Yekaterinburg: Surprisingly Pleasant City, Though it Could Just Be the Hotel

After our six weeks in China, we planned to leave the western Xinjiang region of the country and enter Kyrgyzstan, one of the harder ‘stan names for me to remember in the past that would soon become my favorite one. But the journey from ‘wait that’s a real country’ to ‘this is my favorite stan’ is a long one, one that doesn’t resolve in this post or even the next one – first we have to cross a scary mountain pass to enter the country, and then we have more time in yurt camps! I know! Again! That’s the next post; I know you can’t wait to read more about how terrible I am in the outdoors. Today, let’s talk about that mountain pass: the Torugart Pass, one of the lesser-known, lesser-traversed ways of going from Kyrgyzstan to China or vice versa. 

​On this auspicious Monday, we woke up at 7am, after going to bed at 1:30am (so much repacking! and showering!) and not sleeping at all really because I knew I had to wake up for a thing (my worst habit), and we began our Kyrgyzstani journey. We planned to cross from China into Kyrgyzstan by one of the most complicated methods – the Torugart Pass. We are silly. We hired Kubat Tours (based in Naryn, Kyrgyzstan) to handle our crossing, and they hired Old Town Tours (based in Kashgar) to handle the Chinese end. OTT (yeah you know me) was actually 100x better and more professional than the Kubat guys, which is a shame because we only had the former a short time, while Kubat also arranged our first yurt camp night once we got through the border so we were stuck with the asshat from that company (Kubat’s son, it turned out) for longer. 

So at 7am we said goodbye to Dominic at the Radisson Blu Kashgar and said hello to our nice driver and nice English-speaking guide from Old Town Tours, who would drive us the several hours through literal west-bumblefuck China from Kashgar to the Kyrgyz border. We prepared for the long day of car, police, thirst, and painful bladder as we ventured to cross the Torugart Pass, a mountain crossing from China’s Xinjiang region into Kyrgyzstan. The Torugart Pass is a Class II border – meaning only citizens of the two bordered countries can use it. So how do we and other tourists (not a lot, but still others) cross it? You must, and I mean MUST, hire a Chinese guide and car to take you up the one side, and you MUST hire a Kyrgyz guide and car to pick you up on the other side. I mean it. Well, they mean it. They won’t let you past even the first checkpoint (of many) on the Chinese side, I don’t think, if your Kyrgyz car hasn’t arrived at the border fence yet. The Chinese driver hands you off and you walk a few steps over the actual/final border into the waiting Kyrgyz car. There are a lot of times you’ll think you went through immigration for the last time, but you’d be wrong. This pass is not exactly a tourist hotspot, as you are not allowed in or out without this setup, in either direction.

The drive to the first border checkpoint was mostly dirt and mountains, and it was quite pretty. Well, first, we had to stop at OTT offices to reprint our very crucial documents because they had made mistakes in our names. You can’t see it, but I’m rolling my eyes so hard that it is probably dangerous. Every company we dealt with in China asked us repeatedly to make sure that we double and triple and 100-timesple checked our passport details because Chinese officials are very strict about everything being right, and of course despite sending copies of our passports multiple times, this company was the one to screw up and not us. ughhh. Anyway, we drove through Kashgar and I noticed a cab with its display reading ‘8/15/2008 18:58’ and I was like ‘sure that is close enough to the actual date, 8/28/2017 at 9am, this is probably a good sign.’ 

My first pee stop was behind an abandoned (so the driver said, but I don’t know) stone facade in a desert-like expanse that was already starting to look like Mongolia. Remember back during that trip, how I reacted the first time someone suggested I simply find a place to hide in order to pee? My how I’ve changed – stopping by this facade was my idea. 

Soon we entered a more mountainous region with little to speak of besides a few random shacks and small farms, a region the guide called No Man’s Land. We stopped at a few passport control kiosks on the road where Chinese officials just looked at ours from the car. It was not exceedingly stressful.

