January 19, 2023
Amelie the Musical Never Captures the Right Tone (or Tunes)by Randi / December 10, 2019come with meeee and you’ll beeeee in a wooooorld of chocolate shops and bridges
HOT DAMN Bruges is adorabullllll. I finally went to this charming lil baby city in Belgium recently and I gotta say, just based on the human-to-chocolate-shop ratio alone, it’s one of my favorite places. The scenery is pretty great too, and other people would rave about the beer, the food (though not the vegan food – you must do research and know where to go), the beer, the quaint old-timey vibe, the beer, and the delightful ease of a visit. I am mostly enamored of the chocolate. OH and the cone-shaped fruit candy too. See I have more than one interest. At this time of year, the Christmas markets are all over Belgium, and while Bruges’s didn’t have anything of particular interest for me, it was still a pretty sight, not that the town needed any help in that department.
We were supposed to go to Bruges this past summer for the bank holiday weekend, but we had to reschedule because of TINGS, I tell ya, TINGS. Honestly, it was fine that we had one less day to spend. I’m not saying more time wouldn’t be nice here, but having all of Saturday, one night, and then Sunday morning was plenty for seeing the highlights and getting a feel for the town. Also it was suuupes crowded. I think it’s always full of tourists, but now that it’s Christmas-market season, it’s packed. (Doesn’t detract from its loveliness! You got nowhere to go!) We’re usually go-go-go travelers, so I think it worked out that we had less time since this is the opposite of a go-go-go place.
Our first stop once we arrived was, naturally, THE BLOOD OF CHRIST CHURCH. This place is seriously called Procession of the Holy Blood, because apparently the blood of Christ is in a vial and you walk by it one by one with a guard watching. Considering all the vials of blood I’ve seen, this one definitely ranks high and isn’t going to come back telling me I have another auto-immune disorder, so.
There’s actually a line-guard to make sure everyone stays in line orderly and like doesn’t make a fuss, don’t make a fuss, and then there’s a lady standing with the vial at the top of the altar/stage and you say ‘hi’ and ‘thanks I guess’ to her as you look at the ancient glass vial. Since you cannot take photos of the blood of Christ (it’s like a vampire it can’t have its essence captured), I’ll splain: it is a very ancient glass vial covered with gems and crusted over with…well I guess with the holy spirit?
It’s 2.50 euro for the museum inside the blood church, but it’s free to see the blood vial in the church. Not sure what’s in the museum part, probably like information on where the blood came from and all that lore which you will not get from me.
(the song is called “Charming”)
After we saw the blood of Christ, we went to see him as a lil baby with his mama at the Church of Our Lady, or the Onze-Lieve-Vrouwekerk if you nasty. This church/museum houses the famous Michelangelo sculpture Madonna of Bruges, which depicts the Virgin Mary and her magical baby. It’s a lovely sculpture, but the whole alcove it stands in is currently under construction. Thankfully, the museum knew that visitors were coming just for that so there is a hole in the scaffolding so you can still see it.
I’m not sharing a great picture (we do have some of them) because GREAT ART can only be APPRECIATED in PERSON ask Bette Midler
The best thing is the information on the wall for this piece. It begins “Contrary to the habits early in the sixteenth century, Our Lady does not look tender and sweet here, but rather glum and sad. She thinks deeply and expresses the fear that her large and naked child will soon run away.” LARGE AND NAKED CHILD. I sent this to Rob Delaney obviously, the king of large and naked children.
So that’s the main thing in the Onke museum, but there are other treats that make it worth the ticket price (which I just checked and it was only 4 euro so go nuts). Across from the sculpture, there’s a painting that made us go ‘huh, that looks like a Caravaggio’ (and by ‘us’ I mean ‘husbo’ because I am just like ‘oh art’) and it WAS! And also was not. Facts: This painting, The Disciples at Emmaus, was long attributed to Caravaggio because, as husbo can attest to, it looks like his work. However, experts now believe it’s the work of Hendrik Ter Brugghen in the style of Caravaggio; he liked to copy him. Fun fact we learned, Caravaggio’s first name was Michelangelo too! He must have been pissed!
