Wolf Trekking in Poland

Duration: 6 days, 5 nights

Location: Poland, Europe

Budget: €1200

Miles Travelled: 1,200

A short week in Poland looking around beautiful Warsaw before heading out into the coutryside to look for wolves.

We spent a few days trekking and tracking wolves across the wilderness befor heading to the Salt Mines and then back to Warsaw before the journey back to Ireland.

Day 1
As usual, The day started off early – Mike called over at 0600, as in oh my God its 6am!. Bags which were packed carefully the night before were thrown into the back of the car and off we headed into the breaking dawn – The Magics Back.

After an hour on the road, We stopped on the way in Mikes house and picked up Kevin, who was sitting back nice and relaxed having breakfast – mornin lads, he said with a broad smile.

We took a 3hr flight from Dublin Airport to Warsaw via Franfurt – we arrived at Okecie airport at 18h00. When we arrived it was nighttime but luckily our prebooked guide – Boris – was waiting for us, so we transferred our bags one more time into another vehicle. First impressions was that Warsaw airport was small but very clean infact amazingly clean, maybe after travelling to the 4 corners of the world and some very dodgy airports meant that we werent expecting too much from Eastern Europe – however it was spotless and the trip into the city only reinforced that. Far from been some backwater city trying to catch up the throws of the Iron Curtain etc. – on the way into town we started to get the strong impression that Warsaw was an amazing vibrant city, with excellent roads, modern cars and very beautiful women!

We arrived on the outskirts of the old town of Warsaw where we had booked the Hotel Cytadela. It was a good central hotel and we were going to share it with about 100 Polish troops! We checked in at reception and noticed one or two officers in full uniform walking around the lobby (which you usually dont see in tourist hotels), but we just chalked it down, as by this stage we were all pretty tierd and just wanted to get our room and have a shower + change of clothes. Of course murphys law being consistent we were going to be on the top floor of the hotel (which obviously had no lifts) and we had to walk up 3 flights of stairs with our bags on our backs (They would make a fortune from a porter enterprise in this country!). The rooms themselves were simple and clean – so we dumped our stuff, washed and headed into the night in search of part-ay. (Its amazing how the thought of clubbing with pretty young things will reinvigorate 3 lads who have travelled all day across mainland Europe)

We walked from the hotel to the city centre (10 min), to stretch the legs after all the flying – despite initial doubts – this turned out to be a good idea as the cold polish air in our lungs really perked us up. Once we hit the colonial centre we headed for a bank machine to get some zlotys then went in search of bright lights. Sure enough the very first bar we saw was an irish bar! (all over the world!)….so it would have been rude to pass without calling in “for one”. Then we headed towards St. square where we found a decent restaurant and chowed down. We asked around where was a good place to club and we were directed to Club , however when we got there they wouldnt let us in as apparently we didnt match the dress code (shirt tie or cocktail dress – this place looked pretty swish) – disappointed but not defeated we headed on to the pulsating heart of the city and soaked up the atmosphere – someone had told us about a super club over by the Hilton Hotel, so we wandered over that direction, our eyes looking in all the ditches for a tie.

The main icon in Warsaw is the Palace of Science and Art – it is the Eifel Tower of the East. A huge building monument which looks like a tapering office block with a 4 face clock on top – it is quite bewitching at night. On the way past the back of it, Mike spotted a few pretty girls disappearing into its bowels – now the Hilton was still a bit away and we were bruised with earlier attempts to get into a swish disco – but fortune favours the brave, so we headed up the steps and sure enough what looked like the official entrance to the Palace was also the doorway to a superdisco – Quo Vadis. We blagged our way in at the door (it was a college night) and headed down into the the club – it was amazing. The place was laid out like a colleseum with a huge circular dancefloor, with a fountain, yes a fountain, with water in the centre. The place was mobbed with all the beautiful people of the city (and us) living it large – so many pretty girls shaking what their mammas gave them – thanks to jedi kevin we got talking and boogying with some lovely locals and had a great night.

