G'Day Gdansk!

OK, that would work much better if I were Australian, but what the heck, I’ve been to Australia, so IMHO that counts. Regular readers will always cut me a touch of literary leeway.

So – where to go next? My downstairs neighbors had visited Gdansk in 2017 and thought I might like it, so what the heck, here I go. Gdansk is a Polish port city on the Baltic, called Danzig by the Germans. The long weekend of September 13-17, 2018, seemed ideal and I made my flight and hotel reservations accordingly. I chose a hotel right in the center of Old Town, the Blue Buddy-Hard Rock apartment hotel, situated above the Hard Rock Café on Gdansk’s main square, Dlugi Targ. Can’t get much better than that.

My LOT Airlines flight left Budapest on Thursday, Sep 13, around 10 o’clock in the morning, an easy time to fly. A two-hour-plus layover in Warsaw (arrived Gate 46, departed Gate 4!) and I arrived in Gdansk around 2:30 PM. Easy peezy. I had made arrangements with my hotel to pick me up at the airport, which was easier than taking a taxi or public transportation, so why not. Took about 25 minutes to get into town and my check-in also went off without a hitch.

The entry to my flat was on a side street next to the Hard Rock Café. I was met by Kuba, who gave me the keys and showed me around. The rear of the building and stairwell were not well-maintained, but the flat was modern and beautiful. One bedroom, kitchen, bathroom living room – very nice. There was even an electric guitar hanging in the living room, in case I woke up in the middle of the night and felt the need to jam. As always, I dumped my suitcase and clothes in my room and went out to explore another first-time city.

Gdansk’s first claim to fame was its membership in the Hanseatic League as an important Baltic port on the crossroads of North East and Central Europe. World War II was actually ignited by a dispute over the control of the city and by the end of the war the city lay almost completely in ruins. Like Warsaw, however, most of the old buildings have been painstakingly restored or rebuilt.

Gdańsk is most well-known in modern times as the birthplace of Solidarity, led by the charismatic leader, Lech Wałęsa; it was the labor and democracy movement that helped bring down the Communist government in Poland, which marked the beginning of the end of the Cold War.

I kept all this history in mind as I wandered out onto the main square of Long Street. So over- powering! Lots of beautiful slender buildings re-done in the old style of architecture, with spires and peaks and statues and everything either repainted vibrant colors or decorated with various types of scrollwork. Absolutely stunning.

All along the main street called, appropriately enough, Long Street (Dluga Targ), the reconstructed buildings (98% of which were destroyed during WWII) are used as restaurants, amber stores, shops and cafes. There are no entrance doors on this side of the buildings; the entries are all on the rear side of the edifices – or would those be called the front? Not sure, but, anyway, nothing to mar the surfaces facing Long Street.

I walked down to the Green Gate, just 75 meters away, and through its arches, to find the Motlawa River, flanked by old buildings and new ones under construction, all leaning over the river bank and eager for new buyers to spend their money propping up the economy of Gdansk. Lots of character. I crossed the river to the Wyspa Spichrzów, or Island of Granaries, grabbed a snack on the island and then crossed back to my side, where I found the Cathead Pub with a terrace on the river. A nice beer was sorely needed by this time, and I enjoyed the peaceful ambiance, even with the hordes of tourists flocking the streets and river banks.

Then I walked the length of cobblestoned Long Street, all the way down to the opposite end and the Golden Gate. Gdansk simply oozes, secretes, exudes charm and character. Buildings, colors, architecture, carvings, statues, all have that old-time look and feel. I took a side street to the parallel Piwna Street and managed another beer at the Amber Pub. Everything was just so picturesque and photogenic, I couldn’t stop taking pictures. In fact, I took around 250 shots in just 3 ½ days. Most of the buildings were only four or five stories tall and they nearly all had a porch sticking out from the street side. Each building had a loooong metal drainpipe coming down from the roof and emptying into a long trough carved out of cement and ending in a spout carved into the shape of an animal or person or whatever. A unique arrangement.

I popped back to my flat (only two flights of stairs, no lift!) and got my light jacket to guard against the encroaching chill. I tried the Scottish pub just around the corner, but, other than the national flag on the wall, it was as Scottish as Hong Kong. The sumo-sized bartender was friendly, but there was no Belhaven Best beer and no music there on a Thursday night, so I moved on. I checked out the nearby Red Light Pub, but, again, other than the red lights, there was nothing special about it. I tried to have dinner at Jack’s, but the waitress sat me down and promptly forgot about me, so I hoofed on over to Hard Rock. At least we know what we’re getting there.

