October 12, 2025, Frankfurt-am-Main- It was suggested by a fellow hosteler in Salzburg that I take dinner at Vetter’s, an authentic Bavarian establishment in Old Town Heidelberg. Apparently, a lot of Vetter’s fans were telling their friends the same thing. There was no room to be had there this evening. The reservation list stretched into next week.
I found another fabulous spot for dinner-Joe Molese Burgers and Sandwiches. More about Joe’s and its fabulous staff later. First off, though, some words about my stroll down the hill and around Old Town, in areas both full of my fellow travelers and others with only a few locals going about their affairs.
As I bid farewell to Schloss Heidelberg, it was the foliage that stood out.
Foliage at south end of Schlosse HeidelbergHeiliggeistkirche (Holy Spirit Church), Heidelberger Alstadt
I continued looking for a place called the Red Church, wandering through the alleys near Heidelberg University.
University DistrictRosenkirche, Heidelberg
I found the Red Church at the north end of Old Town.
Rosenkirche, HeidelbergHeidelberg University, with Peterskirche in backgroundPeterskirche, Old Town Heidelberg
As I rounded a corner, there was an apartment courtyard, where a man was playing table tennis with his young daughter. Nearby was this gem of a mural.
Modernist mural, Old Town Heidelberg
and this:
Cubist leopard, Old Town Heidelberg
The girl’s favourites were these:
Pokemon characters, Old Town HeidelbergPlay space, Old Town HeidelbergBored face, Old Town HeidelbergGuard tower, east end of Old HeidelbergRiver Neckar, from Old Town Heidelberg (above and below)Good luck Monkey, Old Bridge, Heidelberg
It’s said that to rub the gold orb will bring good fortune. many visitors were doing just that, before I took this photo.
Elector Karl-Theodor of Heidelberg
Karl-Theodor became Elector of the Palatinate in 1742 and united it with Bavaria in 1777, setting upon a program of economic modernization of this realm. He built the English garden in Munich and was an avid patron of the arts. In the long run, however, Karl-Theodor showed little interest in his realm, leaving it to Austrian and French invaders, in the 1790s. This statue shows that it was his earlier programs that matter most to posterity.
South Gate, Old Bridge, Heidelberg
Now, back to Joe Molese.
Joe Molese Burgers and Sandwiches, Old Town Heidelberg
This establishment provided the absolute best burger I have ever had-and that’s after a lot of hamburgers over 70 +years. It was not overly messy, such as I normally enjoy. It was simply flavourful and was not overshadowed by a mound of French fries. The lovely server and the effusive manager made everyone feels at home, despite the fact that the place was as packed as every other restaurant in Old Town, on Saturday night. When I went to pay, furthermore, it turned out that the young couple sitting to my right had already covered my tab! We had not spoken a word to one another, but there it was. I would go back to Joe Molese’s again, in a heartbeat.
Finally, this is the shop whose clerk helped me locate Lotte-The Backpackers Hostel. I bought a couple of items from her. It would be nice if more people patronized her little place.
My favourite souvenir shop, Old Town Heidelberg
It was not easy to say farewell to this enchanting place, but there was more joy waiting for me here in Frankfurt, and at the Baha’i House of Worship in Langenhain.
October 10, 2025, Munich- I went down the 327 steps this time, bidding farewell to the paradise called Monchsberg and its shining star, Stadtalm Naturfreund. I would gladly walk up the steps again and stay there for three or four days.
It was time to have at least a brief look at Munich and see how that city is adapting to the changes that surely would have shocked the reactionary forces who caused such mayhem there, nearly one hundred years ago.
First, though, here is a bit more of Salzburg’s centrum.
Ancient German god of natureInformation about Gherkins sculpture (seen below)Gherkins Sculpture, with Friedrich Schiller in the background. Schiller was one of Germany’s greatest Classical playwrights.
My breakfast companions had urged me to make mention of Sanktfranciskirche. It is the one church in Salzburg where anyone can find a safe haven, even if being pursued by police. It has not been put to the test recently, but there are many past examples of this.