Despite all the red tape, we were not the only tourists crossing the pass today – but we were at Chinese immigration with literally everyone else using it today! The timing of passing is very specific, so your driver will make sure to get you to the Chinese side by a certain time because outside of that window, you’re screwed. Or at least they are supposed to make sure of it. So all the crossing tourists were there at the same time. At about noon (China time, so 10am Kyrgyz time), we were at one of the final Chinese immigration posts, the kind you have to actually go inside. Once inside, we met the others, our first tourists in a while – a Dutch couple and a huge bus filled with senior citizens from Australian and New Zealand. That’s everyone who crossed the Torugart on this day. We had lots of time to chat with them because nothing was on when we arrived  – like I said, this was it, no one had arrived before us or anything. So we had to wait while they found people to turn the machines on (turn the machines back on!!). Then the Chinese officials checked our passports – they did a check at a regular border-control-looking window as our bags were x-rayed (the extent of the baggage inspection, actually, for the entire day) but then after that, in the same place, our passports were collected and pored over by people in a secure room, for like 30 minutes or more, which was weird. This building had one squat toilet for each gender, and the stalls did not have doors.

While we all waited the long time for our passports, we also had to wait for our vehicles to make it through inspection. Apparently, we didn’t get there at a time that suited the Chinese officials (even though we were all there the same time, so, it seemed right) so they made the cars wait extra long before okaying them. Boolsheet. So we got to know our fellow intrepid travelers. The Dutch couple had booked with Kubat as well, so we were with them that evening in the yurt camp and got to talk to them a lot. The elders from Australia and New Zealand – traveling on a giant bus so maybe 40 of them? – were doing a big tour of lesser-known Jewish stuff around Asia, like visiting small synagogues and meeting Jewish communities in random places all over tarnation. They were all Jewish themselves, mostly linked from their community back home, and I said “Oh I’m Jewish!” and they said “Yeah we thought so.” Ummmm okay? Is it my frizzies around my hairline or my nose that gave it away? They told me about all the surprising Jewish communities from Beijing to Almaty and asked if we found any in China ourselves and I said “I found really good bagels in Kashgar! Did you try them?” I have a one-track mind. It was nice talking with other travelers though; I thought I hated other travelers but maybe I just hate yoots. One lady in the old Jews group was originally from the UK, so she knew our neighborhood in London and asked if we went up to Finchley or the surrounds at all – that’s the Jewish area of London – and I said “Oh I go to Golder’s Green a lot because that’s where the Kosher Kingdom store is and that’s the only place to buy good pretzels!” They smiled politely. 

Finally we got the China exit stamp from this stop and drove an hour or two down to the next please-exit-China-here fence, but they were on their freaking lunch break. They said it could be a 90 minute wait. So this was our punishment from the last group of officials who held our cars too long; they knew we would then get to this stop on their lunch break. So frustrating. We took our lunch break (raisins and bagels that we luckily brought because OTT did not bring us food, or water) in the back of the van. There was an open toilet thank goodness; it was abysmal. Finally they finished lunch and opened the fence to let us out of China. GUYS NO MORE CHINA! 40 days and 40 nights is a lot! We out! 

​On the other side of the fence was our Kyrgyz car and guide from Kubat Tours. The Dutch couple (the non-Jews) (hey hey hey we were the majority at the Torugart Pass! Map it!) also booked with them so we were all picked up by Kubat’s dumb son and another driver. The Son smokes a lot and is quite unfriendly. We drove to the Kyrgyz entry point, the four of us tourists now moving together for the rest of the day. We got stamped by a guy behind a window who clearly did not expect to have to work today, and I used another gross toilet despite being super dehydrated. Then we drove to another building onsite, and The Son, the driver, and a border guard who hitched the short ride with us got out, went in a building, and I think just hung out for 10 minutes because they are buddies. We just sat in the car and waited. So ridiculous and unprofessional. They finally came out with another guy who came over to the car and laughed at us and asked where we were from (a question that we hated by this point and that would enrage us beyond control by the end of our travels). 