(Oh dear, upon further investigation it looks like Caravaggio was not his last name but the town he grew up in??? and it’s a ‘da Caravaggio’ situation like ‘da Vinci’ which ISN’T LEONARDO’S LAST NAME it means FROM VINCI and oh my god I really really hope Michelangelo Merisi is okay with everyone referring to him by the name of his town ahhhh.) (Okay upon even further investigation it appears Caravaggio was a murderer? so call him what you want.)
Here’s a scenery interlude for making it through the museum bits.
As you can see, taking little boat rides around the canals is a Big Thing, though no one sings (however, they do use an intense microphone setup that we could hear in our hotel room; luckily they stop tours at night). I decided not to join in the fun though, because I guess I hate fun. No I think I had good reasons: a) it was cold to be stuck in a boat b) I get seasick (okay man it’s not ‘the sea’ but you never know) and c) the best pictures are of the boats on the canals, not from the boats.
How about a quick look at the Christmas market? Just a quick one because it was pretty meh for me. In the main square, there were the familiar wooden stalls of European winter markets with the familiar wares: fried meats and fish and fries, alcohol, more non-vegan food, touristy gifts that put “Bruges” on magnets and towels and shirts and ornaments &c., and more alcohol. It was pretty-ish, but overrun with drunk men who had no idea whose space they were intruding into so we peaced rather quickly.
I mean I’m not going to share pictures of meat stalls (which was all the food, except for the cheese) and bar stalls so there’s really nothing left except woollen socks and ornamenti. The belfry looks great though; maybe we should climb that later.
Here’s the best thing we saw:
No not you lady, I don’t even know you
Before, between, and after the sights we visited, we bought chocolate. We bought a lot of chocolate, and sadly, even though it has been like a week, I’m out. My favorite shop was La Belgique Gourmande, because the staff was helpful AND they didn’t even have to be – their bowls of various chocolates were really well marked with all allergens!!! Eeee! I love a good labeling system!
The funniest thing was that, by our second day in Belgium, we learned that this is pretty much the most popular chain of chocolate shoppes in the whole damn country and we were treating it like a tiny little artisan find, HILARIOUS. Who cares, I love that they have more of these in Brussels (next post) than Starbucks in NYC. We shopped at three of them.
Below you can see the best chocolate they make that I should have gotten 100 pieces of instead of 100 grams. It’s like Ferrero Rocher with an amazing hazelnut butter filling but there’s no dairy! You can see on the tag their allergen legend, which shows that this contains nuts and soy, and NOO DAIRY! woot! I love them for this guidance! I love labels. Except for people, obvs.
We also bought some-but-not-enough of the famous Belgian fruit candy called cuberdons, which is like little cone-shaped pate de fruits and they are really good! They are also accidentally vegan so go nuts! Although I’d avoid the cherry because it tasted like medicine. We learned that these famous candies are only really found in Belgium because they don’t last long enough to export; the quality would suffer and people would be like ‘these aren’t so great’ instead of like ‘moar pleeeease.’
Alright, time for another sightseeing adventure before we get to the food. On Sunday morning, before we left Bruges for Brussels, we planned to climb the belfry in the main square. It’s one of the city’s most prominent landmarks, and is heavily responsible for the historic centre of Bruges attaining UNESCO world heritage status. The bell tower was built in 1240 but rebuilt after a fire in 1280…which is still super super old. There were several fires over the years, including one that wiped out the spire that was never rebuilt, so the tower today is shorter than it once was.
Here it is at night, GORGE.
And here in the daytime:
Unfortunately, the day we climbed it – the only slot we had available – was foggy mcfoggerton senior. Visibility was like, maybe three inches in front of you. Once you got a foot off the ground NOPE couldn’t see shite. Even the ticket man was like ‘are you sure you want to climb today…’ and we were like ‘no but we have no choice.’ We had to climb the thing, because we climb things (except ice mountains) so it had to be during the fog.