Well, sort of. I must admit, this Hard Rock was not particularly outstanding. The wait staff, while friendly, were very slow and not accommodating – they sat me in a blast from the air conditioner, and I had to move twice. The food was only Cool! After a rather bland meal of Twisted Mac, I decided on an early night and turned the corner to the entrance to my flat area. Suddenly I heard the distinct sounds of karaoke. Yep, there was a karaoke pub right there! I scurried inside and checked out their song list, and it was pretty terrible, which means it didn’t have any of my favorite karaoke songs. Disappointed! Time to catch some Zs and prepare for three days of heavy walking.

Friday morning, cloudy and cool, saw me walking farther down the riverside to see the iconic Crane, a gigantic crane that used to lift all sorts of things out of the ships that docked here from abroad. The Hansa League sponsored some energetic traders and they spread out all over the world to find their goods and bring them back to the Baltic. And a lot of them were removed from their ships by this crane. Excellent.

My destination this morning was the World War II Museum, about a 20-25-minute walk from Long Street. It was an easy stroll and I got to see what was happening along the riverbank, mainly tourist boats, old pirate ships for the real tourists, big metal cranes, restaurants getting ready to open (usually at ten AM). I found the museum easily enough, and it is an impressive structure, like a gigantic leaning block with its underside made of reflective glass. I had a light snack at the café inside and then took the self-guided tour.

Well, sports fans, I’ll tell you, I’ve been to quite a few museums dealing with World Wars I and II and they pretty much blur together after a while. Don’t get me wrong, they are done extremely well and are very informative and try really hard to give the viewer the true hard nasty bloody facts of war, and they do succeed in that. This museum had some bloodier and grosser exhibits than others I’d seen, but, all in all, it was still an anti-war museum. I spent about two hours inside, going through many of the exhibits in details, skimming over others. In the end, I didn’t learn anything new. It was the same old message: War is hell. Avoid it. If you don’t, you’ll be sorry.

I emerged into a hazy sunshine and walked back to the river embankment, where I had lunch at Republika. I arrived there a few minutes before 1 PM; my pirate cruise was scheduled to start at 2 PM, so I figured I had plenty of time for lunch. Silly rabbit! The national soup of Poland looked good, so I ordered that.

OK, all of my faithful followers, you know what comes next, right? Right? Come on, say it with me….. “Oh, we don’t have that!” The smiling young woman with braces on her teeth seemed almost gleeful when she told me that. I wanted to stab her with the salt shaker. But I remained (mostly) calm and ordered the chicken wings. It then took her nearly ten minutes to bring my lemonade and fifteen minutes later she finally brought me my lunch. It was now 1:25 PM. My boat was right in front of the terrace where I was about to have lunch, but I knew I’d have to get on board quickly to get a good seat – or any seat at all.

I scarfed my wings as quickly as I dared and chugged down my lemonade and looked around for Braces Girl to get my check. Nowhere to be seen. Five minutes – seven minutes. I finally chased her down inside the restaurant and hovered over her until I got my check. There was space on the check for a tip. I mentioned this to her and told her the only tip she’d get was “Don’t read Trip Advisor next week!” Crummy service.

I did get on my boat and did get one of the last seats on the foredeck and took it easy for the next 90 minutes, cruising the Motlawa River all the way down to where it runs into the Baltic Sea at Westerplatte, where there was another WWII monument. The day was warm and the sun was shining and the breeze was refreshing and the mostly Scandinavian and German tourists weren’t too awfully annoying and I got to see the shipyards a little closer and that was interesting, so the afternoon turned out OK after all.

After my cruise, I walked Mariacka street, the Old Town’s premier street for amber shops, a lovely tree-lined, cozy, cobbled, porched, stooped street reeking of ambiance and amber. Later I stopped at the Sphinx restaurant on the main square for another of those great amber beers before catching my afternoon rest.

I thought I’d look for the Bruderschaft restaurant for dinner, but, once I found it, realized it was a bar only – no food. Next door was the Rekawiczka restaurant, however, which served up a lovely wild boar with a mushroom risotto and glazed beets. Yum. After dinner I waited for their live music to start at 8:30, as advertised on their sandwich board out front, but by 9 PM no music. I did hear some live guitar sounds coming from across the street, so wandered over to the San Marco restaurant, just in time to catch the last ten minutes or so of the two guitar players as I sipped my Sambuca in the cool Baltic night.

Saturday was a sleep-in, as the museum I wanted to visit didn’t open until 10 AM. I walked down Long Street to the Golden Gate and through its arches to find a bus and tram stop. I caught the Number 8 tram for only two stops and got off at the Solidarity Museum. The European Solidarity Centre (Polish: Europejskie Centrum Solidarności) is a museum and library devoted to the history of Solidarity, the Polish trade union and civil resistance movement, and, by extension, to other opposition movements of Communist Eastern Europe. Solidarity played a major part in the fall of Communism in Europe, but now it’s pretty much a thing of the past. However, its museum is pretty fancy.