Finally we left and drove farther into Kyrgyzstan towards Tash Rabat, with just a few stay-in-the-car checkpoints en route. Tash Rabat is an ancient (15th century) caravanserai, kind of like a country inn for travelers to rest for a night during their travels but bare and made of stone and very Game of Thrones looking. It was pretty cool to see, and we were staying in a yurt camp within walking distance. 

It was probably an hour and a half drive from the entry to Tash Rabat and I had to pee sooo badly. And it was suddenly super cold! It was such a sudden change like China had said byeee we are keeping all of our warmth from you now! But really, it’s because we were sooo high in the mountains now. Kashgar’s elevation was 1300 meters. Tash Rabat’s? 3600 METERS. I didn’t realize this until a few days later, but this was the highest elevation I’d ever been to in my life. It’s also at a level that could be dangerous for people who aren’t acclimated to it, so thank god I was okay. And I’m such a worrier that I bet if I knew in advance that this elevation could pose problems for a newbie like me, I would have for sure felt sick. Scary! So dangerous! 

The Dutch couple from the crossing was staying at our same yurt camp, and they were sticking with The Son for a country tour for the whole week, while we luckily went off with the much better NoviNomad tour company the next day. The Son was so horrendous. First of all, he didn’t have water for anyone. Luckily we brought emergency 5L jugs but jesus, what about the people you are guiding for the week? He smoked endlessly, and right in your face. He failed to answer simple questions or act in any way like he was working. Maybe he wants to get fired. He spent the afternoon and evening hanging out with his guide friends and other Kyrgyz people by a small building in the yurt camp. I went over to him at 7pm or something and walked towards the group of guides and drivers and waved to him to motion that I had a question, and he just looked away and kept chatting. Dick. I asked what time dinner was, and he said, “It’s ready.” Thanks for telling us! I said, “Ok…where should we go?” and he just nodded at a yurt and kept talking to his friends. What a dickwad. Dinner was good, in that there was food for me, and a lot of us. There was a basket of good bread, and the first course was a rice noodle salad with carrots and then the main was grilled eggplant and peppers with rice. This was the first of nearly daily plates of grilled nightshades plus every version of carb. At dinner, we were sitting next to the Dutch, his more important clients, and we all asked him if there was any celebration or anything for Kyrgyz Independence Day, which was later that week and we’d all be there for. He blinked and then just kept eating. He ignored everything. We actually met Kubat the next day in Naryn ​and he seemed very professional and good, so I think he just has to fire his son as a guide because there’s no way anyone should be stuck with him in a foreign country for more than a day. Kubat let me use his toilet and as I left I said ‘your son sucks byeeees.”

So I know you all want to hear about my first night back in a yurt camp after all these glorious months of sleeping indoors near toilets. It was cold. The toilets were 190 paces away from our yurt, and they were actually okay. Squats, but in a building of three, so like, sort of real. And there was toilet paper! They also had a set-up of those push-up sink buckets that were always filled, so it was a lot better than we’ve experienced before. Still not fun, but at least I didn’t have to pour bottled water over my hands all the time (we didn’t have enough for that!) or pee in a fly-ridden tarp. Of course, at night, it was the coldest I’d ever been (until the next night!) and that mixed with the aforementioned 190 paces meant I was quickly back to my old habits of just peeing outside the yurt in the middle of the night (even with my headlamp, it was way too dark to make it to the outhouse safely). And despite the dehydration, I had to pee 10 times that night! One time, a guy with a flashlight was apparently doing security rounds or something, not that I really believe that that’s a thing but anyway, there he was and he was coming my way so I peed as fast as I could and made it back inside before he caught me. What a tremendous time. 

The next morning, I put on all my clothes (all of them; I mostly packed for the previous three months of hot weather) and went to the food yurt for breakfast. They were all eating crepes and Kubat’s POS son forgot to tell the lady that I don’t eat milk or eggs so thanks, dickface. We left with the other driver and drove two hours to Naryn, where we had to pay Kubat, say ‘sorry for your son’, and then meet our NoviNomad guide who would show us the rest of the country over the next 8 days. Guess what – it all gets better! Stay tuned and think of me if you have to pee outside today! BUT DON’T. THAT’S FOR MONSTERS.

