Auschwitz

Original posted on London to New York blog, March 26, 2010

Oswiecim, Poland

THE first question that met me after wandering out of Auschwitz was simple. “How was that?”

At least it was a simple question compared with those which had been raging in my mind for the previous couple of hours, wandering around the site of the former concentration camp.

Answering was not simple. It involved opening and closing my mouth a few times, shaking my head and uttering a non-committal, “Dunno, really.” Not insightful, but it has taken a while to form coherent thoughts on what we had just senn.

Having had a few hours to digest it all, three things stick in my mind.

The first was the chill which ran through my body in the short trip through the rebuilt crematorium, almost at the end of the museum.

Auschwitz Gates
Work Sets Us Free – The infamous entry gates to Auschwitz

A simple sign as you walk out of the somehow inappropriate sunshine into the cold, semi-darkness reminds you this was a place where many thousands of people walked to their deaths and asks for silence as you walk through.

That adds to the sense of the ghosts filling the air and the feeling of almost crushing confusion and desperation at what went on there.

There’s little to see – a simple memorial on one side, the fires used to carry out the final acts of such a cruel story on the other – and it takes just a few seconds to walk through.

You want to run out as quickly as you can, but that is fighting against the power seeping out of your legs as the sheer weight of what you have witnessed presses down on you.

It was certainly a relief to come out blinking into the sunlight and leave the darkness behind. Shedding what lies within the darkness from my mind will take a fair while longer.

The second point which hammered home came in the third of the camp huts which house a variety of exhibitions about what the camp was used for, how it was run and the people subjected to such horrors.

The first two catalogued why such a camp was set up, how the people were shipped in to work as slave labour until starvation, beatings or the sheer surfeit of cruelty ended their days.

Horrible as they are, they didn’t really get to me. This was little not seen before in films, documentaries or books. And the sheer numbers of people who were fodder for the Nazi machine in these camps is hard to take in.

But then you enter the third hut and the central hallway is lined down its entire length, several rows deep, by pictures of those who died here.

Birkenau
Endless horrors – the chimneys at Birkenau stretch into the distance

Face after face after face, many with a date of birth, each with their camp number and each with the day they entered the camp.

And the day they died.

Many lasted just a few weeks, a few reached four or five months. It takes a lot of searching to find anyone who lasted any longer.

The faces all show utter bewilderment. They did not know what went on in these places. None could have guessed the horrors that really lay ahead when herded onto trains.

After the incomprehensible scale of the numbers involved and the pile after pile of discarded suitcases, shoes and even hair from the previous rooms, these faces brought the whole thing back to a human level.

Each face, scared and confused as you try to wonder just what they went through, hits home. Hard.

Those endless pictures – broken every so often by a flower or ribbon left by later generations – make for uncomfortable viewing, but this was never going to be easy, was it?

In comparison, the third lasting emotion was anger – not at the people who carried out these atrocities. You do not need to visit Auschwitz to have that feeling.

No, this was anger at myself.

Every German and Polish school pupil has to visit a concentration camp every year, so the place is crawling with teenage tour parties.

Large numbers of them look extremely bored, block the way for anyone else and a few even laugh and joke at the most inappropriate time.

And, as happens walking around anywhere with lots of people, their attitude began to make me fume.

But how can you get angry at such behaviour here of all places? How did their behaviour really matter compared with what happened in the prison block, the gas chambers or at the execution wall?

How can you be intolerant of other people surrounded by this? Wasn’t that what caused all this – intolerance and a refusal to understand other people?

It was certainly a sobering morning. Not pleasant, not comfortable and not something to repeat in the near future.

But I’m certainly glad I went. From the moment the itinerary first arrived with Auschwitz on the list, it was down as a must-do trip.

Among all the beautiful sights which have come our way in the previous five days – and those to come as we plough on to New York – the images of Auschwitz, and sister camp Birkenau (with the endless rows of chimneys which are all that remain from the huts which housed the prisoners), will stay with me.