Sankfranzikirche, Salzburg
Notice the open door below.
Salzburg Cathedral, my last stop before the Hauptbanhof and on to Munich.
The journey to the heart of Bavaria was uneventful. I had a bit of confusion, again because of WiFi loss, but finding The 4You Hostel was not hard, once I got bearings after stopping in a store for a couple of necessities. I even found a nice nearby hotel restaurant and enjoyed a good Bavarian dinner.
From what I have seen so far, Munich is every bit a multicultural and tolerant city-pretty much the opposite of what its leaders in the 1930s hoped to achieve. I will enjoy more of it tomorrow morning.
October 9. 2025, Salzburg- The world does not stop spinning for any one person’s agenda. That, and other people’s agendas, or lack thereof, can lead to quick changes in plans. I have had at least three hoped-for meetings with my fellow Baha’is come to naught, because of late trains and lack of WiFi.
Both situations are improving, but taking no chances, I headed back to Vienna for a few hours, this afternoon. There, after a false set of instructions from Google Maps, I was guided by a neighbourhood grandmother to the Baha’i Center of Austria. That she gave me instructions in German, and I got the gist of them, is progress.
At the Center, I was met by one of the staff, Sasha, and given a brief tour of the building. He also had positive news of our Faith in this country-which goes along with every other account I’ve heard on this trip, at least on phone conversations, if not in person.
The building itself was originally a haven for the Austrian Army, in the days before World War I. Theodore Roosevelt visited it, in 1910, after his Presidency had ended. He was given a royal welcome, almost as if his was a State Visit. With that level of honour in its energy field, the edifice is well-suited for a national Headquarters of the Baha’i Faith.
Baha’i National Center, ViennaGreat Room of the Baha’i National Center, ViennaGarden and play area for children, Baha’i National Center, ViennaSasha, a staff member at Baha’i National Center, Vienna. The poster celebrates 200 years since Baha’ullah’s birth.That anniversary took place in 2017.
Thus went my whirlwind visit to Vienna. I caught a train back to Salzburg, with little trouble. Before and after my visit, it was delightful to capture some of the essence of my host city. While descending 327 steps, I found these scenes:
A narrow passage on Monsbach, SalzburgGlimpse of Hohen Salzburg (Hapsburg fortress)Entrance gate, to Hohen SalzburgSalzburg CathedralOnce this was a moat, near Salzburg Cathedral
The above photos were taken on my way to the Salzburg Hauptbanhof. By the time I got back, it was dark, so I focused on climbing the 327 steps and found these night views of Salzburg, from Stadtalm Naturfreund’s patio.
View of Salzburg by night, from Stadtalm Naturfreund (above and below)
So, even with my self-imposed dash back and forth, Salzburg presented its essence in a fine way. I will have a bit more time to check out the public squares tomorrow, on my way to the Hauptbanhof, for a train to Munich.
October 8, 2025, Salzburg- “No taxi driver will go there”, the young driver said, referring to Monsbach, the area around Stadtalm Naturfreund, “it’s too dangerous”. Hmm, having not heard anything about crime in Salzburg, I decided to talk to the older gentleman in the next taxi, who had been listening. “It is a dark area, and the road is narrow. THAT is the only danger.” He then asked me how far I had come today. After hearing that my day had started in Zagreb, “Ibrahim” decided to drive me to the flat portion of the route to the hostel. He eliminated 323 steps-for the night. He was paid handsomely for his effort.
The day indeed started in Zagreb. I checked out of Mickey Mouse Apartment at the designated hour, and left the key in the black mailbox, as requested. When I got to the Train Station, my inquiry about getting to Salzburg was met with: “Go through Ljubljana. Maribor and Graz are out of the way. Ljubljana is more direct, then go through Villach!” This I did. The train was late leaving the Slovenian capital and even later going from the Austrian border to Vollach- a distance of 5 kilometers. Enough of a lag had been created that even the cleaning man at Villach Hauptbanhof (Central Train Station) shook his head at “the bureaucrats, always making an unnecessary mess for people.” Slovenia’s capital is a rather lovely place (it’s Lee-oob-lee-ahna), and I had a small lunch there, near the train station. I would grab another supper item in Salzburg, but it was a while later-eight hours later.