Warsaw is one of the most surprising cities I’ve ever visited. Usually, I am a tough critic when traveling (especially if I don’t have a bathroom or a nice bed). But I became a fan of Warsaw almost instantly and jumped right into exploration and appreciation of this important city. It’s a city of contrasts: it feels hospitable and welcoming yet still retains an air of eastern European coolness. The desire to progress and rise above its history is palpable, amid seemingly innumerable monuments to the past. You feel almost overwhelmed by all the history surrounding you, yet every building is almost brand-new. There’s a lot to understand when visiting Warsaw, and it’s a rewarding undertaking. Even though I had zero expectations (or maybe because of that), Warsaw quickly became one of my favorite places. 

We arrived on the overnight train from Kyiv very early in the morning, so our room at Dream Hostel Warsaw wasn’t going to be ready for hours. Oh and because of its location in the city center (200 meters from the Royal Castle), our car wasn’t able to get on its actual street so we had to walk a little to it in our exhausted stupor. With these two tiny obstacles beginning our trip, you can guess how pissed off I was, so that tells you a little bit about how great this city is that I was able to overcome my pissiness to such an extent. The Dream Hostel, aside from letting their other customers check out so late (i.e. not at 7am when I wanted them out), was a great place to stay. It was clean and simple and modern, with a really comfortable bed, at least in our private en suite (we are adults we do not fork with hostel dorms anymore). The location was perfect too, right in the Old Town, so I recommend it if you’re going and looking for a budget-friendly place that isn’t a straight up hole filled with loud drunk yoots. (There are yoots though; it is a hostel.)

Right outside the hostel was an outdoor exhibit on Tadeusz Kosciuszko, the Polish-Lithuanian military leader who became a hero both in Poland and in the USA. He fought in the American Revolution as a colonel of the Continental Army. He also was an architect and he designed and oversaw the construction of military fortifications such as those at West Point. When he returned to Poland after straight killing it in America, he was made the very model of a modern Major General in the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth Army, then was Supreme Commander of the Polish National Armed Forces, leading the 1794 Kosciuszko Uprising. Don’t make me type that name again. The K-dawg Uprising was against Russia, as most uprisings should be, but he was captured. Luckily, he was pardoned after a few years and thought, get me the hell out of here, I’ma go see my homies in America. And so he moved not only to the USA but to Philadelphia! Pop POP! 

We met at Zygmunt’s Column in the Old Town, one of the most famous landmarks of Warsaw that I didn’t happen to take a picture of for some reason, I think because I was cold. It’s named after King Sigismund III Vasa, the 16th century king who moved Poland’s capital from Krakow to Warsaw. I like to say his name with an aye-aye-aye in the middle. 
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This lady above was our guide in the Old Town for the first tour, and then for the World War history tour (the big long most important one) we had a young man take over. Both were very good (but the boy was my favorite) and both told us that they were newly engaged (not to each other), because every single guide in every single free walking tour we’ve ever taken, across the globe, has told us that they were newly engaged (I think as a ploy to get more tips, but like, no harm no foul, get that paper.)

But let’s start with the not-so-terrible history in the Historic Center of Warsaw. Like the above pictures, where you can see famous sayings and famous people (or characters (yes that’s Donkey from Shrek)) in various languages – including Esperanto, the language made up in the 19th century to be an international language (instead of forcing everyone to learn English). It’s not super weird to speak Esperanto here because its creator, the Polish-Jewish ophthalmologist Zamenhof (hey that’s like me I want to invent a language but not touch people’s eyes) was from Warsaw. 