Day 2

Up after 5hrs sleep! – the holiday had really started! Down for breakfast (food is a great substitute for sleep – so we were starving!) – when we hit the dining room however the place was swarming with officers. We had been beaten to the buffet by the Polish 5th Airbourne division, by the time we got to the cereal and toast table it had taken heavy casualties and there was also collatoral damage on the eggs+bacon stand. However we managed in this sea of iron pressed dark green uniforms to mount a daring assault on the fruit and bread bowls and then retreated to a corner of the battlefield to feast upon banana sandwiches.

We then headed out to scout around Warsaw by day – we checked out the tomb of the unknown soldier, the old quarter. We wandered around its many parks in the brisk cold autumnal air. As we walked around the city yawned and woke up – busses whirred past us as did cars and trams. We then headed back to the hotel, grabbed our gear and got a taxi to the central train station (Dworzec Centralny) – we needed to book tickets for our return trip to Krakow -where we would meet our other Adventure Amigo – Garry. We boarded the train and got a compartment for the three of us and off we went into the countryside – clickty clack. It was the end of autumn, so the trees that werent already bare wore rich golden overcoats of leaves. Some forests were a rainbow of browns, coppers and yellow.

We arrived in Krakow-Glowny at lunch time and again took a moment again to marvel at the beauty of the local women. We headed up town in search of the Hotel Jan, where we had arranged to meet our compadre. Good planning had ensured that the hotel was bang smack in the heart of the cities old quarter. We entered a narrow marbled lobby where we were given directions to our room and informed that our buddy had checked in that morning. The door to our room was like a bankvault door, huge black steel with copper studs – after a couple of thumps – Garry opened the door with a laugh – howya lads – fancy meeting ye here!.

After some joking around we headed into Krakows famous square (30 sec from the hotel). It is the largest in Europe although some of it was been dug up for pipe laying. We headed into the Cloth Hall the squares indoor market and was greeted with a treasure trove of souveniers. Wooden carvings, oil paintings, sparkling jewelery, precious gemstones, fur skins, chess sets, swords and shields even dragons (which are closely linked with the city). It was haggling paradise for us. We surveyed what was there (no point getting anything until we returned from the forest) – however that didnt stop Mike buying a 5ft sword!!. Horse and carriages clopped past us while the sun set and we headed back to our hotel.

Food deprevation set in so we went in search of a popular restaurant we had read about – Pod Animoili (Beneath the Angels) – many of Krakows restaurants were underground in basement cellars. When we got there they were full up (as I said its very popular), so we made reservations for later and went down to Krakow Castle and the Jewish Quarter. Krakow Castle at dusk was atmospheric, you could picture dragons circling overhead – it is also famous as it is reputed to hold one of seven sacred holy shakra stones – stones of energy that are distributed around the world according to Hindu mythology.

We headed back to Pod Animoli, down a narrow stairs to a caveronous medieval restaurant and a slap up meal.

Day 3

Another beautiful day in Poland and time to head into the hills in search of european wolves- we packed our gear (3 rucksacks, 2 camera bags and a 5ft sword!) and headed down the street to meet our guide. Our guide, Darek, when he saw the 5ft weapon remarked that the Wolves arent that big! We set off in our jeep due east of Krakow into the Carpathian foothills. We arrived in Magurski NP at noon and met the Gracon family in Krempna we would be staying with. They owned a small forest farm on the outskirts of the NP where they had built a few guest lodges around the main farmhouse, which we would be staying in. The were friendly folk who couldnt speak a word of English and we couldnt speak Polish so Darek did all the translating. The were highly amused that a bunch of Irish guys would come so far for the slim chance of seeing wolves in the dense forest – we explained that it was just as much about being where the wolves roam as actually seeing them and just because we dont see them, doesnt mean they didnt see us. They thought this was a sound philosophy and gave us a quick tour of their place – which included a fish farm! They were farming a couple of hundred trout for resale and promised us that we could try and catch our supper tomorrow night.

The weather was overcast and drizzling as We headed up the hill to our lodge which was amazing. It was shaped like an inverted V, with the black slate roof acting as the walls as well. The rest of it was made out of deep brown pine – it had a balcony and a satellite dish and blended in perfectly with the surroundings. Inside it was just as appealing, one room with adjoining bathroom downstairs with a bed, table, wood stove and tv and upstairs there was the second room with three beds (matresses) – so we divided up bunk space and put the kettle on. Within minutes there was a intoxicating foresty smell of burning wood and soon there were hot cups of tea been poured out.