Kind of hilarious! It reminded us of our INCREDIBLE (as in cannot believe it) experience in Huangshan, when we climbed all day up a mountain in China and saw literally nothing. We had fun though; we do like climbing towers, and it’s good exercise (more on that below) (I mean sort of, like 2 words).
Alright, y’all bitches made it. It’s time for the vegan food. So, the food in Belgium is not surprisingly not the greatest for vegans, unless you like living on frites (that means fries), which I do not, because – hot take alert – fries aren’t that great. The HappyCow app is indispensable for Bruges, alerting us to the vegetarian restaurants or at least the veg-friendly ones. We only had two meals in Bruges but we had experiences (run-ins) with a few restaurants.
First, I took advice from HappyCow reviews and went to Brasserie Forestiere restaurant for lunch, a slightly upscale (meaning, expensive (as all of Bruges is) and doesn’t do tap water oof) cafe that promised to know what vegan meant and in fact has a tofu wrap on the menu. It was fine, they definitely do and that’s definitely true, but it was mostly soy sauce and a lot bell peppers, which I don’t like, so if I knew better I would have chosen the falafel place ‘t Brugs Pitahuis (I get the pitahouse part and I guess I can accept Brugs but I do NOT get the ‘t business (I understand that it’s their abbreviation for the word for ‘the’ but still it’s difficult for me)). But then again, I do get falafel all the time since I live next to a Pilpel (best falafel in London alert) so I’m not mad. I’m especially not mad because the pile of peppers came with a side salad AND a scoop of avocado/guacamole (best not to ask), and you know how much I love a surprise salad. And salad in general. Why do I love salad so much? Hot tip: mix the whole avo scoop into the wrap and everything is better.
Anyway, it was decent and incredibly filling, but a wrap it was not. A wrap has LITERALLY one requirement:
And this clearly failed that. I wouldn’t call this cornucopia of onions and peppers spilling out of an open shell a wrap. Of course I did try to pick it up and eat it as intended, which was forking hilarious (it did not work).
If you’re into that sort of thing, you’ll pass the Frites Museum on the walk back from Forestiere to the main square. Yes, it’s an entire museum dedicated to fries. No, we did not go but knock yourself out.
For our one dinner in town, we were eager to try the all-vegetarian restaurant Des Plaats. However, the guy who greeted us was kind of a dick. Fun fact that we did not know: You cannot eat dinner in Bruges without a reservation. And I don’t just mean at this little dick boy’s restaurant; I mean everywhere. We were turned away from several places that were ‘fully booked’ even though they were absolutely empty at the time. Bruges just WILL NOT FEED YOU without a reservation, which okay, I understand, it’s crowded, but we didn’t know. Except instead of just saying ‘no, we’re fully booked sorry’, the Des Plaats bellend was like supes rude, unnecessarily. Fork his boring plaats anyway.
Luckily, one restaurant remained to check out, one I’m not sure why we didn’t go to first since it’s entirely vegan: de Brugsche Tafel, a small family-run restaurant that has a small but solid menu and two adorable kids helping their parents out. I wanted to hug them I was so happy they agreed to feed us. It was great, too, and we were happy to support a family.
We read a lot of good reviews about the ramen, but they had two specials that sounded good: the mushroom palak with basmati rice, and vegetables in vindaloo sauce, so both Indian-esque dishes. To fit super well with that theme, we got bruschetta to start (I’m funny). The bruschetta was on regular sliced bread, which is funny, but toasted, so it all worked out. It was one the garlickiest foods I’ve ever eaten and I FORKING LOVED it. Husbo, who is less garlic-oriented, said it was almost too garlicky, but I, a person with eye-tal blood who has garlic coming through her pores at most times, do not think so.
The mains were great; I think the mushroom palak is the winner but overall everything was, as the Brits say about food which I just do not understand but I guess I have to now, ‘nice.’ A weird thing we both noticed was that they didn’t use any beans, tofu, seitan, &c. Usually we see this lack of protein sources at restaurants that aren’t vegan, especially if they’re trying fancy tasting menus, but not at all vegan places, so that was quite odd.
