An afternoon at the Wieliczka Salt Mine.
From Birkenau it takes an hour and a half to get to reach the Wieliczka salt mine. Sodium chloride has been produced here from Neolithic times, initially from the upwelling brine.
Excavations of the mine date from the 13th century, and table salt had been produced continuously until 1996, when falling prices and mine flooding lead to the discontinuation of commercial mining. It’s now an official Polish Historical Monument and UNESCO world heritage site. Within are contained chapels and statues carved out fo the rock salt, an underground lake, and countless passageways and shafts.
We’re early for our entry and our guide gives us almost half an hour to wander before we need to meet him for entry. There’s a restaurant and a cafe and various shops selling souvenirs. I debate buying an ice cream but decide to wait so that I can buy something better when we’re back in Krakow.
At the appointed time we collect back around the guide who takes us in through the main entrance. We’re met by Matthew who will be our guide in the mine. We descend and as we begin he shows us a wall of salt. He tells us we can lick it if we want. The joke being that the wall used to be flat but now it’s concave.
He wouldn’t actually recommend licking it, however, since thousands of visitors a week might give it a go. No one tries to that I can see.
We walk through passageways reinforced by thick wooden beams, careful to close one set of doors before opening another for the changes in pressure or for how it could create wind tunnels. I’m surprised at how little the construction seems to have changed in the years since mining technology and processes had been invented.
We enter the Janowice Chamber, 101 meters under the earth, with its salt statues of the Hungarian princess Kinga. Legend has it that her engagement ring was rediscovered in Wieliczka and returned to her after she had cast it into the Aknaszlatina salt mine, carried along with salt deposits.
She married Bolesław V reluctantly and became a pricness when he became teh High Duke of Poland. During her reign she became involved in charitable works and when her husband died in 1279 she sold all her material posessions and gave her money to the poor. She was canonized in 1999 by Pope John Paul II.
Sculptures in another chamber celebrate the dangerous work of the miners. One role had miners carry torches into the mines to test for dangerous gases within the mines, crawling on their bellies with flames aloft.
Further along we enter The Chapel of St. Kinga, a large Roman Catholic church carved out of the salt. Satutes, bas reliefs, altars, chapels and chandeliers are all carved out of salt. My mind casts back to Colombia and the Salt Cathedral of Zipaquirá amazed that there are at least two houses of worship that have been carved out deep within a salt mine.
Before we leave Matthew makes sure to point out the memorial plaques dedicated to the miners largely responsible for the church. They’re near the exit and we pause to appreciate them and their work.
Nearing the end of the tour Matthew takes us to the underground lake. A small tunnel leads away from the lake and a sign indicates that boat trips can be arranged. They’re very expensive.
At the end of the tour Matthew shows us a statue of Johann Wolfgang Goethe. I learn that Goethe had an interest in mineralogy and stopped by whilst on an eight-day tour of the region. The statue commemorates his visit.
Exiting the gift shop we pass through a huge banquet hall and another chapel set up for events before making our way back to the surface. All in all we’ve walked about two kilometers, which is barely one one percent of all of the paths in the mine.
Matthew tells me he’s done a tour with a miner, which is a lot more interesting than the tours done for tourists. Alas, the liability would be too great if they were to allow tourists to join. At times you have to crawl through passages and walk beside large crevasses.
I wonder if I’d be able to do the latter, remembering an underground walk between churches in Lalibela, Ethiopia. Our guide had us extinguish our torches and hug the wall to our side, telling us there was a large chasm to the other side. I didn’t want to check.
Back in Krakow I wander around the Kazimierz, Krakow’s historic Jewish quarter. It’s now the hip area of town, boasting indie galleries, vintage clothing stores, and bars. I stop for an ice cream at Magdalenka Gelato and pick up a frequent visitor card, collecting my first stamp. I’m a little over optimistic.
Heading back home the late afternoon sun breaks through the clouds, beautifully illuminating the city. The Baroque Church of Saints Peter and Paul is bathed in especially beatific light.
In the evening I step back out into the streets in search of dinner. I want to take advantage of what little time I have and I love seeing cities by night, especially when they’re illuminated as beautifully as Krakow.
As I wander the streets and squares of the old town I take notes of the restaurants and cafes that catch my eye, saving them to my maps in case I have the opportunity to visit later. One cafe in particular becomes a favorite and I find my way there twice in the week to come.
Finally, I decide it’s time to head home. It’s been a long, active day, and I can barely believe how I had spent the morning, and how such a place that had seen such depraved acts against humanity could exist so close to this city teeming with life and abundance. And not only in terms of physical distance, but also of time. 🇵🇱