We also saw Marie Curie’s house. I guess I always assumed she and everyone else with second-syllable-accented names was French, but she was Polish, born in Warsaw (as Maria), and that above is the house she grew up in. Our guide taught us so much that I didn’t know about Marie’s incredible life. I knew she was the first woman to win a Nobel Prize, the only woman to win two, and the only person to win in two different fields of science (she real smart). I did not know that she was part of an actual Curie Family Legacy – there are 5 Nobel Prizes now in her family. Her descendants are under hella pressure. The first element she discovered was named polonium after her home country. I mean it’s so obvious but I never realized it; I think I assumed it was after her favorite Hamlet character. (Uh, I think I remember Hamlet accurately.) And everyone knows she died from radiation exposure during her research in radioactivity but I didn’t know she got extra radiation from developing mobile x-ray units for field hospitals during World War I. Her extraordinary achievements could have been thwarted by the simple fact that she could not enroll in any institute of higher learning in Poland because she was a woman. She and her sister studied in Paris, after years of planning and earning enough money to do so. While Marie saved money and worked, she continued to teach herself. She also fell in love with a man who couldn’t marry her because she was poor, and although she was heartbroken, it was sort of for the best because if she did, she may have never gone to Paris or achieved what she has. Plus people said that the man who rejected her always regretted it, so she got hers. 

I also loved this story of Maly Przeglad, the newspaper written and edited by children, for children. Janusz Korczak made such a publication possible, when for 13 years in the early 20th century he ran and distributed the paper, making 50,000 copies of it every week. Meaning Little Review, Maly Przeglad was a supplement to the Nasz Przeglad, the largest Polish-language Jewish daily newspaper. Janusz said he developed this newspaper because, ​“There are children who have many great ideas, remarks, and observations, but don’t write, because they lack courage or just don’t feel like it. Our newspaper will encourage them to write. Encourage and embolden them.” I love this man.

Above is a picture of the clocktower at the Royal Castle, in Castle Square (apt) at the entrance to the Old Town. It was formerly the official residence of Polish monarchs, from the 16th century, as well as the seat of the King and Parliament. It was also the site of the writing of the Constitution of 3 May 1791, the second-oldest codified national constitution in the world after the USA’s (although I bet more respected). However, you may recall when I said in the beginning that everything in Warsaw is new. That includes this castle and everything else in the Old Town, which was destroyed by the Nazis during World War II. Here is a picture of the same site during the devastation, and one from beforehand, which was used later in the rebuilding process. 

In 1939, following the invasion of Poland, Nazis burned and looted the Castle. But it would be almost completely destroyed a few years later, along with the rest of Warsaw, after the Warsaw Ghetto Uprising in 1943 and the subsequent Warsaw Uprising in 1944. After WWII, more than 80% of the city would be demolished and almost all of Warsaw’s 300,000 Jewish residents (making it the largest Jewish city in Europe) would be dead. 

So I guess we’ve reached that point where we have to talk about it all. As I said, Warsaw was the biggest Jewish city in Europe pre-war, with around 300,000 Jews. Before WWII, Jews were thriving in Warsaw, with the majority living in the city center and commercial districts. Many left Warsaw during the depression, which was worse in Poland than the rest of Europe, but even so the population remained high. When the Siege of Warsaw occurred in 1939, German planes bombed Warsaw, killing tens of thousands of people and destroying 10% of the city. After this, the number of Jews in Warsaw actually increased, because there were so many refugees fleeing from the Polish-German front. Soon after the Siege ended, Hitler established the General Government in Poland and the Jewish Council in Warsaw, which would let the Nazis start carrying out their atrocities against the Polish people. First was Jewish forced labor, to clean up after the bombings. Then all the bank accounts of Polish Jews were blocked, followed by the required display of Jewish star on all Jewish shops. Then came the required armbands, and then the ban from public transit, and then the prohibition on communal prayer. 