The farmer was a park ranger at Magurski and through our translator started telling us stories over dinner. Dinner was mushroom soup and homecooked bread as well as compot, a local favourite – a red fruit drink made out of fermenting berrys which are boiled.

After lunch it cleared up nicely into a blue sky afternoon, so we headed into Magurski NP for our first nature hike, looking for those wild canines. This was beautiful country with gently rolling hills and valleys in the backdrop of the mighty Carpathians. And against the blue sky the decidous forest tapestry of leaf colours was picture postcard. At park headquarters we met our park guide for the afternoon – Leslaw Lesniak. He showed us around his hunting lodge and explained his itinerary for the next 48hrs for us. He wanted to give us a flavour of the whole park region, its peaks and glens, the rivers and meadows – he explained the ecosystem of the region and told us what we might see – wolves (a long shot), bears (longer still), deer, beavers, wild pig etc. He seemed to be a bit anxious to explain through Darek that he had been working in the park 16 years and only 3 times had he come across the wolves by accident. But we assured him that we knew this and gave him our nature philosphy that we had given the farmer and he seemed happy (that we wouldnt be too disappointed), but also I think he respected that we were here not just for the big money stakes of the wolves, but to get an appreciation of the whole environment – to be close with nature.

We left his lodge and with him as point man, we headed up our first (of many) hill. On the way he stopped every so often and told us stories about local shepherds who had experienced wolf attacks on their flocks. It was dry and slightly windy and the grass was wet underfoot, but it felt great to be in the great outdoors again in Gods own playground. After only about ten minutes we spotted a movement up ahead – something had broken the horizon on top of the hill we were climibing – it was a deer, no two. The forest shyest animals had walked right across our path. We froze, luckily Leslaw was a good guide and we had climbed the hill with the breeze blowing into our faces, so the deer couldnt smell us and now that we had stopped walking we blended into the grass and clumps of thicket in our green combat pants and tops. We whirred off some camcorder footage and snapped some 35mm on our SLRs at full 300mm zoom – our primal senses heightened, we beamed at each other at this early success and at that the deer headed off into the forest.

Across the open meadow on top of the hill, the breeze blew across us carrying the distant barking sound of the deer and the rustle of leaves. We headed down then into a valley, the meadow closed in around us and soon we were ducking around thickets and scrub and sploshing in mud patches where the sun hadnt shone since the end of Summer. Leslaw wanted to bring us to a glade in the forest where the wolves were known to go in the late afternoon to soak up the last solar energy of the day, however as we circled the glade nothing was there except the odd sound of the forest fruit plopping to the ground when the wind shook the boughs. Plan B was to head towards the river to see could we pick up the wolf trail there – river banks had mud and mud meant a chance of finding all kinds of interesting tracks hopefully of the lupian kind. We heard the river before we saw it, gushing through the heart of the forest. Along the riverbank Leslaw and Darek would stop and tell us stories about the micro environment of it and with magician like skill Leslaw would lift a rock and there would be a newt or frog. Like a good storyteller, he was able to weave a tale just by pointing out the types of trees on the bank, the species of plants , even with the geography the of the river he was able to tell us which fish would be found at different parts. We searched the banks for tracks and found deer and pig prints but no wolves. This part of the forest was semi naked, the wind had removed the trees clothes over the past two weeks according to our guide and what was once covering the brances was now on the ground squelching under our feet. By now we left the riverbank and headed deeper into the forest – this was real Hansel and Gretel countryside, I was just waiting to see breadcrumbs on the path. Into the towering forest we tried to pick up the trail once more, looking for animal paths in the sea of leaves on the floor. Leslaw pointed out the wild pig path to us, which after some training we were able to spot ourselves (it is true that the more you know the more you see). We walked for ages under the grey giants, as the setting evening sun sparkled through the canopy and the wind whistled through the forest like an organ player. Eventually Leslaw told us that this plan was going to work either, as the animals could hear us coming due to the crunching of leaves by our boots – this was confirmed when we spotted fresh deer tracks that had recently bolted (due to our footwear no doubt). Ah well we had learned a lot and seen twice as much, so we headed back home. The great thing about nature though is that we saw plenty on the way home too – Leslaw pointed out trees where deer had eaten the bark and explained how we could tell how fresh it was. Once we were out of the dark forest, we headed back across the hilltop meadow through chest high fields of golden grass, where Leslaw introduced us to the wonderful world of fox pellets! As we walked through the field he pointed at a slight mound in the grass and remarked that it would be a good place for a predator to position himself to see the local terrain – when we headed over to it, we found plenty of evidence of local predators in the form of bones, pellets and even some feathers – this was Tracking 101.

