I arrived at Zakopane late on Thursday night. I was giving myself a full day there on Friday and Saturday, then returning Sunday morning. Since it was so late, I decided to take a cab to my hostel. Big mistake. They speak a different dialect of Polish in the mountains. With my foreigner accent, the cab driver couldn't understand me when I said the street and address of the hostel. Eventually he took the paper from me. Then he proceeded to drive in circles before stopping and taking the paper from me again. He turned on the light in the cab and put on his glasses so he could actually see. At this point he says, "Oh! Stara Polona" Like I was deliberately hiding something from him. Then he goes and drops me off at this apartment complex that is not my hostel and proceeds to force me out of the cab. I'm trying to explain that it isn't right, and he insists that it is. So, I pay the 15 zl, begrudgingly. Very very begrudgingly. Then I proceed to walk down the street, roaming the wilds of Zakopane in the dark, until I reach my hostel.
At this point, I'm very frustrated and thinking that my vacation was going to go this way. Luckily, the person at the hostel was super friendly and nice when I checked in. My room was small but adorable. I settled in for the night, knowing I could get up early and explore.
Explore I did. I had a map of the city, but I tucked it away and just followed my instinct (or rather, all the other people) until I found the main street. It's a pedestrian street with all sorts of shopping and restaurants. The whole town reminds me so much of a resort town in the US. Though, being Polish, it was a bit different. For one, there were fewer oxygen bars than in Breckenridge!
I explored the town then stopped at a Tourist Information desk to get some information about must-dos for the next day.
The next day, I arose bright and early to go explore the mountains. It was the first day that the funicular was open to top the green mountain so that I could look out at the valley and the white mountain. I'm sure these mountains have much better names, but I was satisfied with my distinction between trees and snow.
Afterwards, I wandered back into town. I did some souvenir shopping, picking up a few things for myself that I had really wanted, including a very nifty set of jewelry and a shirt that says "Jestem Hardcorem." I love little anglicisms in Polish like that.
Next, I went to the Museum of the Tatras. It was OK. There were a few neat exhibits like the inside of traditional mountain people's homes. Otherwise it was just an average little museum.
After the Museum of the Tatras, I headed for the oldest street in town to see some of the traditional wooden architecture. Zakopane is very proud of its wooden architecture. I guess it's pretty cool. I stumbled into the oldest church in the city, which is dedicated to Our Lady of Czestachowa. So you'll notice that the image behind the altar is a copy of the Black Madonna. Of course, after sitting down to take a break and enjoy the peace of the little church, a tour group comes in, surrounding me, and proceeds to start praying the rosary in Polish. There was no way to get out without majorly disrupting someone's prayer moment. So I awkwardly sat until they finished. I may have finally memorized the Hail Mary in Polish, though!
There was an old cemetery behind the church. It was beautiful, and a lot of the graves featured things like this really pensive/depressed looking Jesus. He's known as Jezus Frasobliwy. So, after seeing these, I remembered hearing about it at some point in a tour I've taken somewhere in Poland at some point in my life. Anyway, I went back down to the nearby path toward the mountain. This was lined with tourist stalls. I eventually found the coolest little Jezus Frasobliwy for myself. My only regret is that I didn't have him earlier so that I could send him home with my parents! Now he'll weigh down my giant suitcases instead. C'est la vie!
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