Near Catez, SloveniaSava River, outside Catez, SloveniaDinaric Alps, through a dirty windshield, north of Bled, SloveniaDinaric Alps, near Jesenice, Slovenia
As luck would have it, the picture postcard views of Ljubljana were not to be found around the Train Station and I did not dare venture far afield, in the uncertain time frame presented us. So, the dirty windshield of the train was my only vantage point for Slovenia’s beauty.
Once we could view Worthersee, hopes went up for a quick arrival in Villach. There was an unexplained stop, though, just inside Austria-and it was not due to the Border Police. Something else led to about seven of us sitting in Villach Hauptbanhof for an extra ninety minutes. The silver lining, though, was that the young conductor showed me, at long last, how to access the heretofore elusive QR Code on the Rail Planner application. Now, I will not be the sore thumb senior, the only one who doesn’t get it.
At the end of the day, I was at Stadtalm Naturfreund, had climbed only six steps-to my dorm room and savoured the chance to get another decent night’s sleep. Salzburg’s wonders and some business in Vienna awaited.
October 7, 2025, Zagreb- The bus conductor pretended to be livid, shouting in Serbian: “Five minutes means five minutes!”, as I came back from seven minutes in a supermarket queue. Some things are more essential than others, and as he well knew, no one cuts in front of a mother and two children, with a modest basket of groceries. No one does that, anywhere in the world.
The driver shrugged his shoulders and made up the two lost minutes, once we were back on the highway. We didn’t stop again until the Croatian border. There, with two buses ahead of us, we sat for ten minutes. Then, we go out, and were exited by the Bosnian border police, got back on the bus, waited until our time to re-enter Croatia, and got back off the bus. We retrieved our luggage from the storage bins and fell in line again.
A pleasant, business-like young woman stamped everyone’s passport, checked to see that the bins were empty then joined her two colleagues in the baggage inspection room. We were especially selected for the spot check, because there were a few people on board from countries which were being watched by Europol. The U. S. is not among those countries, but I have nothing to hide, regardless. The passport stamper checked my bags, educating herself about American dietary supplements in the process. I was glad to oblige. I would proudly claim that woman as a daughter, the way she dove into her tasks and joined her teammates without being told.
The rest of the way was quiet, the conductor, who was now the driver, maneuvered his way through Zagreb’s rush hour traffic-hardly Los Angeles or Berlin, but a slowdown nonetheless. The first driver got off the bus at a truck stop and the rest of us went to the now familiar West Zagreb Terminal. From there, I caught a tram to near the Mickey Mouse Apartment-a variation on Alora-Heart of Zagreb, except the apartment was on the fourth floor, instead of in the basement. It was of similar size to Alora, and was across the hall from Mini-Suite, which had Madame Mouse on the front door. This start-up apartment business seems to be unique to Zagreb, but it’s a nice idea, even if it wouldn’t work for all travelers.
The day had started a bit less organized. Sarajevo is a larger city than one might think, and there is a world of difference between the Old Town and the modern downtown, which looks pretty standard. No one near the Miljacka River bank knew where the bus station was, but a bartender (open at 8:30 a.m.) said it was too far to walk. I caught a tram, advised by a university student, and a woman who had just taken her kids to school, that it was eight stops ahead. A young woman from Germany joined me in the luggage pile section, and we power-walked together to the bus terminal, doing a 10-minute walk in 7. She sat and waited for her bus, and I caught mine outside, leaving my Bosnian Mark coins with a destitute young man who stood, forlorn, on the platform.
Here are some scenes of the day.
Sacred Heart Cathedral, downtown Sarajevo Miljacka River, SarajevoOutside Visoko, BosniaBosna Bucha River, north of Visoko Bosna Bucha River, near Zenica (Zeneesa). That town had the supermarket at the bus station.
