Auschwitz-Birkenau: One of the saddest places on Earth

"The destruction of Poland is of upmost importance..Danzig is not the object of question. The object is the expansion of Lebensraum for Germans in the East. There can be no question of sparing Poland, and that is why we stand on our decision to attack Poland at the first opportunity" 

- Adolf Hitler 

As tourists from all over the world traipsed through these haunted grounds, sullen and shocked faces emerged from each place of memorial. I've never seen so many depressed travellers in one place! 

On arrival, a grainy documentary is shown in a tiny cinema. This footage was the most disturbing I had ever seen from the Holocaust, so many testimonials, so many deaths, so much sadistic crap that went on in such a short space of time. It was horrifying!

Whilst wandering the grounds, you are absolutely bombarded by hundreds of photographs of the dead, or who are just about to die, room upon room full of shoes, old luggage and baby's clothes, quotations, newspaper clippings, how other countries were involved and places where multiple deaths occurred in the sickest manner. 

It's utterly relentless. 

I felt like I had been kicked in the guts, numbed and unable to comprehend the absolute magnitude of what happened, and how it happened only half a decade ago..

All four of my grandparents were Poles trying to survive the holocaust and just managed. My mother's mum was only 14, oldest of eight, when she was sent to a German labour camp for four gruelling years, only to return to find most of her family gone. This is the only information I've been able to squeeze out, as she has completely blocked it out, understandably. Due to this family history, I've always wanted to visit this place.

Most of the inside of the building's have been converted into shrines of rememberence, one after the other..

The welcome sign reading 'Arbeit Macht Frei' translated: 'Work liberates, sets you free'. If the prisoners had no capability to work, they were immediately sent to their deaths.

The door where the prisoners were ushered to be gassed.

The wall where mass executions took place. When my other Grandma saw these photo's she exclaimed "Oh, I went to Auschwitz a year after it all happened, and in this place, the whole floor was covered in blood!" She was only 16.

Birkenau, the place where the barracks were and prisoners kept, housed like chickens in extremely cramped and brutal conditions. It goes on for ages.

Truly disgusting. I'll never forget this day.

After we finished (4 or so hours later!!), we headed to Krakow for a much needed stiff drink.

I love Krakowia, I could live here. It reminds me a little of Melbourne (They have trams!) and it has so many nooks, hidden bars and beautiful architecture.

There's even a dragon! Smoke usually bellows out of him, but we got no love..

We stayed at the Tutti Frutti hostel in the centre of it all. The 'party planner' was an Aussie guy who has been living and working in Poland illegally for 6 months and had the cops after him, court summons and everything! He's probably been deported and banned from the country as I write this, silly, silly boy..He took us out anyway!

We went to all these fantastic bars, sampled copious shots and I managed to lose my jumper but, miraculously, not my camera, even though it was stuffed in my jeans pocket for the entire night. Of course some other Aussie's  came along on the pub crawl, you can't escape 'em really.. 

By the wee hours, I was hammered and giddy and passed out in my top bunk with a drunken smile on my face.

Aaaah, Krakow! I shall visit thee again!

As soon as I jolted out of bed in the morn, we had to make a move to our next destination, with seven long hours of driving ahead. We didn't make it very far when I yelled "Stop! I'm gonna vomit!" and there, on the Polish highway, I had my first O.S spew. Lovely.

 

Bye-bye fishies!

(These dates are a little screwed up. It's actually Boxing Day!)

So, my cousin has this oversized, massive, novelty mug that has all these daggy Polish descriptive words, words that twist the tongue into little knots when trying to pronounce them. It has a picture of a guy in a pink convertible with greased back hair proclaiming "I to jest moj kubek!" translated: "And this is my mug!" (I obviously have A LOT of time on my hands at the moment!)