We also came across a small shepherd hut, which looked very basic and we joked that we had stayed in far worse places over the years. Back to the lodge to scrape the mud off our boots, wash the hands then down for some supper. Due to the cloudcover the night was inky-black, we headed down with torches from the lodge to the farmhouse and was greeted by a chorus of five barking dogs and an escort of two. The farmhouse windows glowed a welcome in the night, once inside we had to ensure not to bang our heads as the roofs were surprisingly low especially for masai Garrry. Food was a delicious selction of cold meats, compot and home cooked bread. Conversation bustled with talk of wild deer, fox pellets and local stories. The farmer offered us a video of the NP to watch in our lodge to give us a brief overview of the area, which we watched later on. We fell into slumber around 10pm exhausted after 5hrs trekking up and down hills and forewarned of a 5am wakeup call – as wolves we were told were morning creatures.

Day 4
Up before the crack of dawn, dressed quickly and headed down for a hearty breakfast. On the way into the NP, Darek pointed out a tree which had been felled by beavers – which he said we would investigate later on. Darek was heartily enjoying his trip with us into the carpathians in particular Magurski NP, he hadnt been here in twenty years when he used to come walking here with his Dad. He confessed that this trip wasnt really a job but paid pleasure and as much as he told us about Poland and life East of the Iron Curtain we swapped stories of the Emerald Isle. We met up with Leslaw our tracker again and started trekking into the forest again. This time the Plan was to pick up the wolf trail as soon as possible and check out another region of the park where they were known to congregate. On the way through the forest we came across a large metal container about the size of a leg, Darek explained it was a bomb casing from the second world war. We were slightly taken back at this tangible relic of European history in the middle of the forest. Darek went onto explain that they whole forest was a battleground at one stage for allied forces against their Nazi foes as the park straddles Polands southern border with the Czech Republic. It was poignant to hear the stories of the ferocious battles that took place here and the fact that a lot of the hollows we were travelling through were in fact bomb bunkers or blast damage, it was good to see that the forest had reclaimed the site of so much damage and turmoil, but it was another example at the amazing landscape that was around us. It was a place of great beauty and of troubled history, many soldiers had fallen here and their ghosts echoed through time in the form of this rusting metal which we had found, reminding us that war is futile.

We continued on and found fox holes and wild pig tracks. Leslaw then brought us to the edge of a thorn thicket, where he explained his cunning plan that we would go through it ! – just before a mutiny happened he went onto explain that the reason for this apparent madness, was that the wolves often went through here and we could tell their path of direction by looking out for the visual clues of their fur trapped on thorns – excellent. So in we went, very carefully – watching for ricochating branches from the trekker on front and keeping our heads low for fear of losing an eye. We found the wolf fur and followed the track to a muddy patch where we found wolf tracks and more disturbingly bear tracks! We immediately had the uncanny feeling of who was hunting who. Now there were two top predators out there in the forest ahead with the ability to make us into a mid morning snack. I had the usual escape defence of 1) not been the slowest runner in the group and 2) carrying the universal forest ranger protection device – the personal panic alarm – pulling a pin would release a 100dB wave of sound which according to wildlife rangers worldwide should scare away any dangerous animal – that was the theory anyway and I reached into my pocket to ensure that the sound grenade was there and took some comfort from that. Of course we all had penknifes which would have been useless and Darek joked that we should have brought the 5ft sword! Our biggest advantage though against any ravaging attack was that most wild animals will give humans a very wide berth and will only ever attack if provoked which we had no intention of doing.

