Bergamo - not just an airport

Italy, XI.2012

It's 6 a.m. when severe cold air wakes me up from anyway frequently interrupted sleep. Or maybe it is not the coldness or sense of danger when sleeping without roof over the head, in the spot found fifteen minutes before laying down the head, about thirty meters from a park alley. Sense which protected me so far from falling in some more serious "accommodation trouble".

I get up from my lair made of newspapers under a tree. It was Natalia's idea - brilliant anyway, because my sleeping bag haven't got wet from the ground. The idea was the more ironic that free newspapers in Bergamo contain mostly advertisements of real estates... Maybe we don't have our four walls, but thanks to them we've had our own floor in a picturesque italian town.

This is how you get around when you've got only a small luggage in Wizzair, and that means no tent. We didn't manage to find any couch host in Bergamo and for renting any accommodation here we would pay as much as for the airplane ticket. Both ways.

Why do people put fences everywhere, once they get the right to do so? Previous night we've been looking for a place for our newspaper lair for a long time, slowly losing hope that we'd find anything. Everything closed, barred, padlocks, barriers, gates, even barbed wire. Excessive space room for them, and what harm could do two sleeping bags after all?

Bergamo - it is not just an airport on the way to Milano

I've heard about Bergamo in book written by Marzena Filipczak "Tanie latanie" ("Flying cheaply"), from where I got the impression it is more worth visiting than the famous city of Milano. I got the description of small cobblestone streets in the evening stuck in my mind. Nevertheless when we've bought the tickets, the main theme was "We're flying to Milano!". Rookie mistake.

Honestly, I have a thing for small towns where nothing is happening, at least on the surface. Where with one bus you can do a tour through the whole city, not getting lost in counting stops. Maybe this is why Bergamo became far more impressing destintion for me than Milano itself. Milano full of tourists, full of trash, noise and traffic. Bergamo offers something totally different.

Visitor is awaited by landscape of magnificent walls of Citta Alta, immediately pointing out where the strength of the city comes from. For building 6 kilometers of the city walls a big part of the town has been brought down, and the actual costs exceed the projected budget over twenty times. This kind of budget changes aren't to be found even in the projects funded by the European Union.

The city walls are surrounding a high hill, which you can climb by several small streets winding and turning among old italian buildings. You could get easily lost if it's not for one essential hint - always go upwards. So we;re going, always up, in several days getting to know almost every of numerous ways from the lower city.

On the top you can find a sleepy - at least in the beginning of November - square. Pigeons don't mind being a cliche element of the landscape, they're quite comfortable with this. A middle-aged man in classy coat stops to read newspaper. On the other side of the square a young boy kneels, takes out his guitar from the case. I just love "wasting" hours watching the slow rhythm of people slowly flowing through the arteries and heart of the city. Bergamo is perfect for this purpose.

What to eat

Pizza, of course. In Bergamo I've tasted the best pizza in my life, nothing like the ones served in Poland. The amount and smoothness of the cheese cannot be compared with anything. Bought per kilo, we've paid a lot for our bum standards, but it was worth it.

What to drink 

Italy just as other southern countries, brings immediately a thought of wine. And that would be totally correct. But during my second visit in Bergamo my host, Andrea, showed me the other face of liquor face of Italy - amaro. A liquor made from herbs, deriving from mountain monasteries. And used as a remedy for everything, a glass after the meal to help digesting. A glass, or two.

Maybe it is caused by the contrast with a close and more famous neighbour - Milano. Maybe Bergamo is not so peaceful as it looks? I've spent around 8-9 days in total there, so what can I know. But for me it stays a highly recommended place to visit if you are around the Bergamo airport. Or northern Italy.