Safely in Mickey Mouse Apartment, I bid all a good night. Tomorrow, it’s off to Salzburg, probably via Slovenia.
October 6, 2025, Sarajevo- The vivacious young lady engaged all her patrons, in a charming yet suitably guarded way. She made us all feel welcomed and appreciated, but remained a bit of a mysterious presence. Her father, nearby in the kitchen, was watching all. Sebilj is a bit of Turkiye in Old Sarajevo. True, there are lots of bits of Turkiye in this city, but Kemal and Harina (not their real names) pack the house, with local regulars, day and night because of their Turkish welcome and the quality of their food.
I was very blessed to enjoy comforting split pea soup-not something I had associated with Turkiye before tonight, but it was golden, especially after a jarring day at Srebrenica. The shish was also well-seasoned and tender.
There is lots of resilience across Sarajevo. This evening, I focused on a swath of the Old City, the area that embraced Islam, the story goes, because the Ottoman Turks had a policy of not taxing those who converted to Islam. That story came from a man who has not embraced any organized religion, so who knows? I thought better than to ask any of the fervent Muslims I encountered here, as to such matters.
Here are some of this evening’s scenes.
Evening at the Edge of Old TownMinarets light the night. Harina lights our hearts.The Central Circle of Old TownBascarsija Mosque. Here worshipers were still very active, at 9 p.m.
Some streets were bustling; some were quiet. All were safe.
Old Town streets (above and below)A quiet alleyContrasting spiresA Mosque courtyard. The Imam only said “no worshipers!”. The empty courtyard was okay to photograph.
Old Sarajevo is filled with beauty-and that includes the lilting voice of the lady of the house, at Guesthouse Yildiz, as she offers her prayers in morning and afternoon. That includes the rug merchants, the shoppers haggling with the vendors, the children squealing with delight at their taste of ” Authentic Turkish Ice Cream”, and it includes people like Harina, who love what they do. Old Sarajevo was the perfect salve for the heart that was broken by what was shared in Srebrenica.
October 6, 2025, Sarajevo- Once again, I found myself looking at piles of children’s shoes, mounds of abandoned luggage, faces of frightened families being herded onto to trucks-instead of train cars, with the same promise of “a better life”. I looked into hundreds of pairs of eyes, of men of various ages; indeed, some of the “men” were only 14 or 15. Every last one of the more than 8,000 male human beings killed in July, 1995, in and around Srebrenica, Bosnia& Hercegovina was “guilty” of only one thing-being a Muslim in what their captors conceived to be a pure, Christian, Serbian nation of Yugoslavia.
The Srebrenica Memorial Center sits in what is styled the Republic of Srpska (Serp-ska), its existence and its mission protected by the overarching government of Bosnia i Hercegovina, under the Dayton Accords, which ended the war in Bosnia, in 1996. The Bosnian Serbs make no pretense of liking the message the Museum offers, but they abide its presence. In that sense, it is no different from, say, the Civil Rights Museum in Montgomery, AL or the Sand Creek Massacre National Monument, in southern Colorado. Those who view things only one way cannot easily accept even established fact, when it disrupts their world view.
Three of us were taken to this Museum, by a man named Adis. He is a veteran of the Bosnian War for Independence. He is also an accomplished de-mining technician, and has helped remove mines in over two dozen countries, since 1998. Adis is a Bosnian Muslim. He told us of the background of the horrors that nearly tore his country apart, in the years 1992-96. He told us, as did staff members at the Museum, of the unreliability of United Nations Peacekeepers, held back by the envoy of the U.N. to Yugoslavia and by their own commanders. These men told us what was the result of overemphasis on preserving the status quo. The Big Picture fell on top of the people who only wanted to live their lives in peace.
Here are some of the scenes presented us at the Museum, in Srebrenica itself and at the Memorial Cemetery, down the street from this powerful institution.