The best part about de Brugsche Tafel (aside from the hospitality, the ability to feed us without buying into the Bruges Booking Malarkey, the family-helping jawn, and the fact that every once in a while we’d see the tiny little girl child climb CLIMB up onto chairs to remove empty dishes from other tables and it was hilarious and adorable) is that THEY HAVE VEGAN BELGIAN WAFFLES.
Baby’s first vegan Belgian waffle! Granted it’s my first time being back in Belgium since being vegan but still, wowee! I remember when I was first in Brussels, I guess 15 years ago, and I had a street waffle with maybe speculoos? and it was great obvs but this was EXCELLENT. The waffle part was so amazing it didn’t even need the chocolate sauce (but I wanted it). They are 4 euro and this little carton was the to-go container but whatever I ate it as soon as we got outside and it was magical.
As for our lodging, that was a bit of a predicament. Very, very few hotels in Bruges will let you book for just one night. The place we were going to stay in in August was going to be for two nights, so they wouldn’t let us change it to one. (Well, then they said ‘for you, we will make an exception!’ and offered a one-night rate…at the price of two nights. Cool guys.) Luckily, we found the adorable restaurant and inn Hotel Duc de Bourgogne. It’s right on the canal, super quaint and old-fashioned and perfect for the broogie vibe. The old-fashionedness means there weren’t enough outlets, and I wish each room could control its own heating, but there were no real problems on those fronts. The staff was super nice and accommodating.
The hotel/restaurant is the white building on this canal. One of those windows was ours!
Aside from the loveliness and the chocolate, the best part about Bruges is the dog-human ratio. EVERYONE WHO LIVES THERE HAS A DOG. We saw so many adorbsy puppos my head almost sploded. I took lots of pics (more in my instagram stories, Bruges highlight) but here are my best friends I made:
Ok bye babies!
Related Posts
Warsaw, Poland: Beautiful and Welcoming City with a Tragic Past
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.
Cloudy and cool – appropriate weather for the walking tour of mournful history
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!
Proof of this dude’s opposite trajectory to mine
The Dream Hostel staff directed our attention to what is my #1 activity tip for Warsaw – the free city walking tour, from freewalkingtour.com. Free walking tours are my favorite thing to find in any city, as they are always incredibly informative and entertaining. But Warsaw’s (actually called the Free WALKATIVE Tour because they’re adorable I guess) were my favorite ever. That’s right, we took two – the general history/Old Town one (very good) and one specifically about the war and the ghetto and everything, which was extra long (2 1/2 hours I think). This latter one was spectacular, I think because our incredible guide packed so much important history into our tour and treated all of its history, good and tragic, with reverence and consideration, so it felt properly serious. And soul-crushing. Most of Warsaw’s prominent history is grim, so you have to be really ready to dive in.
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.
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.)
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.)
My favorite tour guide ever! He said Warsaw so cute
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.
Metal map of Warsaw
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.
A section of the Mur Getta, or Ghetto Wall
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.
Marking the boundaries of the Ghetto area today
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.
This is called the Kotwica, the emblem of the Polish Underground State and the Home Army (which we talk about below). It was the symbol for Polish struggle to regain independence. The symbol comes from the initials P and W, from the phrase “Pomscimy Wawer” – We Shall Avenge Wawer. Wawer was a massacre in 1939, one of the first large-scale massacres of Polish civilians by German troops.
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.
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 site of Mila 18. It felt too strange to take a picture, so instead of deciding whether it was appropriate or not I took a half-picture.
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.
Warsaw’s Palace of Justice today (the courts)
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.
Monument to the fighters of the Warsaw Uprising
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.
Monument to the Heroes of Warsaw, also known as the Warsaw Nike for obvious reasons
Pomnik Bohaterow Getta, the monument to the Warsaw Ghetto Uprising. Right outside the Jewish Museum.