Practical information (spoiler alert):
- you can get from the airport to the city quite cheaply with public transportation. No shuttle stuff
- the delicious pizza I wrote about can be found on Via Gombito, west from Pizza Vecchia. Most probably you can spot the place by the people waiting in line in front of it
- quite good prices for amaro in Citta Alta can be found on the north end of Via Salvecchio
- tourist information can be found by the railway and bus station, behind McDonald's
- wifi in whole northern Italy is some creepy joke. Even for getting the free one (McDonald's) you have to register with phone number. Italian one.
- cheap connections to the mountains - Orobie or Lecco (mountains + awesome lake)
- there is baggage deposit close to the airport in the shopping mall.
- tickets to Milano (if you have to go...) are around 5 euro, not much difference between bus and train

Gothic wonder - Malbork castle

Poland IX.2014

While I was showing the beauty of Pomeranian region to Dani, one of the first things that came to my mind was the capital of Teutonic Order, magnificent Malbork castle. One of the largest castles in the world (some sources claim the largest) certainly makes a visitor look with respect on it's high towers, thick walls and the architectural genius standing behind this enormous structure.

But first things first, so a little background story. I realised that this trip to Malbork was actually also following the steps of Teutonic Order after it has been thrown out of Siebenburgen / Transylvania region - you can read about it in my text about Sighisoara. So in 1226 Teutonic Order came to Pomerania, to fight the Holy War against one of the last pagans in Europe - Prussians. KInd like a northern crusade type of thing. And just like in Transylvania, they've built numerous castles and new cities, and raised their flag with German eagle and black cross.

photo by Thomas Stegh

Malbork (Marienburg) castle was at first one of the many fortresses raised to defend the land of the Order. But in the beginning of the 14th century the Great Master moved their capital here, and the castle has been expanded. In today's form it is actually three semi-separate structures: the Low castle, where all the craftsmen's workshops where located. The Middle castle with the everyday facilities for the Knights - infirmary, summer and winter dining room, Grand Masters' Palace, Grand Refectory for the feasts... And the High castle, the last resort of defence, with the biggest and most prestigious chapel inside. All three castles are separated - in case one gets to the hands of the enemy, the other can still be defended. That's a part of the reason why Malbork has never been conquered with a direct attack.

The passage from Middle to High castle - high, thick walls, drawbridge and moat

Going through all of this with a guide took as three-four hours, not counting climbing on the highest tower.

View on the Middle Castle from the highest tower

Nogat river

Castle lays on the bank of Nogat river. Teutonic Order gained big part of it's wealth from controlling the rivers and taking toll from every tradesman sending his goods towards Baltic harbours like Gdańsk.

As in many cases - wealth and power lead to corruption. After defeating Prussians Teutonic Order had to keep justifying its existence by fighting other threats to Catholic Church. Their enemy of choice became Lithuania and christian Poland. Many of the knights had doubts if it's a rightful thing for a Catholic Order, an armed arm of the Church, to stand against other christians... But the decay has already began. Defeated in the battle of Grunwald and later in Thirteen Years' War, the castle fell finally into Polish hands. But it wasn't conquered, oh no - the walls are too high and moats too deep. The Order became ruined financially because of their wars, and people of Gdańsk bought the castle from Bohemian mercenaries, which were not paid by the Teutonic Knights.

View on the High castle from the courtyard of the Middle castle

Over the 18th century and during World War II the castle has been damaged to a great extent. So much that until the late 50s Polish authorities planned to dismantle the ruins, but finally the decision about reconstruction has been made.

Malbork castle after World War II

To this day some important facilities in the castle are completely ruined - like the church of Saint Mary. Luckily the Castle Museum got a grant this year for reconstruction of the church. So we were one of the last to see it demolished as on the following photos:

Tickets are not so cheap (around 10 euro per person + additional ticket for the tower), but is definitely worth the price. Maybe just watch out for the light & sound show, as it is more like a narrated story, only in Polish. Dani was highly disappointed though I tried to translate as much as possible.

To conclude - Malbork castle is on the list of "7 wonders of Poland" and that is well deserved place. If you are anywhere around Pomerania region give it a shot and you won't regret!

Svydovets & Chornohora in pictures

Ukraine, V.2012

This time less words, more pictures. Not that there ae\re no stories from there, but I wanted to give justice to these mountains without interrupting the visual narration with where we've went, what we've eaten or where we've camped. Let's just say Svydovets in the beginning of May was pretty empty and feeding our eyes with this strange mixture of hot sunny weather and snow laying here and there. Chornohora was more crowded, especially with fellow Polish people as it was long weekend and these mountains seem to be a popular destination.

On both ridges water is important (like on every ridge), but you can get some mineral water from a "wild spring" in Kvasi. Just find an old man by the shop near the railroad tracks... He will point the way :)

Enjoy!