Srebrenica Memorial Center, Polocari, Bosnia i HercegovinaRijad Fejzic’s story
Riki was 18 when he died, probably alongside his father and most likely not when engaged in combat. He had no training, no weapon, only his faith and love for his family. Riki’s story is a recurring presence in the 26 rooms, in which the story of this conflict unfolds in the Memorial Center. His remains were only identified after the war had ended. His father’s have never been found. Riki was beaten to death.
Presentation at Memorial Center, Polocari
This man’s father was a Bosnian Army soldier. He himself has been a presenter at the Memorial Center, for almost fifteen years. He is showing the course of the attacks on Srebrenica, which had been deemed a protected zone of the United Nations. Bosnian Serb forces, aided by the Serbian regulars, decided to ignore the UN’s presence in the area, and marched on the town, on July 11, 1995. The UN’s troops, a Dutch battalion, were under-equipped and outnumbered. It could have been different, but those in control of the situation simply had other priorities.
A relative few of the abandoned shoes left by fleeing children, in July, 2011.A mother’s sorrowTaking a page from Nazi Germany, the Bosnian Serb and Serbian commanders overruled even the misgivings of their own rank and file soldiers, many of whom had known the Bosnian Muslims as neighbours- for decades.Some of the 8,000 men and boys killed in July, 2011.Survivors gathered at the site of a mass grave, in 1996.The city of Srebrenica is a shell of its old self, but its young people still hold it close.The city from a former healing spa, high above. The spires are those of two mosques.Peace Monument in the central square of Srebrenica.An estimate of the total number of Bosnian men and boys killed in July, 1995. Posted at Memorial Cemetery.Row upon row of Muslim graves, all from that fateful day in July, 1995.
No one should condemn the Serbian people for what happened, any more than one could condemn the German nation for the Nazi reign of terror or the average Southern white male for the horrors of slavery and Jim Crow, or the majority of Hutu farmers for the slaughter of the Tutsi, in Rwanda. Adis put it clearly: “Most people just want to live their lives in peace and provide for their families. It’s as true of the Serbs around us as it is of we Bosniaks.”
The lesson of Srebrenica, of Auschwitz-Birkenau, of Rwanda, of Cambodia, of the oppression of Indigenous peoples the world over, is that the people of any given community cannot just leave the affairs of a community, state/province or nation to the ambitious and those with an agenda. Each of us has a say in what goes on around us. This is one of the keys to peace-It starts within and radiates outward, lest it die on its own vine.
October 4, 2025, Split, Croatia- Boris met me at the designated spot, which I found only by happenstance. This was another of those “We can’t help you because you have no Internet connection” catch-22s that Spectrum/Safari plays with abandon. (They are the ones denying Internet service, btw). I went to Pazar 1’s gate and waited just a bit-and there he was, telling me that I looked more like a Croatian local than he would have imagined. That felt good.
Pazar 1, Split
Our game plan was a full one: We walked through Pazar (the city market since Ottoman times, or longer.) The south and east areas of Diocletian’s Palace were next on the agenda. Diocletian was a native of this area, an Illyrian, born and raised in Salona, over the mountain, from what is now Split. He rose through the ranks of the Roman Army and became co-Emperor, at first along with Maximian in 286 AD/CE. This started the process of the Empire being divided into East and West. Diocletian built his palace at Spalatum, claiming the East for himself. Although he was an autocrat, Diocletian went along with Maximius’ plan to further divide the Empire, this time into four units, with Galerius and Constantius as junior co-Emperors. This arrangement actually helped the Romans defeat Persia, in 200, with the sacking of the Persian capital, Ctesiphon.
Diocletian carried out a bloody, but unsuccessful campaign to eradicate Christianity in the Empire. When the campaign failed, Diocletian retired from imperial duties, in 305. Co-Emperor Constantine, son of Constantius, recognized it as the official religion of the Roman Empire in 324. He lived out his days at this palace of Spalatum, now known as Split.
Pazar 1, east gate of Diocletian’s Palace and the Church of St,, Domnius
Domnius was sent, by the Apostle Paul to Dalmatia, the region that encompasses Croatia’s coast and the immediate interior, to preach the Gospel to the Illyrian people. Despite Diocletian’s imprisonment and execution of Domnius, in 304, Dalmatia became a steadfast Catholic region, under the encouragement of Constantine. Croatia is still a largely Roman Catholic country, as is neighbouring Slovenia.