We walked out of the forest into a huge open clearing between hills. The wolf trail went cold here. Leslaw thought that the wolves might have gone into the forest across the way, so he positioned us with at 30 ft gaps along the edge of the opposing forest and his plan was to walk through the forest making noise and seeing what would rush out past us (deer, pig or even wolf!). It was by now a beautiful evening and after walking for 5hrs already the thought of sitting down at the edge of this forest under a tree in the meadow for an hour sounded like an excellent plan. So we all spaced out, got the cameras out and waited…and waited. Im sure some of the lads dozed off to sleep in the warm sun, the view was amazing across the hills which were patched by forests and clearings. Every few minutes I heard rustling in the forest and waited for some medieval animal to rush out in my direction, but it was invariably a magpie which even though would cackle menacingly at me from the tree was not very dangerous.

After an age of magpies, the was a discernable snap in the forest behind me. What ever made that noise was bigger than a bird rustling though the bushes – snap – crack – yes it was a big creature and it was heading towards me. My pulse started to race and I tried to keep my composure, camera lens cap off ready to shoot what ever appeared out of the gloom, sound grenade ready in case what ever came out charged me and another trick I had learned in Nepal when tracking rhinos – suitable tree identified to climb in a hurry – I was as ready as I could be and by now the noise was getting louder and closer – branch after branch broke, I clenced my teeth, the bushes shook and out into the meadow popped Leslaw!…”ello ello” he said smiling – “no wolves ?”. I breathed a sigh of half relief – no no wolves as I shook my head – he then called out to Darek and the others an we all congregated under a tree. He explained through Darek that he had walked through the forest as planned and had actually seen deer and a couple of wild pigs and had pretty much ushered them into our path – but they must have doubled back. Still no wolves though, but we were sure we heard them in the distance laughing at us!

Full of smiles and jokes and rested after our hour in the sun we headed back down the mountain to the truck – on they way by accident we found very fresh wolf tracks (we knew they were fresh as they were dented into the ground but had no water in them, even though it had rained last night and every other animal print had water in it) – there it was teasing us – soft pug marks with claws (wolves being like dogs cannot retract their claws when walking, so its an easy way to tell the two apart). It appeared from the ground that the wolf was stalking a deer – it was hunting. So fresh wolf tracks heading from the forest we had just been “guarding” heading towards our jeep. We joked about the fact that the wolves were probably getting themselves ready for a photoshoot for us back at the trucks and we didnt have to go trekking for 7hrs at all – Leslaw joked also that the wolves had actually ran past us when we were sitting down, we just didnt see them! So we took some photos of these fresh tracks and for measurement sake we put a Timberland boot track in there beside the prints of the wolf and the deer – the hunter – the hunted and the observer.

Once we got back to the jeep, no wolves or deer anywhere or even there tracks. Leslaw suggested we try our luck looking for the beavers. So we drove to the spot where we had seen the felled tree earlier on. Sure enough upon examination, there was the characteristic pyramid shape at the end of the tree trunk where a rodent had eaten around. This was amazing, seeing something that you usually read about in a magazine or saw on a documentary on front of you. We scouted around the area and soon found the traditional beavers dam, where the little animal had expertly engineered an artificial lake. Leslaw pointed out a section of the slow moving river where the water seemed more muddy than the rest – Darek then explained that we had just missed him and the animal had bolted into the river and stirred up the sediment in the water at this point.

Darek and Leslaw then promised to prove to us that there was actually wolves in these hills and they werent just going around with a wooden pole printing tracks into the ground for western tourists! They brought us to to a local family who very kindly invited us into their living room where hung on the wall was a huge wolf skin. In another room was another wolf hide and a wolf skull and Darek talked us through the anatomy pointing out the quite sharp canine teeth. The house was like a mini natural history museum with stuffed pheasants and boar, foxes and rabbits. The family told us that some of their displays had been used in a museum exhibit. Their daughters then told us that they had seen a wolf and cub during the week in the fields near their house and when the wolf saw them it disappeared. They sent us to talk to their shephard who was minding their sheep in the hills above their homested. We headed up there and found a young teenage boy, sitting over a campfire with two dogs (as big as wolves) at his side and 100 sheep in his view. He shared a wooden hut with two other shepards and they welcomed us and invited us in to have some food. Inside the hut they were smoking cheese over a smoldering fire. Needless to say Mike tasted it first and assured us it was edible! The cheese was made from the goats milk which they also kept nearby. They explained through Darek how to use the cheese with a frying pan and some oil to make a cholestoral bomb – knocks 5 years off your life! Since the shepards were inside with us, they had left the flock with they youngest of them a 10yr lad, who when we headed out of the smoky cabin, we saw that he was having trouble with the flock who had bolted across the road. The other shephards shouted loudly and headed down into the field to help him, we thanked them and were on our way.