Try it: Wysportowanego (vi-sport-ovanego, muscly), Atrakcyjnego (At-rak-tsi-nego, attractive) Nieprzecietnie, (Ni-epshe-chi-etneye, not sure) Zdobywcy Swiata (Zdo-bi-fchi Sh-v-ia-ta) Elokwentego (E-lok-veny-ego), Mega Przystojniaka (Roughly translated: 'Mega Babe') Blyskotliwiego (Bwi-skot-liv-iego, shiny, or something), Inteligentnego (Intelligent??) Czyli krotko rzecz (Ummmm..) and, something a little simpler: Macho sexi! Phonetically, Polish is pretty simple, but to actually say the convoluted words becomes trickier. 

It's just past Christmas now, hope you all had a delightful time. Waking up on Christmas Day morning to this was pretty special.

The snow fell again in our area after a few grey and depressing days, so the white Christmas I was dreaming of arrived. Inspired by the freshness of the air and delicate snowflakes falling, I went for a long walk, bypassed the church service that was going on and visited the cemetery to say hello to my late grandpa. 

Poles are ceremonious and deeply steeped in tradition when it comes to things like death. They also have a heavy preoccupation with it and tend to discuss it a little too much for my liking. When this happens, I leave the room. 

I arrived at the cemetery and it was filled with lit candles, fake flowers able to withstand the conditions and a few people milling around, visiting..

 

I managed to survive the onslaught that was Wigilia, (Christmas Eve). 3 feasts in the space of about 6 hours, some vodka inclusive of course! It's all that same type of heavy, hearty food at each place too.  Borsch, pierogi, potatoes, cabbage, compote and of course, the carp.

This fish is fresh. Very fresh.

Then they all end up like this, ready to be fried.

Mmmmmmm..

Vegetarians would struggle here in Polska..

After a morning spent preparing all the food,

I went to my first stop, the Trybala's. My grandpa is pretty conservative, so Babcia and I kept sneaking off to have a little drink and giggle, out of sight. Note the interesting take on the Christmas tree in the background..

Presents were given (Although the hat was way too big. I totally misjudged the size of his head! I thought all grandpa's had big heads!)

family called, 1st dinner eaten..

Then onto the Cholewik's for round two! 

Babcia with her brand new kettle..

Absolut Vodka, sequined..

Mikolaj and I,

and then my cousin Marcela arrived..

By this stage I was a little drunk, very full and tired. At the third and final stop I felt like I could pop at any moment, but did manage to eat some poppy seed cake and this sultana poppy paste. Lots of it. So much so that I started to feel woozy. Heroin's made out of poppy seeds, right?

Recover well and have a smashing new year!

Memory lapse on the slopes.

'Twas the day before Christmas Eve and we decided to head for the hills to go for a bit of a ski, although conditions were NOT perfect, extreme ice and very slippery.

All this time, I had been bragging about my fantastic skiing prowess to my uncle and cousins.

"Skiing in Australia?" They would say "Bullshit! It would be like lying under palm trees and soaking up the sun here!" 

I had to prove my worth.  

From what I recall, I was a confident, fast and agile skiier. I'd done a couple of trips to Hotham and Falls so thought it would be a cinch, although it was a couple of years back. 

Little did I realise, my nasty gin hangover had temporarily fogged up my memory and I got to the top of a very steep hill and thought, "Shit, how do I do this again?!"

Crippled by fear and battered by low confidence, I kept falling on the frozen snow, one stack after another, much to the amusement, albeit frustration, of the family. Then, by the third trip, patience waning and getting pulled up in a huff, it all finally clicked into place and I started to glide, effortlessly. 

I was happy..

Savoured these breathtaking views..

 And then retired to the quaint little cafe you see in the picture above and had some hot rum and cherry drink. Delicious.

Here's my cousin Mikolaj (Pronounced Mi-ko-wai)

He speaks pretty good English, so translates when I struggle. The Polish is getting better by the day and I've even started thinking in the language!

 On the way home, the sun was seen for the first time in a week. Well, sort of.

We then dressed the tree with beautiful, hand-made baubles.