Church of St. Domnius, SplitOriginal paving stones from the time of Diocletian
Here is a more complete view of the east and south areas of Diocletian’s Palace.
South courtyard of Diocletian’s Palace, Split
Diocletian’s Palace is the only place, outside ot Rome and Gizeh, that still has sphinxes (There are two here).
One of the two Sphinxes of Diocletian’s Palace, Split
We left this part of the palace, heading toward Marjan (marYAN) Hill. To get there, we had to pass through the “Street that can fit only one at a time”. Here I am, having gotten through it.
“The street that can fit only only at a time”.
The next photo shows the melange of architectural styles that can be found in Split’s oldest neighbourhood. These are Roman, Venetian,Ottoman, and Austrian.
Four styles of architecture, in one neighbourhoodThe place to be seen in the Split of the mid-Twentieth Century.A martyr for freedom from Fascism-and a Dalmatian
Vahida Magajlic was a Croatian Muslim, who fought the puppet regime that was installed by the Nazis in Croatia. She gave her life for the freedom of Croatia-and of all Yugoslavia.
We took many steps up Marjan Hill. (Mar YAN).View from first overlook, Marjan Hill
Boris enjoys coming up here, when he needs peace and quiet.
Boris at Marjan Hill’s Botanical GardenThe Adriatic, from atop Marjan Hill
Orofessor Humbert Girometta was the man who spearheaded both this park and the promotion of hiking and wilderness training in the Split area. He was a mentor of Boris’ mentor.
Memorial to Dr. Humbert Girometta, Marjan Hill, SplitThe Adriatic, from the third vantage point on Marjan Hill, SpliJewish Cemetery of Marjan Hill. Jews have been in Dalmatia since shortly after the destruction of the temple in Jerusalem, by the Romans.
We next had a delectable Croatian lunch, of beef in marinade, with a side of gnocchi and beet salad. Ice cream, dipped in chocolate, at Split’s oldest ice cream parlour, followed.
Next were the northern and western sides of Diocletian’s Palace
The exterior of the north side of Diocletian’s PalaceArchway, north side of Diocletian’s PalaceEntrance to North CourtyardAgain, three styles of architecture in one building.The grand north courtyard, Diocletian’s Palace
Here is the most astonishing view: The vestibule of Diocletian’s Palace, which once led to his living quarters.
Vestibule, Diocletian’s PalaceUnderneath the palace
We closed out this extraordinary day with a visit to Split’s Athletes’ Walk of Fame. Many of Croatia’s stellar athletes came from Split.
Toni Kukoc, “The Croatian Sensation” of NBA fameGoran Ivanesevic, a great tennis player
With a few more views of the Walk of fame, I bid farewell to my friend, Boris and headed back towards Hotel Pax, and a restful night, before the next leg of the journey: Bosnia and Hercegovina. Split will long shine in my heart.
September 30, 2025, Oswiecim, Poland– Today would have been Penny’s 71st birthday. Each year since I first met her, including the fourteen years since her passing, the day always brings a special event, either Baha’i teaching or a visit of significance.
Entrance to Auschwitz-Birkenau Museum
Today, I had the opportunity to visit the sites of one of the darkest chapters in human history. Auschwitz and Birkenau were concentration camps, separated by 3 kilometers, but under the same commander: The infamous Rudolf Hoss (not to be confused with Deputy Fuhrer Rudolf Hess), implemented the use of Zyklon B, a pesticide that became the nerve agent which alone killed a million people. Hoss was tried, convicted and executed in Poland, in 1947. (Rudolf Hess, as is well-known, flew to Scotland, believing he could convince Scottish “opponents” of the War to hasten British withdrawal from World War II. The Scots were not amused, Hess was imprisoned and then transferred to Germany’s Spandau Prison, in 1947. He was the sole remaining prisoner there, when he committed suicide, in 1987, at age 93.)