In the fall of 1940, the Nazis, now running Poland, established the Warsaw Ghetto, which would become the largest Ghetto in Europe. They ordered construction of the Ghetto walls around the predominantly Jewish area. Non-Jews (referred to as ‘ethnic Poles’, but like Jews still can be that, asswipes) were removed from this area while Jews from the suburbs were brought into it. The walls, closing the inhabitants off from the outside world, were 3 meters high, with barbed wire on top, and anyone trying to escape was shot. More than 400,000 (some reports say 450,000) Jews were imprisoned in the ghetto, which was only a little over one square mile. People were packed into rooms, with little if any food, prohibited from freely traveling in their own city. There were typhus epidemics in the dirty, close quarters. There was starvation – the rations started at 180 calories per person per day and decreased with time. The vast majority of food in the Ghetto was smuggled in.

From the Ghetto, Jews were deported to concentration camps for either forced labor or extermination. More than 250,000 Jews were sent from the Ghetto to Treblinka in the summer of 1942 for extermination. Most of the remaining Jews in the Ghetto died from shootings, gassing, illness, and starvation. By the end of 1942, the Jews in the Ghetto realized that the deportations meant death, and that the transport for ‘resettlement’ was really leading Jews to mass killings. They decided to resist by smuggling in weapons. In January 1943, the Nazis entered the Ghetto to round up more Jews for transport, but they met resistance from some armed Jews. Still, 600 Jews were shot and 5,000 were removed (of the planned 8,000). But now the Warsaw Ghetto Uprising was starting, the largest revolt by Jews in WWII. Adults and children were ready to fight, although with their limited supplies and arms against the German forces, they knew at this point it was more a fight for honor rather than survival.

​The resistance organizations, the ZZW and ZOB, gained control of the Ghetto and executed Nazi collaborators and traitors, like the Jewish Police officers. The head of the Jewish Ghetto Police committed suicide. By Passover, the police and SS forces entered the Ghetto to complete deportations, but the Jewish fighters held them back. The SS officers started burning down houses block by block to force a surrender, but the fighting continued for almost a month.
 
While this fighting occurred inside the walls, outside the walls the Germans were attacked at various points by Polish resistance groups. However, the numbers of fighters in and outside the Ghetto kept falling, and eventually there was no organized defense left, just survivors who hid in the sewers and dugouts referred to as bunkers.
 
The Nazis searched out these hiding places and would smoke or flood the inhabitants out, or just use explosives on the area. One of these dugouts was the infamous Mila 18, with approximately 300 people inside, including smugglers and ZOB commanding officers. The smugglers surrendered to the Nazis, but the ZOB command refused to move. The Nazis threw tear gas down into the bunker, and a few people managed to escape uncaught, but the rest committed mass suicide by ingesting cyanide instead of surrendering to the Nazis.

The Uprising ended on May 16, 1943, when the Nazis demolished the Great Synagogue of Warsaw in a symbolic fuck you to humanity, although I am surprised it wasn’t demolished at the start of things. 13,000 Jews died in the Uprising, and most of the remaining 50,000 (remember we started with 450,000) were captured and sent to camps, mainly Treblinka. ​

At this point in the tour, an (white female (always) (dammit)) American woman asked the tour guide “Why didn’t the Jews just fight back when this all started??” All the decent people gave her side eye and the guide explained that the events didn’t just jump from zero to murder in a day. The oppressors, like all oppressors, started small, with sacrifices you couldn’t really risk everything fighting against when it seemed like something you could live with. Then the oppressors would add something else to the mix, and the same question is asked of you: is this the breaking point, or will it be okay? Most people think things will be okay for them, that things couldn’t get too out of hand in modern society. But soon you’re faced with a pile of small atrocities stacked on top of each other and the stack leads to complete injustice and horror, and by that point it’s too late to do much. We visited Warsaw many months ago, and even then I was shocked that the lady didn’t realize that the same thing was happening in the USA. I wonder if she can see today how ignorant she sounded, or if she realizes that we’ve reached the point she was talking about, when people should be fighting back. Every day, the leaders of American chip away at the rights of citizens and innocent people, and they degrade our institutions so much that our checks and balances are now a joke, a joke that for the most part they are in control of. But aside from trying to fight back civilly (in the courts, with fundraising, with calling offices), no one is rioting in the streets or risking their lives to fight it. We excuse it day by day as something we can live with, something that we will change when decent people are back in power. But look at what the incremental nature of these injustices has led to. There are literally babies being snatched from their families and locked up in cages. And we are not rioting in the streets for them. Is this the point when we should be? If we don’t, will it be too late to fight against what happens next? I am scared of what will happen next as I’m sure all decent people who aren’t morally bankrupt are, but I’m also scared of what’s happening now and what’s already happened. We’re supposed to study history in order to learn from it and not repeat the mistakes of the past, but that’s hard to do when people who want to repeat history are in charge.