Back at the farmhouse we had a hearty meal of vegtable soup, fresh trout with boiled potatoes, rich red compot and apple cake slices with duskings of icing sugar. After lunch we agreed with the farmer that we would replace the trout we had eaten by catching some more in his “lake” (ie fish farm!). Now there is an old saying that something is as easy as shooting fish in a barrel or indeed catching them. So with high hopes we took some fishing rods and headed out back for some straight forward casting and catching. Mike kicked proceedings off with a deft cast and within 20 seconds a bite on the line, meant fishy number one. Kevin followed this with another easy catch, while Garry seemed to be having a slow start. This pattern continued for a while, whereby after about 15 minutes, Mike and Kevin had caught about 20 fish while Garry was still checking his bait and rearranging his position on the lake for optimum placement – but to no avail, all he could catch was the odd leaf and even that put up a struggle. Half an hour passed and kevin and mike were still reaping in the fish like captain birdseye and Garry couldnt it seemed catch a cold!The fish were tantilisingly close they would come right up an nibble the corn right off the hook, they were feasting like kings.

It was bizarre – it was like the fish knew it was his hook and were teasing him by jumping out of the water around it. So Garry swapped rods and got even more bait and relative feast in fish terms – but still nothing , still the distant gurgling laughter of trout. The joke was he was holding a fishing rod and I was holding the camcorder and yet after 30 minutes we had both caught the same number of fish – 0!. Eventually after much casting, joking and swearing he gently pulled the bait through the shadows of the lake and whirrrr the reel rolled – a catch – he expertly brought it in – the fish was fighting furiously for the right to swim and not fly. Garry was delighted all the ribbing by the lads and jokes for the last 30 minutes would be silenced, at this stage the fish knew it was hooked and seemed to quieten down. Garry brought the line right in to 3 feet and had the fish dangling at the end of his rod. He was bringing the fish over onto the river bank to dehook and put in the bucket, but while he was bringing it through the air the sun glinted in the trouts eye and it seemed to flicker as he realised that it was Garry that caught him – this was too much for him -this was the bloke they were all slagging beneath the water for the last half and hour and with a quick flick of his tail the fish hopped of the hook, onto the riverbank and flicked again and plopped into the water. Garry stood there in disbelief, we nearly bled with laughter.

However the curse was by now lifted and Garry started to reel them in by the bucketload, so much so that the farmer asked us to stop fishing or there would be none left. In total we had caught about 15 healthy fish which would feed the guesthouses for the week. Fresh from our aquatic success we decided on a self led tour into the surrounding countryside to try out our new tracking skills. Although it got dark pretty quick and we had to turn around and head home incase we got lost in the woods. After supper we asked if we could spend some time in the hide. We had heard about this the previous day – it was basically a tree house about 2 miles into the forest overlooking a glade – the moon was gibbous so it wasnt too dark, however it had start to rain heavily and it would cloud over and go black every so often. Despite this we requested to be brought to the hide, for one last chance to seek out those pesky wolves – this time from a tree lookout. Bemused at our enthusiasm due to the cold, rain and darkness the farmer who as I said was a forest ranger agreed and warned us that in order to see animals from the hide we should be absolutely quiet. So off we went into the night Darek, the farmer and 4 Irish guys sweeping torches left to right hoping not to catch the glint of a bears eye on the way. After what seemed like an age walking in the rain we came to the hide and climbed up – it was a tight enough squeeze for all of us, but we got in there and waved goodbye to the farmer and Darek. So there we were up an oak tree, in the heart of a forest, at the foothills of the carpathians in the middle of Poland in the pitch black waiting for wolves! It was straight from a Brothers Grimm tale, the grey shadows of the trees, the groaning of their boughs in the wind, the hooting of owls the clicking of insects – we couldnt stop laughing. It was flogging rain any sane animal would be snug in its den for the night and here were four idiots up a tree peering into the black trying desperately not to fall out of the branches. It was a great laugh and we stuck it out for about 30 minutes, by then we were cold and wet and could hear the distant laughing of wolves, so we called it quits and made our way back to our mountain cabin and heated ourselves off the wood stove. Garry put the kettle on and we all tucked into apple slices and tea and watched a BBC program about the Silk Route (which we are planning to do in the future) – Travel Fate or what!