My late father-in-law was a Jewish-American, served as a soldier in the final months of World War II, during which he was captured during the tail-end of the Battle of the Bulge, and was held in the POW camp at Berga, in eastern Germany. I have been to Berga and seen the V-2 Rocket Factory’s remains. Pop was sent to work the salt mines. When he was rescued by a unit of American soldiers, in June, 1945, he was nearly skeletal.
That was the fate of many, if not most, of the survivors of Auschwitz and Birkenau, as well. They numbered about 6200, out of over 1,100,000 who had been held in at the Auschwitz Complex. Jews, who Hitler and his henchmen wanted above all to exterminate, were the preponderance of victims. Men between the ages of 17-60 were made to work, usually until they were broken, physically and mentally. They were then executed. Women, children, the elderly and the infirm, including the mentally ill, were summarily gassed to death.
Besides the Jews, Romany, Russians, Poles, Czechs, Freemasons and the occasional Afro-Germans, were also sent to concentration camps, and executed by poison gas. Auschwitz and Birkenau were the two largest facilities for such hideous practices. in time, even Christian critics of Hitler found themselves in the gas chambers. Birkenau, being the larger camp, had 30 gas chambers. Auschwitz, with four sectors, had ten. As the Soviet forces closed in on Auschwitz, the fleeing German Army forced most of the remaining prisoners west, on a Death March to Germany and Austria. Thus did many die on their feet, though not as many as were gassed.
Here are five scenes that are here to remind us that the Holocaust was no Hologram.
“Barracks” # 1, AuschwitzTorture House,, AuschwitzWomen and children victims, on their way to the gas chambers. (They had been told they were on their way to a glorious new life.)Discarded children’s shoes and a father’s suitcase, with his son’s name written on it.Hana Reiner would not let herself be forgotten. https://www.writeoutloud.net/public/blogentry.php?blogentryid=139212The Nazis themselves destroyed this barracks, rather than allow it to be preserved by the Soviets and Poles,for what it had been,
I thought back to the early morning, when I boarded a train in Krakow, bound for the city of Oswiecim, (the Polish name which was translated into German as Auschwitz). A mentally disabled man chose to sit across from me. He was an Italian, who had little vocabulary, in any language. He knew “English” and “Deutsch”, as well as a few words in Italian and Spanish. While he was annoying to the young man sitting by the window and the well-dressed Italian man who sat across the aisle, I let him show me the soccer games on his phone. At the end of the one-hour trip, he cheerfully said “Grazie!” and went on his way.
That gentle man would not have had a chance to ride the rails, in Hitler’s Germany. He’d have ended up in the pile of corpses found by the Russians, or in one of the piles of ashes that were dumped in the Vistula River or behind the Subcommandant’s House at Birkenau. He can ride the rails, as he pleases, in today’s Europe, not being harmed and harming no one,
Auschwitz-Birkenau, and all places like it, are needed reminders of exactly what levels of depravity can come from a deluded pursuit of false perfection.
September 29, 2025, Krakow- The guard was unequivocal: “No, this ticket is only for the tower. Cathedral is off limits.” I had read that Krakow, like Venice and Barcelona, was getting tired of the hordes of people streaming in and overwhelming the most popular sites. Here was very strong proof of the toll that being loved too much is taking on several places around the world, where each new face just wants one more selfie. Besides, the Cathedral is one of the world’s great religious art museums. I should have come here first.
I had already been in several historic sites in Krakow today, so not seeing Wawel Cathedral was not going to ruin my visit. The nearby castle had closed at 3, and the proprietors of Wawel complex are finding that the underground area is in need of a break from visitors. They put a cap on the number of people allowed down there, and had reached it, by the time I arrived.
I am determined, among other things, to be an ambassador for goodwill and to honour the work which people in the communities on my itinerary are doing, whether it is serving visitors or as part of the normal life of a community. The Wawel team is among those who have put up with a lot, especially in the travel explosion that has followed the 2020 Pandemic. I went with what the tired ticket clerk set for me-and indeed, there was nothing about going into the Cathedral. I walked around outside for several minutes, then left. It was getting towards evening, anyway.
