mike Tyson statue.

Mushroom pasta & jazz

There's so much history in Krakow, much of it dark. A cockney geezer gave us a guided tour of the old Jewish Ghetto and Schindler's factory in his little buggy. We also saw the pharmacy building which was a key location in the Ghetto (and an actual filming location in the film, Schindler's List). It was a really weird feeling travelling the streets and seeing the buildings where so many horrific things happened. The place can't help but feel haunted.

We had three amazing pastas in a great restaurant. That's right, three. I had two; Rach accidentally ordered a pasta with mushrooms in, and as anyone who knows her will know, mushrooms make her want to chuck herself through the nearest window, then get up and chuck herself through the next nearest.

The waiter kindly allowed her to order something different and even more kindly allowed me to eat her unwanted mushroom pasta for free. It was one of the finer examples of Polish service, and one of the greatest moments of my life. So there I was, sat there with two plates of pasta. Did I look like a ridiculous fat bin with arms? Yes. Did I care? Nahhhh, God bless ya.

We visited some great underground bars in Krakow, including an amazing jazz club on the last night called 'U Muniaka'. We had such a good time sat there drinking cocktails and watching some great musicians play.

Salt mines

We drove south and spent a couple of nights at a camper stop right outside the salt mines at Wieliczka, where we met a nice Kiwi family who were also staying there. Well, Rach met them. I was distracted by a pizza.

The salt mine was incredible. So salty (yes I did lick the walls). And I never knew how plush salt mines were - there were chapels, chambers and chandeliers all over the shop. A special mention has to go to the tour guide too. He was an absolute hoot. Dropping gags left, right and centre, dry and deadpan as you like.

Zakopane

Zakopane is a ski resort town right on the southern Polish border with Slovakia. We arrived there on the Thursday. It was great because after so much city-ness it was nice to be back among some serious natural beauty - snowy mountains, rolling hills, the smell of cow shit.

We nearly ran over a tiny dog after driving into someone's garden thinking it was the campsite next door. When we finally got to the right place, we had to convince them to let us stay as they were supposed to be closed for the winter. We've definitely had to up our persuasiveness on this trip.

That evening we ate at an eccentric local restaurant where an English translation of the menu was written out in biro in a notepad and they were playing what I can only describe as Polish folk trance. It was seriously mental. Still had a dance though. After, we made our way back to the van to stay up all night watching the General Election. Rach lasted until about 3. A good effort.

Friday 13th

Nothing spooky happened on this day, sadly. About ten young lads tried to help us find a local pizzeria, but that was about it. It was on the map, but it just wasn't there. Maybe it was a ghost pizzeria? I'm stretching.

Lamb in a jacket

On Saturday we explored the resort part of the town. It was such a pleasure. All snowy and skii-y. We'd never even heard of Zakopane so we really enjoyed discovering how great the place is. It's what this trip is all about I suppose. We had two monstrous dishes in a cosy little hut with a roaring fire. Unbelievable portions. I had 'shashlik of pork' with potatoes. Rach had a giant dollop of cheese. She does seem to like ordering mounds of cheese.

We got a cable car up to the top of a mountain overlooking the town and saw some really amazing views, but the best thing we saw has to be the bloke sat at the side of the street with a lamb tucked in his jacket. Unusual to say the least. In fact, there were a few unexpected animals knocking about. There was a depressed looking pony, stood dead still with it's head hanging. I'm not sure if it was actually depressed, or just miserably unengaging. We are Brits, after all.

Recommended park up for Krakow:

http://park4night.com/lieu/34442/