Day 5

Up at 7am, had brekkie and said goodbye to our polish hosts. We headed back to Krakow and on the way we stopped at the world famous salt mines. Here from the visitors centre we descended 70m (250ft) by wooden staircase into the bowels of the earth. The stairs seemed to go on for ages and peering over the side was an optical illusion of lights and depth. Our guide told us about the history of the mine, then walked us through its shafts. The reason the mine is famous is due to its statues which are intricicately carved from the very salt that was mined here. The first one we saw was a huge stylesed statue of one of polands most famous sons – Copernicus. Throughout the shafts and bunkers of the mines was a bewtiching array of statues and scenes from ancient legends, christian stories and pagan lore, as well as exhibits of how the mine worked and the lives of the miners themselves. The mines are a huge lattice of tunnels and mesh of timber frames. Accompanying some of the exhibits was a sound and light show which was excellent. The mines have the usual geogological features of underground mines such as rockpools, including one very innovative pool which reflects the spiriling stairs clinging to the wall above it and with some careful placement of the lights it gives the impression of a cylinder where the stairs continues down forever. The true wow factor however in the mines is kept until almost the end of the tour, when the guide brought us into a huge cavern which holds a church. The wall had carvings of scenes from the New Testament as well as salt statues of Pope John Paul (arguabley Polands most famous son) and Our Lady of Lourdes — the place is a miracle of NaCl crystals – even the chandelliers are made from salt – a truely unique place.

We drove on to probably the most sombre place we have or ever will visit on our epic trips – Auswitch. There were a hundred reasons not to go and another hundred to go – so we went. Steven Spielberg had spent a year here on the fringes of Krakow in the early 1990s bringing his epic masterpiece Schindlers List to the screen, which has touched everyone who has seen it. We now were ready (or as ready as you can be) to go there for ourselves. The afternoon was cloudy and quiet – pathetic fallacy indeed. There definitely was an air of tragic human history and great emotion at the place. We wandered from house to house reading the stories of the people, the place was full of powerful imagagery especially the rooms full of shoes, combs and most disturbingly human hair. I think though on reflection it was good that we saw both it and , as on our trips around the world we have seen places of breathtaking beauty built and maintained out of pure love like the Taj Mahal and this was the other side of our world and a cold reminder that we must be on our guard and never let it happen again. We were all subdued and when we came out of the camp, I will always remember seeing a pretty girl who saluted us in the carpark and beamed widely lighting up the gloom – even in a place of so much hurt there was a sign of great beauty in our world and that is in my opinion the legacy of the place – we must move on.

We finished our tour of south poland by returning to Krakow city and seeking out the legendary dragon of the castle which breathes fire. The dragon in question is a 15ft metal sculpture around the back of the castle with a throat made from a blowtorch rig and for special events he breathes pure butane and spits fire into the sky – a reminder of a time when dragons ruled!

We had one last look around Krakows famous Cloth Hall market to buy our souveniers and trinkets – a lot of woodcarvings of forest animals like the mighty bear and ironically when we went looking for wolf carvings we couldnt find any! We also picked up a lot of amber which is a semi precious stone which Poland is famous for. Roman troops used to mine it up at the Baltic and send it back to Rome where it adorned many goods and maidens necks.

We said our goodbyes to Darek and thanked him for a great trip of the region. We also said goodbye to Garry who was heading back to Germany while we hopped on a train back to Warsaw for one last nights clubbing.

Day 6

Up and gone from our hotel by 8am to the airport. Flew home via Frankfurt, where we stopped long enough to do some souvenier shopping, arrived back in Ireland by that evening, tierd but happy.

Guide: Darek Kuzniar mobile phone 0604531241 (from abroad dial 0048 604531241)

agrotouristic pension of Gracon family in Krempna (photo below). Grazyna i Jan Gracon , Swiatkowa Wielka 1, 38- 232 Krempna, (0-13) 441 41 15 ,608 753 847