 View on Svydovets from Yasinya

 Yasinya

 20-25 degress and snow

View on Kvasi 

View on Kvasi

On the top of Petros (2020m)

On the top of Petros (2020m)

On the top of Petros (2020m)

Lychakiv Cemetery, Ukrainian train and white Volga

Ukraine, V.2012

Lychakiv Cemetery is a very old necropolis of historic and symbolic value, established in 1786. Seems not so long ago, but if you take for example Père-Lachaise in Paris, where Molier, Balzac, Oscar Wilde and Marcel Proust are buried, it is younger then cemetery in Lviv.

Full with chapels, sculptures and tombs, gives chills both because of the artistic beauty and because... you know, it is a cemetery.

To fully experience and understand the complexity and diversity of Lychakiv cemetery a bit of historical background is necessary. The necropolis served for Catholics, Orthodox, Protestants and Eastern Rite Catholics - all together. Along the graves of Polish insurgents of 1794, 1830, 1863 and Polish defenders of the city during war with Ukraine (Lviv Eaglets volunteer militia), there can be found graves of SS-Division "Galicia" and Ukrainian National Army fighting on Axis' side. And a bit further - memorial to Soviet troops fighting Nazis during World War II. Alongside with the victims of NKVD...

Cemetery of the Defenders of Lviv (Lviv Eaglets)

Devastated during communist times - one time even with a bulldozer - now is restored and considered a symbolic place for Poles.

After such strong experience there was no time or will to see something else. We reached the train station and with mixture of my ill-learned Russian and piece of paper managed to buy tickets for the next morning. Shocked how cheap they were we asked Sofiya two times to confirm it is a full price and we won't be left somewhere in the middle of the field. And we had so-called "plackarta", which means a car with lying places. For around 2 euro per person.

Next morning we left for what was about to become a most fun and weird train ride. Cars filled with "sort of beds" made from red artificial leather, but no compartments. We loved the places after not more than an hour ride in about 30 degrees, when every part of your skin was sticking to them. And sweat began to gather in small puddles in the most frequently used, worn-out fragments of the seats. Sheets and pillows were available, I guess, but no one can be sure what have they seen. Don't get me wrong, I am not a fancy person, but knowing how sticky I am I couldn't figure out how hard they'd need to be washed...

photo by Ania Korol

Luckily the atmosphere was worth the sweat. No compartments and feeling of being trapped in this sauna for several upcoming hours brought people together. Lively talks between strangers, small bottles of smelly fluids being passed by, somebody playing an accordion, somebody playing a guitar...

photos by Ania Korol

As much as we wanted to get out of this deadly heated trap, the main difficulty was that we didn't know how to spot the station. No signs on several stops. Train conductor and passengers when asked about Ivano-Frankivsk were just waving that it's not here. And from what we've understood the train already had a huge delay so we couldn't even count on the watch.

FInally we've arrived and somehow managed to confirm it is our station. So here I was, in Ivano-Frankivsk with night falling and two girls for whom I felt responsible. Damn, had to figure out something. There was one last bus Yaremche, but judging by the number of people waiting for it our chances were not that good.

Just in this moment we've got approached by an Ukrainian woman with a small son, asking if we are going to Yaremche. She must have overheard us, and lucky for us she was going the same direction, so she offered to split a cab. Cab? For sixty kilometers? We must have looked really rich. But when she said what it will cost us and that she will negotiate with the cab drivers, the price was acceptable.

So after around half an hour and two dozens of cab drivers leaving with laughter after the negotiations she found a white Volga car with driver that accepted the conditions. In Poland in the communist times we've had a city legend about black Volga going around the streets and capturing little kids. Around 30 years ago. And this Volga looked like it remembered these times. But ah, adventure! Anything is better than to be stuck in a big city in the night.

After a long ride in the night the woman and her son paid their part and left in front of a house in Yaremche. So there we were with an uncomfortable question where the driver should leave us... Haven't thought it through, it was around midnight or one o'clock and we just wanted a place for a tent.

For some reason people are always looking strange at you when you say "Just leave me anywhere close to a forest or a field, I will sleep there". Like you're mad or something.