Pieniński Park

"I meet you, 9 o'clock. Tomorrow after day? Very good? Very good". Those were the last words we heard from Mieczyslaw on Tuesday afternoon. So, It was 'Tomorrow after day' and 9:00 in the morning. Mieczyslaw greeted us with a smile outside our hotel and we were on our way to the Pieniny (Peeaneeney) Mountain range in southern Poland. This region is called Malopolska, meaning 'Little Poland'. He warned us that it was a two hour drive, and seemed a little hesitant about taking us, but was up for the journey. It was sub-sweltering, but with the windows down on his aging Mercedes, we were cool enough.

We ventured South from Cracow for about an hour. Eventually, Mieczyslaw turned off the highway onto a smaller road, careening through small towns and quaint farms snuggled under the mountainside. 'Quaint' is probably the word-of-the-day for this trip. For the next hour, I was on the edge of my seat, waiting to summit the mountain and finally get full view (and pictures) of Poland. The road went up, and up, and finally I could see vast expanses of Poland (and checkoslovakia to the South). But there were still views of alpine-like mountains in front of us. I wondered when we would finally ascend to the top.

Although already worth the trip, my fears of disappointment slowly began to grow as the road gradually turned back down towards sea level. Little did I know that the plan was not to go to the top of a mountain, but to a popular tourist destination: A rafting trip down the Dunajec River. We arrived at the tourist point still ignorant of the fact that our destination was actually a river. Mieczyslaw directed us to get in line while he went to get us a ticket. Fair enough. But we still had no idea what the line was for. With no river to be seen beyond the line, I still had hope that we were waiting for some sort of cable car to take us to the top. We could smell coal burning and the line was moving very slowly. This suggested to my hopeful heart that the ride to the top was simply slow and popular. I was prepared to wait.

After about 10 minutes of baking in line, I went to investigate. I walked up past the line (politely) and went to see what the fuss was. The line seemed to end at a restaurant window. Still curious and hopeful, I kept walking and finally saw the river with boats lined up. After 5 minutes looking for Mieczyslaw, he told us that, of course, we were here for the river ride and that there was no cable car to the top of any mountain. Normally, I would be all in for a river ride, but I had come for some promised 'panorama' shots of Poland.

Our heads hanging and necks sweating, we slumped back into the car. But our mis-communication with Mieczyslaw continued. He was still adamant that he would show us the top of a mountain 'very good, very good' , but it was clear to us that he had given up and was ready to return to Cracow. We ate our first meal of the day in a nearby tourist trap, put the remaining lunch in the trunk and headed back to Cracow.

I put my disappointment behind me and enjoyed the silent ride home. I began to wonder if the mis-communication was an underlying cultural difference between Americans and Poles (or anyone for that matter). Was 'panorama' understood differently in different cultures? Did Americans value pictures of vast expanses from the pinnacle of a mountain, while the Poles valued other perspectives? The question is probably ill-posed and irrelevant, but it did enter my mind.

We felt culturally defeated that day, especially because Marcia heard Mieczyslaw utter something about 'Americani', but the cold leftover lunch was good and we were still excited for the next day. The trip had been beautiful and every bit worth it. We decided that Zakopane, the place from which we had been dissuaded, would be included in the next trip... and that we would do our research on the 'very good panoramas' next time.

Also:

PIES!