Ok let’s get back to Warsaw’s history before we all get back to crying, donating, crying, screaming, and not knowing what else to do. The Warsaw Ghetto Uprising of 1943 happened over a year before the Warsaw Uprising of 1944, the general revolt in the ‘main’ part of the city. The Warsaw Uprising of 1944 was part of a nationwide plan from the Polish underground resistance, led by the Home Army (the dominant Polish resistance movement), to liberate Warsaw from the Nazis. The fighting lasted more than two months, with no outside help, to be the largest military effort by any European resistance in WWII. The timing of the Uprising coincided with the retreat of German forces from Poland head of the Soviet advance, but when the Soviets approached the city, they halted temporarily and ignored Polish radio contact instead of charging into the city. Also, there was a Soviet base a few minutes away from the city, but they never provided air support. All of this led to allegations that Stalin halted his forces on purpose to let the resistance fail and be crushed.

​Churchill pleaded with Stalin and FDR to help the Polish allies, but they refused. Without obtaining Soviet air clearance, Churchill sent more than 200 supply drops in the Warsaw Airlift. Finally America did a thing and sent one mass airdrop after getting Soviet air clearance. However, it was too little too late, and the Soviet halt gave the Germans the ability to regroup and defeat the resistance. So just another lesson from history that you cannot trust the Russians. In fact, Stalin found the Home Army’s resistance so ‘inconvenient’ to his plans that their name was censored in the post-war period and he twisted the facts through propaganda in the Soviet-controlled People’s Republic of Poland. 

Approximately 16,000 Polish resistance fighters were killed in the Uprising, and between 150,000 and 200,000 Polish civilians died mainly from mass executions. In the city, about 25% of Warsaw was destroyed, but after the Poles surrendered, Germans razed the vast majority of the remainder of the city as a final lesson. 

​After the war, Polish citizens led a five-year reconstruction campaign to restore the Old Town of Warsaw, a restoration so meticulous that the entire new centre is a UNESCO World Heritage site. They used old paintings and photographs to ensure that the reconstruction got much of the city’s rich architectural heritage correct, and its thanks to that campaign that Warsaw looks as historic as it does. 

Today, Warsaw’s historic center is gorgeous, filled with lovely colors and important buildings, belying a history that left it completely destroyed. 

​The Warsaw Mermaid is an important symbol of the city, featured on its coat of arms. There are several legends about the mermaid, and the official City legend says that she decided to stay in Warsaw after coming upon the riverbank near the Old Town. Fishermen noticed that there was something making waves, tangling their nets, and releasing their fish (yas queen). The fishermen were going to trap the mermaid, but then she started singing and they fell in love, as you do. But a rich merchant (always bad) trapped the mermaid and imprisoned her. She cried, and when the fishermen heard her cried they rescued her. In return, the mermaid has been armed with a sword and a shield so she is ready to help protect the city and its lovely residents. Other versions of this story say that the Warsaw Mermaid is the sister of the Copenhagen Mermaid (the Little Mermaid). Could be true considering the Copenhagen/Little one had all those sisters. This statute stands in the Old Town Square. 

So yes, when you go to Warsaw you have to take this walking tour and learn about the history. You can’t just go and enjoy the insane vegan food (next post) and not pay your respects to its past.  It’s so important to learn and remember what happened here, and with any luck learn from it.