Polish Melodies

The last note of the tune hung in the cold air, interrupted only by the methodical drip of water in the cave. We were over one thousand feet underground in Krakow’s stunning Salt Mines and the wide open space in the underground cathedral proved irresistible. The small group of us tested the acoustics of the majestic underground chapel as fellow tourists watched and listened curiously. Our singing voices permeated every corner of the chapel, bouncing off the salt-soaked walls, interrupting the humdrum of the customary tour guide talk. Applause replaced notes, smiles replaced inquisitive looks as we returned to out tourist status. The smell of salt lingered throughout the trip, as did the glint of amber in every chamber. The burnt orange colour of the amber, Poland’s national treasure, seemed to reflect the warm, kind spirit of the people, even within the cold mine. The rickety elevator that shuttled us back up to the surface was a humble reminder of the past. How must the miners have felt making their way back to reality, dozens squeezed into the tiny cage-like box?

Who could believe less than twenty four hours before this, we witnessed Poland’s darker yet no less intriguing side. This time, packed in our dozens, the atmosphere couldn't be more different. An eerie aura draped the camp, the drooping trees signifying the only sign of life. The silence was unnerving, the crunching gravel underneath our horrified feet providing the only audible sound. We knew the history of Auschwitz but standing on the turf itself brought with it an altogether distinct feel. The fact that the nation honours those who perished here shows the warmth and strength that the people possess.

With every wave from the houses we passed and every silent nod from locals going about everyday life came a sense of open-hearted hospitality that defines the country. It was impossible to amble beyond the slow, peaceful pace of the country, and one senses that this calmness is what sets this community of people apart in this high flying world we live in.

I’ll never forget the day that Poland stole my heart, with its beautiful simplicity in its sounds, sights and smells; in its exquisite salt cathedral hidden so humbly underground where we left but a tiny reminder of our visit imbibed in the walls. And imbibed in our hearts, the gem of the country, its city slickers, its country folk, its entire nation-the people that keep the ardent Polish heart beating.