Monument at the Ghetto walls
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.
Muscat Susie, Muscat Sam: Oh Man, Did We Enjoy Oman
Oman wasn’t on our list for very long – in fact, it might be the fastest we’ve ever decided to go somewhere and then gone. Last year we heard several unrelated wonderful reports about this gem of a country in the Middle East and then suddenly, we were off! (And I was going to be so close to Chandler next door in Yemen, living it up with that rando he met on the plane and/or at 15 Yemen Road.) Between the charming little city of Muscat and the incredible wadis (like my favorite place, Wadi Shab) and sinkholes we swam in around the country, we had a fabulous time. Whether you’re an explorer, a history buff, a water-feature-lover (me), or just in the mood for a super fancy resort vacation (but don’t only stay in the resort), I highly recommend a visit to Oman.
You will definitely need to rent a car, which sucks for people like me who hate driving, especially in foreign lands where you don’t read the language. So, after our super pleasant and short flight from Dubai (which you read about last week, right?) on Swiss Air (which was outfitted like an old professor; I don’t know something about the light wooden detail and the tweed vibe on that plane read ‘professor’), we landed at Muscat International Airport SUPER late at night and SUPER needing to do two specific things: 1) get a SIM card for the phone, and 2) pick up our rental car. You’d think these would be simple since they are most everyone’s 2 things to do! Both the SIM and the Budget rental car people were the. worst. ever. So rude and they took forever so we were well into the wee hours of the morning before we were on our way to the hotel. And that wasn’t even the worst part: I had a full panic attack driving to the hotel because I am the navigatrix, and Google maps had NO IDEA ABOUT MUSCAT. Just never heard about it, I guess. So I was flipping, and I mean flipping, out because I had no idea what to tell Z to do and we kept getting farther away from the city center and we don’t read Arabic so it was terrifying.
Finally somehow we found our hotel. (If you’re driving, print out directions from the airport just in case your maps app also decides it needs 24 hours to start working properly.) During our time exploring, we stayed at the Intercontinental Muscat, which sounds fance because the IC usually is, but this was (known in advance to be) a quite dingy one, with motel-looking rooms. It was more affordable this way, and it was undergoing an extensive remodel while we were there, so while we were lucky to snag the lower prices, we missed out on the nicer rooms. But since we were going to be busy sightseeing (and driving around the country) all day, we didn’t need to be anywhere fancy. No, we were saving that for the second half of our trip, which you’ll see in the next Oman post.
After sleeping, omg sleeping is THE BEST, we explored Muscat the next morning, first by making our way up to the fort area at the north of the city. It’s like a bunch of forts and government buildings and noooo one around, which was cool for exploring and…interesting for my usual fear of “has the world I Am Legended or something?”
Muscat curves along the water (the Gulf of Oman) with various corniches lined with mosques, souks, and cafes (and banks and all other markings of civilization, except we don’t have Habib Bank which is a shame because it’s so close to my favorite thing to shout (HABIBI!) and if there was a Habibi bank I’d be like here take my money). What I consider the main drag of the waterfront, along Al Bahri Road, is right where Mutrah Souk and the Gold Souk are located.
You have to pay to park along the corniche, and while there are plenty of spots, it’s kind of annoying because it’s those newfangled machines (I hate MACHINES) and they only take 50p coins (I know it’s ‘p’ but I don’t know their abbreviations for the smaller denominations) so you have to go buy a tea or something in a nearby cafe and ask for change in 50p coins. But now you know so you can just make sure to have them handy! Who says you don’t learn from me?
I guess this is as good a time as any to share some DEETS about their currency in Oman. It’s the Omani rial! One rial breaks into 1000 baisa, so when I said 50p coins you (like me originally) probably brained that as ‘half their dollar or whatever’, but it’s not half, it’s 1/20!!!! That’s rial small! I hope I did that math right otherwise I’ll be rially embarrassed. One rial is about $2.6 USD, so 10 rials is like $26 and you can generally figure out whether most things are cheap or pricey knowing that. As a destination, it’s cheaper than most of Western Europe, but more expensive than I assumed. You can find super cheap food and stuff but overall it’s much less of a post-Dubai steal than I wanted.