The day started with my anticipated roommate finally showing up, at 7:20 a.m, after what sounded like an enervating train ride. I left him to get a good sleep, and had breakfast downstairs. The day outside began with a short walk from Meininger Hostel to Old Town Krakow. First stop was Corpus Christi Church, built on the orders of Polish King Kasimir III, in 1335. It is one of three impressive houses of worship in Old Town.
Corpus Christi Church, Kasimierz District of KrakowFront of Corpus Christi Church, Kasimierz District, Krakow
The interior is meticulously maintained. There were a few ladies inside, engaged in their devotions, so I was careful in choosing places to share here. Kasimir III loved to showcase gold, so the most striking scenes of Corpus Christi are accented in the metal.
Interior of Corpus Christi Church, Old Town KrakowNotice the light colours of the archways, contrasting with the darker wooden cabinets.More gold, at the altar (above and below)More of the golden altarMonastery at Corpus Christi Church, Old Town Krakow. This was occupied by the Canons Regular of the Lateran, who King Kasimier had brought in from the older town of Klodzko.
I needed a little coffee break, so Green Times, just up the street from Corpus Christi, had a good organic brew.
Green Times Coffee House, Old Town Krakow
I didn’t need a hospital, but there is large one in Old Town.
Szipital Zakonu Bonifrarow SW Jana Grandego (Zakonu Hospital), Old Town Krakow
I came next to the divider and lifegiver: Beautiful Mother Vistula
Vistula River, Krakow
The fish look happy!
Vistula River, Krakow
An exercise yard for adults!
Public Park, near St. Rita’s Church, Old Town Krakow
The new part of town beckons.
Balon Krakow Widowky (Sightseeing Balloon of Krakow), across the Vistula Church of St, Rita, Old Town Krakow
As Mass was being said, I did not go in.
Church of St, Michael the Archangel and St. Stanislaus, Old Town Krakow
This turned out to be my final church visit of the day. The structure was blessed, many times, by this man.
St. John Paul IIInterior, Church of St.Michael and St. Stanislaus, Old Town Krakow
Outside, there is a courtyard, where several bishops of the church are laid to rest and memorialized.
Courtyard Memorial Garden, Church of St. Michael and St. Stanislaus, Old Town Krakow
I came next to Rynek Glowny (Main Market Square), the heart of Old Town.
Rynek Glowny (Main Market Square), Old Town Krakow. Not a whole lot was going on today, it being Monday and a bit rainy.
After a bowl of oatmeal, at Krakow’s branch of Grain Cafe, I went back to Meininger and rested a bit. It was around three, that I got the urge to walk over to Wawek Castle. It was a pleasant walk of about 15 minutes. Here is a view of the castle, from the base of the hill.
Wawel Palace, Krakow
The place is an essential locus of Polish history, having been a fortress of the Vistulan tribe, as early as 800 A.D. It became the center of a Polish nation, in the Tenth Century. A castle was built in the heart of the earlier fortress, and several churches, those of St. Gereon, St. George, and another one of St,Michael, were built around the Cathedral. A large statue of a fire-breathing dragon is on the grounds, though I did not find it.
Vistula River, from the Tower, Wawel Palace
Here are a few photos of the fortress itself.
Watchtower, Wawel Royal CastleView from Tower, Wawel Royal Castle, KrakowView from tower, Wawel Royal Palace, Krakow
Once down from the Tower, and having been denied entry into the Cathedral, I at least got the outside of the edifice.
Wawel Cathedral, Krakow
Near the southeast area of the complex, the Great Wall safeguarded the place for a time, being eventually scaled by Swedish troops.
Wall around old town, Wawel Castle, Krakow
With that, I said farewell to Wawel Castle, and headed back to check on R and enjoy a restful evening, as tomorrow will not require an early departure, being an afternoon appointment at Auschwitz_Birkenau.
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A Sagittarian Seeker 