Love in the time of Lody
So say, what shall I tell you?
Krakow took it's Christmas decorations down last week. I like this.
Christmas comes and goes all too soon back home I feel. We’ve doled out the presents, pockets are light and roomy, ‘Back to work!’ cry employers. A climax that loses it's fizz like cheap champange on new years day. Like a comedown when the fuzz raid your rave, and when pub landlord blinds us as he throws the lights that scrunch our eyes ‘TIME PLEASE.'
No they’ve got it right here, and it’s root’s are faithful. Festive cheer spills well over into January and February. A warm after glow.
My flatmate took her decorations down at the begining of Feb too, the fir branches in the bathroom were the first to go. I spied them under the bin liner.
I have just finished disposing of a cheesecake. A Polish one mind. Not the kind you might find on the shelve of a Sainsburys- a frozen or do it yourself job from a box- sugar, milk, gelatine. No. A genuine, authentic, bona fide, for real cheesecake. I can’t extol enough the pleasure of putting away a cake such as this.
I bought the cheesy treat from the deli counter at ‘Alma’- a supermarket located in the newly built Galeria Kazimierz- and a carrier bag strolling distance to where I now dwell- the Jewish quarter of Kazimierz.
For those of you that haven't been to Poland before, I can tell you that Capitalism is alive and well here- at least in these parts, with stores like Ikea, Tescos, and Zara to name a few, setting the trend. No, no potato fields here if anyone was wondering.
Alma is a relatively new shopping sensation for me since boycotting Tescos, where profits stay and workers aren't continually being fucked off, picking ridiculous amounts of crates up each day in Dublin warehouses.
A fairyland for foodies is what it is, where every visit is a joyus one and shopping days have become not a chore. Where Grycan Ice cream can be found- since 1884 as it say’s on the lid-long before Mr Ben and Mr Jerry were stirring chunky monkey’s in with.... chubby wotsits.
Krakovians seem to be aficionados of ice-cream as I've mentioned before. Cafeterias and parlors selling the stuff dot the main square, and can be seen enjoyed even in this weather.
To cap it all off, the Alma shopping experience can be relished to the sweet and soulful sounds of Phil Collins. 'Two Hearts' , the blistering chorus, where I’m find myself singing aloud. Enough to turn heads and wonder what I’m doing and with that leek in my hand (thwaking it down on a Tom Tom is what I am). To the sad and forelorn ‘Seperate lives’, where I’m left ruminating it’s lyrics amongst shelves of assorted dried pasta, my basket weighed heavy at my side as moroseness creeps in. Only to be bought back from the brink with the superb ‘Easy Lover’ giving rise to the full horn section. A personal favourite.
Actually, listening to these songs again- and thinking I would never say this since leaving my fifteen year old self. He weren't half bad.
It's no secret my love affair with food. Though you wouldn’t think of it to look at me: Six feet, ten stone. Elle ‘The Body’ Mcpherson's measurements funnily enough.
Giving directions reveal the inner workings of an epicurean mind. 'Straight on over the lights, do a left past Bagel Mama, then a right past the Donut shop, do another right somewhere before that little Pizza place on the corner, and you're there.'
Enough naive noodling.
80’s music is big. Heard on the radio, on buses, on trams. And joylessly for me, everywhere in bars and clubs. It’s something I’d like them to get over. I worry that my twenty three year old female student's favorite artist is Michael Jackson. But who am I to differ? I dig our baldy one with the drums.
Thankfully Kazimierz has seen the arrival of a new kid in town. A challenger to the alluringly dingy dive that is Kitch. Club ‘Bside’ is it’s name. And while it’s dance floor is titchy, and it’s toilet singular, serves up punters generous dollops of old school indie rock, with regular ‘Indie Riot’ nights. Sweet joy.
Kazimeirz is a tiny jewish district that nestles beside the Old Town. Synagogues abound and it's labyrinthine streets and low-standing houses feel like a different world to it's neighbour, and you may very well find yourself lost here. However, this wouldn't be the worst place to lose yourself.
It holds a sad past. Approximately one hundred Jewish people are left here today since Nazi occupation. A whole world swept away. It was also here that Steven Spielberg chose to film his Schindler's List.
As little as three years ago much of Kazimierz was still a crumbling shell of its former self. Apparently known as a dirty, not altogether safe place, inhabited by stray dogs and alcoholics. Today, it is undergoing a major renaissance and these days is home to hip bars and cafe culture, dark corners and jazz. And on the weekends, legions of Israeli school kids.
There has been a derth of jobs in Krakow, and for some time now. Some young Poles lucky enough to speak English find work as barmen or women, waiters or waitresses. The average hourly rate being 5zl. 85 British pence.
This summer will see many make the journey abroad for the holidays, to save money for college and improve their English.
School is out and the semester has come to end, students have finished exams and time once more for celebrating. What better way than Tlusty Czwartek, 'Fat Thursday'.
Fat Thursday came last week. A traditional Polish feast marking the last Thursday before Lent. A day of belly worship, where people meet in their homes and cafes, with friends and relatives and eat large quanties of Paczki- fist sized doughnuts filled with Rose Marmalade... Enough!
My Top Five Krakow Klassics:
1. When Smokey sings, ABC
2. How long (has this been goin on) Ace
3. Do it again (Go back, Jack) Steely Dan
4. Stepping out, Joe Jackson
5. Hold me now, Thompson Twins
Krakow took it's Christmas decorations down last week. I like this.