Before or after exploring the coastline and the souks, you’ll want to hit the main cultural museum to learn about Oman and Omani culture. That’s why you’re here! The very nice and informative museum is called the Bait Al Zubair, opened to the public since 1998. Comprising six different buildings and lots of outdoor space, the museum features exhibits on Omani culture and heritage in terms of dress, jewelry, weapons, food, history, furniture, money, housing, and more, including two big ass cannons.
We learned all sorts of info from the museum, but honestly the most compelling info-graphic was about the first postal stamp. Whoever wrote the sign explaining how Britain issued the first government-printed postage stamp on May 6, 1840 was INTO the history of stamps. They honestly sounded like a nerdier version of me, using all caps and everything to make a point! I KNOW! In a museum! It was adorbs. They were like ‘before 1840 the RECEIVER of the letter had to pay for the costs of delivery, but then Mister Sir Rowland Hill became British Postmaster General and he thought the SENDER should pay the price and that was the first time this happened aren’t stamps EXHILARATING?’ no but it’s a good change, Rowland. Could you imagine having to pay for the shitty mail you get? I’d be like hard pass.
Maybe you want to learn about Muscat and not the history of stamps in the U.K. So that means it’s time for our favorite Laughfrodisiac travel feature, your completely accurate history lesson.
So Oman is a Sultanate, along with Brunei and parts of Indonesia and Malaysia, which makes it baby’s first Sultanate visited! I did not see that pudgy little doofus who let Jafar manipulate him, no I did not, I would have given him a talking to. A talking down to, if you will, because I’m still mad at his initial treatment of his daughter and also because he so smol. (I’m OBVIOUSLY joking, Omani officials, and would never speak ill of your actual sultan who is also prime minister? It’s an absolute monarchy over there. (that’s the actual phrase I’m not saying like oh it’s an absolute monarchy; no it’s an ‘absolute monarchy’ it’s a thing.)) My fave thing is that there’s no clear answer about where the name came from (probably someone just saying ‘oh mannn’ like I did) but some think it’s related to writing from Pliny the Elder, which tickles me because I forking LOVE Pliny the Elder, one of my fave elders.
Muscat is Oman’s capital and largest city, and archaeological finds (fishermen graves, so sinister) date the city, an important port, as having communities since 6,000 years before Jesus was like ‘oh hayyyy oh you don’t care about me.’ And then pre-Iranians invaded dun dun dunnn and then they all converted to Islam and then there were all these battles between different tribes and then Marcos Baghdatis’s people invaded (not Cyprus, Baghdad…I see how this gets confusing but stick with me) but then Omani tribes were like gtfO Marcos, it’s Wimbledon time, and then power shifted between native tribes for a bit and all this time the importance of Muscat as a port city between powerful civilizations grew and grew, causing some animosity from people not by the city/water, like how England hates Londoners because we’re the most important.
But then in the 1500s the Portuguese were like ‘o bom dia I’ma gonna takeover you nowah’ (the Portuguese sounded Italian!) and they fought but the Portuguese won and they were like ‘Muito prazer em conhecê-lo but I’ma burna your city to the groundah!’ and they did. They ruled till later in the 1600s when the Imam was finally like FORK THIS and sent troops to Muscat and toppled the power of the Portos. Then there were civil wars which are NEVER good and the Persians kept interfering and trying to take over like ‘oh but itsa my turn to ah rule you!’ (they sound Italian too) but they even though they didn’t get the chance they still contributed to the whole region being destabilized which is rude. The need for cohesive rule let the Al Bu Sa’id dynasty emerge and rule ever since, but not without lots of dramaaaz like even in the last century there was a civil war, from friction between the sultan and the imams and all the interior tribes being like what gives and the sultan asked the British to help quell the rebels (they’re good at that, and stamps), and then the sultan’s son, current ruler Qaboos bin Said al Said, famously staged a bloodless coup to take the seat of power from his father, with the help of the British. It was a very William vs. Charles in the play King Charles III situation.