Not through photos – it just didn’t seem right to take more than the couple which appear with this entry – but by them being burned onto my mind.

And of that, I’m glad.

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All I Want For Christmas Is A Dukla Prague Away Kit

Prague - View from castle
View over Prague from St Vitus Cathedral

Original posted on London to New York blog, March 25, 2010

Prague, Czech Republic

A VARIETY of things are already becoming second nature as we settle into life on the road.

The constant packing – or, to be more accurate, shoving stuff in – my bag to get it down to the bus on time, making sure you are not last through the door of your hostel room in the race for the best beds, the post breakfast snooze as we bed down for a day on the bus and the frequent changes of currency.

Rolling out of the Czech Republic and into Poland, we headed out of the land of the Krone and into the world of the Zloty.

Border crossings have been signalled not by passport control – yet to be asked for by anyone official as we cruise across the EU – but by the service station stop and a new problem.

As we rush to use the facilities, we discover they want a cash contribution which catches out those feeling smug at changing our Krone into Zloty late last night.

Prague - St Vitus Cathedral
Prague – St Vitus Cathedral

They want coins, we only have notes which sparks a frantic – thankfully, given our needs, not that frantic as they let us pay on the way out in Poland – hunt for coins of various currencies for something they will accept.

After his diplomatic victory over the Germans last time, Mike appears to be saving his finest moments for border crossings.

His plan after this latest one is the instigation of a Piss Pot on the bus to collect a variety of coins to ease the weary traveller’s path in their hour of need.

It is a small point, but one which should make it into guide books.

Those of you paying attention will remember crossing into Poland follows two nights in Prague, which certainly did not disappoint after being given a big build-up by various people before departure.

It helps the Plus Prague hostel is clean, well-equipped (although the much-anticipated swimming pool was sadly closed) and comfortable. Each dorm room of four comes with its own loo and shower, which makes life a lot more comfortable.

Prague - St Vitus Cathedral from Charles Bridge
Prague – The view back to St Vitus Cathedral from the Charles Bridge

We headed out for a tour of the city’s castle and St Vitus Cathedral which, as well as being beautiful in their own right, provide staggering views from their hilltop setting over Prague and the Vltava River. It is almost a town in its own right perched on the hill as the city sprawls out below in all directions.

With a bit of sightseeing/orientation and cheap beer and pizza back at the hostel under our belts, a group of headed out to The Cross Club.

A rabbit warren of tunnels and dingy corners running over several floors, much of it decorated with moving car parts, it certainly caught our imagination. What was supposed to be a couple of quick drinks ended in the early hours with the first sighting of a lubricated Marius – the alter ego of driver Martins when unencumbered by the constraints of driving the next day.

Prague - The Astronomical Clock
Prague – The crowds gather for the Astronomical Clock’s hourly show

Thankfully, the following morning provided a semblance of a lie-in (since when is being up just after 8am a lie-in?) and a lovely spring day sightseeing in Prague’s delightful old town, taking in the Charles Bridge – sadly partly scarred by building work at the moment – the town square with its crowd-pleasing, if slightly underwhelming, astronomical clock and Wenceslas Square, scene of much looking out and all major rallies which have dotted the recent history of this city.

It is a gorgeous place crying out to be explore, which saw the entire group dispersing across the city and clocking up the miles on foot.

Not sure which made a couple of the groups’ eyes go wider (names must be left out to protect the innocent), the sights at the Sex Museum or The Medieval Torture Museum. Not sure they were able to tell some of the exhibits apart.

Last night was pretty quiet, a couple of beers in town and a meal as thoughts began to leave Prague and turn to our next scheduled destination.

Prague - Wenceslaus Square
Prague – Wenceslaus Square, scene of much protesting and looking out

Sadly, the trip to Krakow took a bit longer than planned so the planned outing to Auschwitz, which has been at the back of my mind all week, had to be postponed by a day.

The prospect of visiting such a place produced a sudden change in mood and tempo – at least until the temptations of free welcome shots and a few beers in the hostel bar last night – and a mixture of anticipation and unease…

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