With all the snow and hooha, it's truly starting to feel like Christmas. 

x Onion

Poland. The land of delicious potatoes.

16th December-20th December 2008

Well, I've finally arrived where my roots lay, after 40 long and arduous hours in transit, 11 of which were spent loitering, drinking bloody mary's, people watching and killing time at Frankfurt Airport. Thankfully, they had showers, 6 Euro well spent.

Ugh.. 

This trip will see me 19 days in Poland, 5 days in Munich, Berlin and Hamburg, Germany, then off to Jonkoping, Sweden for roughly six months on a Uni exchange and then, who knows where in Europe until about August. 

Every time I come to Poland, I really feel a sense of warmth within, even though it really is bleak as hell. It's probably often described as a grey, drab place, but to be honest, I've found some prettiness in this industrial, worn-out landscape...

My family is from a little town just outside of Krakow called Bielsko-Biala. The air here is invigorating and crisp with soaring mountains surrounding. It started to snow just as I arrived...

I have a couple of cousins my age, one of which, Marcella, is weeks off giving birth and will hopefully pop him out before I go to Sweden. She eerily fell pregnant the week my grandfather passed away AND it's a little boy!

Mikolaj, my other cousin, is taking me to the Polish and Ukraine border for a New Years festival in the mountains. Should be an interesting and a completely unique way of spending this time of year, unlike most where I just get trashed in the eve and spend the day at some mediocre event..Well, I'll still get pissy of course! I've also been informed that his friends have made some boiled lemony-vodka concotion. Mmmmmm..

My brilliant uncle, Wladek, has supplied the vodka and gin every night, is taking me skiing post Christmas, driving me around and completely spoiling me. 

Such a legend.

Apartments here are teeny-tiny and simple. Unfortunately, my dad's parent's fridge is broken, not exactly the best before Christmas. Not to worry though, in weather like this, they can just use the windowsill, hehe..

Mum's mum, Little Babcia (Grandma) is the epitome of an 84-year-old Polish woman. Rounded, rosy cheeked and constantly on a feeding mission, she is the cutest thing..

To keep her muscles and bones working, she performs 250 repetitions on her little bike a day, as well as weights on her arms..

Then she settles down at 4 o'clock every afternoon to watch her favourite show in the world, 

The Bold and the Beautiful..

Aaaaw.

Polish T.V is HILARIOUS, full of cheese and very Eurotrashy. Poles have a smugness in the way that they talk, kind of whingy and brattish..They also ADORE singing in English! I find it a complete novelty watching shows in another language, like Sex and the City the other night, the translations are simply gold. Watching has jogged my deep seated memory and language skills and I can now have half-decent conversations, hooray!

Oh, the food. Bland as the recipes may be, the quality of taste is completely different to what I'm used to, as it's organic and natural. The little breakfast sausages are very delicious and eggs are fresh, straight from the chickens. Both Babcia's are always like "Eat, eat!!" so I shovel it all in and then feel incredibly bloated. Well, I don't want to offend them! 

They lived through the War after all..

 

Now, the Polish have some odd traditional values, but one that really makes my stomach churn is the Carp. Not only do they buy these fish LIVE but they let them swim in the cellar bath for a couple of days before killing them and eating them, fried and crispy, for Christmas Eve (Wigilia). I thought my belly could handle it, and I even offered to help in the prepping process, but as soon as I saw them swimming around all slimy-like, I shuddered hard. 

Eeew..

Poland certainly lives up to its stereotypes, as it is truly is the land of the potato..

Preserved, marinated goods...

Pierogi and the like..

and baking stuff with grandma..

So right now, I'm really relaxed, eating, eating and more eating until I burst and liking this down-time. After Christmas Eve (Where I'll have THREE feasts in one day! Oh lordy!) I'll be heading into Krakow for a couple of nights staying at a hostel in the centre somewhere, probably visit Aucshwitz and then New Year's and all that.

Hope all is well on your side.

x Onion