Well that’s enough history for lunatics so let’s go to one of Qaboos’s favorite places, the mosque. How do I know it’s one of his favorite places? It’s called the Sultan Qaboos Grand Mosque. Construction of the mosque took six years seven months in the 1990s, which is fun because the American version, Six Days Seven Nights, also took place in the 1990s.
It’s an incredibly beautiful, tranquil place, despite having so many tourists visiting – it’s so big that you’re not even bothered by other people (ew other people). Civilians like me (non-Muslims) are allowed to visit the Grand Mosque in the mornings from Saturday to Thursday, so make sure to plan accordingly. You must cover all your damn skin, which you should do in the serious sunshine anyway, but women must also cover their hair. And they are serious about this. I had the pictured headscarf dutifully wrapping me up, but I have hella long and unmanageable hair, and a lock of it fell through the bottom at the back, and a guard yelled at Z to tell me to fix it. (Obviously he spoke to Z and not me, because the man is in charge of the women, because religion.) The language barrier made for a fun exercise in ‘but my hair is covered!’ arguments, not being able to see that a tiny piece was visible on my back. Stupid sinful lady hair!
Aside from mean old guard, it was a really lovely visit. It’s confusing to know where to park and where to enter properly, but we just followed other people from the first parking lot we found and figured it out.
Aside from food-related activities and hotel swimming, which come in their own post (the fun one with the previously hinted resort vacation), that’s pretty much what we did in Muscat! From our base in the city, we took several day trips out into the country, to various sinkholes for more swimming (yay!), to Wadi Shab (my FAVORITE part of this trip (you’ll see that in its own post, with the sinkholes)), and to Nizwa, for the Nizwa Fort and Souqs. Although we enjoyed Nizwa Fort, it was a long way to go (about 2 hours each way) on really busy roads, when we could have used that time to see a lot more educational stuff left in Muscat. I’d only recommend going if you’re heading out of Muscat to stay in another town, or if you have a ton of time.
Even though we admit we probably should have used this day better, it was nice to see the Nizwa Fort. It was built in the 1600s by the Imam Sultan (both things!) Bin Saif Al Ya’rubi, but the underlying structure of this gigantic fort dates back to the 1200s. It’s really architecturally impressive, with a giant drum tower, enormous underground foundations, and endless sections and rooms on different levels showcasing all the good stuff you normally find in defensive structures: battlements, turrets, cannons, food storage, housing, jails, and literally MURDER HOLES: if the windy stairs and secret passages and defensive attacks weren’t enough to impede enemies, there were shafts above each set of doors that people poured boiling oil or water through to stop them. Murder holes. Cool guys. Can’t you just hear Mindy St. Clair going “I call it my murder hole.”
Entry to the Nizwa Fort cost us 5 rial each, so like almost $30 for the both of us, which is LOADS more than any other tourist attraction in Oman cost us. So that kind of bothered us, even though this was cool.
It was a super hot and sunny day when we visited, which was rough because so much of it is outside in the blazing heat and it’s SO climby. As I said before, the various sections are on all different levels, which means lots of stairs. And just when you think you’ve gotten as high as you can possibly go, to the top section, you’re met with these stairs:
Sure they just go up and then down again, but there’s a VIEW UP THERE. We had to do it! Fun fact: There were four sets of these triangle staircases around this tower, and we climbed up and down each one, to capture all the different views.
The Nizwa Fort did have the g-d coolest bathroom signs I’ve ever seen in my life, so that’s something. Look what the men got, it’s so badass.
Afte the fort, we planned to visit the famous souqs, but they were closed! It’s okay though, we weren’t going to buy vegetables, although it was nice to see where my fave souq would have been.
So we had some fun learning about Muscat and Oman, and the posts to come will be about even more fun stuff! Stay tuned.