Entrance is through the old shipyard gates and then on into the huge museum itself. The history of Polish resistance to Communism is traced in every detail and, interesting though it was, I sort of skimmed through the last part. Museums just tire me out. One hour was enough to spend in this 3-4 hour monument. I caught the tram back to the Golden Gate and found the Hop On Hop Off bus tour almost ready to leave, so I hopped on – as one does.

The narrator was a fun Norwegian who made up for the fact that the tour itself was not that great. I suppose it was mainly because I had already seen 90% of the sights the tour visited. Plus, of course, the tour stopped for 15 minutes at – guess where? – yep, the Solidarity Museum! It would have been a better deal if I hadn’t already seen all those sights.

After disembarking, I walked back toward the center of Old Town, passing by the Shakespeare Theater. This building is a long, black edifice without windows but with a sliding roof for those hot summer night performances. It resembled nothing more to me than a gigantic Black Hole, sucking in all light around it. Strange choice for a theater.

It was late for lunch, but I persevered and walked through the Green Gate and across the bridge to the Wyspa Spichrzów, (Island of Granaries). Only a few years ago this island was in ruins and therefore strictly off limits and no one was allowed on it; now it’s a hub of new flat construction, restaurants, marinas, pubs and a gigantic Ferris wheel. The Gdansk Eye?

Anyway, I also crossed the river on the opposite side of the island and found the Hotel Gdansk, which incorporated the Brovarnia Brewery in its innards. Very nice beer (Zioto Browarnia Jasne) and a light lunch of meat dumplings with Kashubian plum sauce and forest mushrooms. Afterwards, a brief afternoon rest was called for.

Dinner that night was at La Pampa Argentinian steak house, where I sat outside next to one of those tubular flame contraptions that keep you warm in the chilly night air. I ordered the sirloin steak and, to be healthy, a side of broccoli. OK, now, can you see the Greek Chorus forming behind me? Ready? All together: “Oh, we don’t have that.” Sigh. At least they had green beans instead, so I could get my veggie input for the day. A nice red wine complemented the meat. An after-dinner wander found me turning a corner onto a street concert, with beach lounge chairs spread out on the street and happy, relaxed Poles enjoying the free orchestra and singer. I joined in (the audience, not the singer) and rested while the music flowed around us.

I must have then stopped at five places looking for a dessert, chocolate or cake or mousse or something sweet, and nobody had anything! Ten o’clock on a Saturday night and everyone seemed to be out of dessert. In a last, desperate gamble, I checked in at the Sphinx restaurant and, lo and behold, they actually had at least one dessert left – mine! Chocolate Mousse with whipped cream accompanied by a heated Hennessey. My night ended on a happy note.

My final G’day in Gdansk was mainly spent walking the neighborhoods I’d missed previously and looking for special restaurants and pubs. I had breakfast at a very small café way off the beaten path: scrambled eggs, toast, bacon, tomato and juice. It was a dark grey and cloudy day and somewhat breezy, not conducive to summertime strolls. However, the atmosphere and ambiance still had a positive effect on me, so I continued to look for those special little streets and nooks and crannies that so often pop up in these old European towns. I even picked up some souvenirs, which I hadn’t intended, and had my picture put on a post card for mailing.

I chose the Pierogarnia on Piwna street for my last lunch. There are several of these little pierogi places around town and I was eager to try them. I went for the “Glutton’s Choice” of eight pierogies (dumplings), or two each of the following: Traditional (pork meat with crunchy pork); Hunter (self-minced boar meat with juniper berries and pork rinds); Kashubian Style (goose meat with dried pear and apple and dried plum sauce with a hint of whiskey); and the Peasant Style (baked black pudding with fried onions and crunchy pork rinds). The portion size was just right and I left the diner fully satisfied.

I walked off my lunch for a couple of hours then repaired to my flat for siesta time. I had noticed the Lebanese köfte on the menu of the Sphinx restaurant and that sounded like a good dinner. I should have known: be careful of the restaurants on the main tourist street. The food, as it turned out, was quite good, but the service that night was not. I started with a cocktail and went on to the köfte: beef rolls with Arabic rice, grilled veggies and spicy harissa sauce. I went with the recommended Monterio Tempranillo wine as an accompaniment. The veggies were hot but the meat and rice were only warm. My waiter disappeared after serving my food and I had to chase him down to get my check. At least his poor service spared me from having to leave a tip.

And, finally, Monday: Leaving Day. A mid-morning Full English Breakfast at the Hard Rock Café and my driver picked me up around 11 AM. Turned out my flight from Gdansk was 30 minutes late and from Warsaw (arrive Gate 45, depart Gate 5) one hour late! But at least I got home safe and sound after all that. Another interesting weekend in a really beautiful little gem of a city. Check it out – you’ll like it.