Christmas comes and goes all too soon back home I feel. We’ve doled out the presents, pockets are light and roomy, ‘Back to work!’ cry employers. A climax that loses it's fizz like cheap champange on new years day. Like a comedown when the fuzz raid your rave, and when pub landlord blinds us as he throws the lights that scrunch our eyes ‘TIME PLEASE.'
No they’ve got it right here, and it’s root’s are faithful. Festive cheer spills well over into January and February. A warm after glow.
My flatmate took her decorations down at the begining of Feb too, the fir branches in the bathroom were the first to go. I spied them under the bin liner.
I have just finished disposing of a cheesecake. A Polish one mind. Not the kind you might find on the shelve of a Sainsburys- a frozen or do it yourself job from a box- sugar, milk, gelatine. No. A genuine, authentic, bona fide, for real cheesecake. I can’t extol enough the pleasure of putting away a cake such as this.
I bought the cheesy treat from the deli counter at ‘Alma’- a supermarket located in the newly built Galeria Kazimierz- and a carrier bag strolling distance to where I now dwell- the Jewish quarter of Kazimierz.
For those of you that haven't been to Poland before, I can tell you that Capitalism is alive and well here- at least in these parts, with stores like Ikea, Tescos, and Zara to name a few, setting the trend. No, no potato fields here if anyone was wondering.
Alma is a relatively new shopping sensation for me since boycotting Tescos, where profits stay and workers aren't continually being fucked off, picking ridiculous amounts of crates up each day in Dublin warehouses.
A fairyland for foodies is what it is, where every visit is a joyus one and shopping days have become not a chore. Where Grycan Ice cream can be found- since 1884 as it say’s on the lid-long before Mr Ben and Mr Jerry were stirring chunky monkey’s in with.... chubby wotsits.
Krakovians seem to be aficionados of ice-cream as I've mentioned before. Cafeterias and parlors selling the stuff dot the main square, and can be seen enjoyed even in this weather.
To cap it all off, the Alma shopping experience can be relished to the sweet and soulful sounds of Phil Collins. 'Two Hearts' , the blistering chorus, where I’m find myself singing aloud. Enough to turn heads and wonder what I’m doing and with that leek in my hand (thwaking it down on a Tom Tom is what I am). To the sad and forelorn ‘Seperate lives’, where I’m left ruminating it’s lyrics amongst shelves of assorted dried pasta, my basket weighed heavy at my side as moroseness creeps in. Only to be bought back from the brink with the superb ‘Easy Lover’ giving rise to the full horn section. A personal favourite.
Actually, listening to these songs again- and thinking I would never say this since leaving my fifteen year old self. He weren't half bad.
It's no secret my love affair with food. Though you wouldn’t think of it to look at me: Six feet, ten stone. Elle ‘The Body’ Mcpherson's measurements funnily enough.
Giving directions reveal the inner workings of an epicurean mind. 'Straight on over the lights, do a left past Bagel Mama, then a right past the Donut shop, do another right somewhere before that little Pizza place on the corner, and you're there.'
Enough naive noodling.
80’s music is big. Heard on the radio, on buses, on trams. And joylessly for me, everywhere in bars and clubs. It’s something I’d like them to get over. I worry that my twenty three year old female student's favorite artist is Michael Jackson. But who am I to differ? I dig our baldy one with the drums.
Thankfully Kazimierz has seen the arrival of a new kid in town. A challenger to the alluringly dingy dive that is Kitch. Club ‘Bside’ is it’s name. And while it’s dance floor is titchy, and it’s toilet singular, serves up punters generous dollops of old school indie rock, with regular ‘Indie Riot’ nights. Sweet joy.
Kazimeirz is a tiny jewish district that nestles beside the Old Town. Synagogues abound and it's labyrinthine streets and low-standing houses feel like a different world to it's neighbour, and you may very well find yourself lost here. However, this wouldn't be the worst place to lose yourself.
It holds a sad past. Approximately one hundred Jewish people are left here today since Nazi occupation. A whole world swept away. It was also here that Steven Spielberg chose to film his Schindler's List.
As little as three years ago much of Kazimierz was still a crumbling shell of its former self. Apparently known as a dirty, not altogether safe place, inhabited by stray dogs and alcoholics. Today, it is undergoing a major renaissance and these days is home to hip bars and cafe culture, dark corners and jazz. And on the weekends, legions of Israeli school kids.
There has been a derth of jobs in Krakow, and for some time now. Some young Poles lucky enough to speak English find work as barmen or women, waiters or waitresses. The average hourly rate being 5zl. 85 British pence.
This summer will see many make the journey abroad for the holidays, to save money for college and improve their English.
School is out and the semester has come to end, students have finished exams and time once more for celebrating. What better way than Tlusty Czwartek, 'Fat Thursday'.
Fat Thursday came last week. A traditional Polish feast marking the last Thursday before Lent. A day of belly worship, where people meet in their homes and cafes, with friends and relatives and eat large quanties of Paczki- fist sized doughnuts filled with Rose Marmalade... Enough!
My Top Five Krakow Klassics:
1. When Smokey sings, ABC
2. How long (has this been goin on) Ace
3. Do it again (Go back, Jack) Steely Dan
4. Stepping out, Joe Jackson
5. Hold me now, Thompson Twins
posted by mark t at 11:07 am
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