Gdansk-next-the-sea

No, Gdansk has neither been renamed nor become British. Gdansk-next-the-sea is but a rendering in English of Gdansk, Pomorze (po being next to, morze from more which is sea), the Slavic name for the region from which the more familiar Pomerania was derived. Yes, the popular orange-white lap dog of the same name was bred in this southern Baltic coastal region stretching from the East German coast to the Vistula River just east of Gdansk.

Below: Pretending to be warm and snug on ulica Dlugi, the main thoroughfare in Gdansk's Old Town.

Gdansk is famous for two things: being Danzig, and Lech Walesa (who became the public face of Solidarity, a nationwide trade union movement instrumental in toppling the communist regime). Students of History, specifically of the post-First-World-War settlement of Versailles, would relate to the Free City of Danzig, which is Gdansk in German. In medieval times the city was, like Tallinn and Riga, a member of the Hanseatic League. Its location near the mouth of the Vistula whose course forms Poland's spine helped it to dominate Poland's maritime trade. Much of this passed through the hands of German merchants, who were invited by the Pomeranian dukes to settle in the city from the twelfth century onwards (hence Danzig).

Below: "You who have harmed simple man, mocking him with your laughter, you kill him, somebody else will be born, and your deeds and words will be written down." So read the words of Czeslaw Milosz on the Monument to the Fallen Shipyard Workers of 1970, erected as part of the demands of Lech Walesa's Solidarity in their stand-off with the communist regime ten years after. Back then, it was the first monument in the Soviet bloc put up to commemorate victims of the communist regime. Lech Walesa eventually became Poland's first post-Soviet head of state. His trademark moustache, except for a respite in 2002, remains. (Our pose was Mary's idea of Solidarity.)

This gave Gdansk (or Danzig if you please) a mixed Slavo-German character which was extinguished in the aftermath of the Second World War and occluded by the subsequent writing of national and nationalized histories (claiming either an exclusively German or Polish past for the city). In 1945, with a slice of eastern Germany given to Poland as compensation for the slice of eastern Poland taken by the Soviets, the German population (those who were still alive) in Gdansk was expelled and the depleted Polish population replenished with Poles who were in turn expelled from those parts of Poland taken by the Soviet Union.

Below: the interior of St Catherine's Church, where we found shelter from the freezing morning. The church was built by the German merchants who brought prosperity to the city.

We arrived in Gdansk late on the eve of New Year's Eve. Having decided to visit Malbork (more on that in a later post) the next day, we waited until 2016 to explore the city. But 2016 could barely wait, clattering unceremoniously into our room at midnight with an interminable series of bursts and claps. And then came the heavy footfalls of returning revellers in deepest, darkest night. We didn't sleep much, of course.

Stepping outside in the late morning, the first sky we saw in 2016 was blue. The sun was shining, but winter finally began to bite harder. It wasn't long before we started speaking in slurs. Imagine Nien Numb's half-lipped babble in The Return of the Jedi (another masterstroke in punny characterization by George Lucas, Numb flew the Millennium Falcon with Lando Calrissian in the mission to destroy the second Death Star), and you'll get an idea of our stuttling exchange in the freezing cold. Shelter was found at St Catherine's Church on the northwestern edges of the Old Town. Incidentally, the church was the first to be built by the German merchants of the Hansa. The Polish hymns playing inside warmed our hearts even if our lips took a while to regain their former functionality.

The crowds were out in full force when we exited the church. Most shops were closed. (Such circumstances treated passers-by just the night before to the strange spectacle of two Chinese tourists queuing up to buy bottled water at a liquor store.) Cafes and restaurants, thankfully, weren't.

Below (top to bottom): other notable landmarks in the Old Town, the ones that follow being located between St Catherine's Church and ulica Dlugi - the Great Mill, where grain was ground; the Hala Targowa, a neo-Gothic covered market; the Great Armoury, a structure from a time when cities often faced the spectre of incursion.

We followed the stream of tourists to ulica Dluga. This east-west axis bisected the Old Town and was part of the route taken by Polish kings when they visited the city. For most visitors, Ulica Dluga issues from the Golden Gate on its western end, proceeding past meticulously restored burgher houses with their fancifully painted facades to the Gothic Town Hall and the fountain of Neptune (dry when we passed but once said to have spewed beer in simpler times) at Dlugi Targ (the market square) and ends at the Green Gate where the king resided if in town. One could see the street was where the wealth brought in by trade was lavished.

Above (top to bottom): Ulica Dluga from west end to east - Mary making small talk with some locals at the base of the Highland Gate, where prisoners were once kept and tortured; looking back towards the Golden Gate; my expression betrayed my thoughts at the Fountain of Neptune, where Iegend says once spewed beer...

Below (top to bottom): ...the Green Gate at night, beyond which the street meets the river; Christmas lights makes Christmas feel like forever in these parts.

The trade which generated the wealth, though, was most amply represented by the sights along the Motlawa River. The river and its promenade on both banks ran perpendicular to ulica Dluga just beyond the Green Gate. Many of the former warehouses have since been converted into museums, shops, restaurants and hotels. Several artefacts point to the significance of Gdansk's maritime history - the Zubaw, a medieval crane capable of lifting loads up 2,000 kilograms, two galleons moored alongside its embankment which take tourists on a cruise to the river mouth, and the Soldek, in 1947 the first ocean-going vessel built by the Gdansk shipyard. Trade is still lucrative these days, albeit in tourist dollars.

Below (top to bottom): Standing before one of the galleons that regularly bring tourists on cruises down to the river mouth. The last building in the background (rightmost) is actually the Zubaw. Yes, we know - looks nothing like a crane; further down the promenade by the Motlawa, the Soldek.

We did not follow the Motlawa all the way to sea, turning back towards town while still within sight of it. Even after a dinner of potato pancakes (fast becoming a firm favourite) and a cup of hot chocolate, we still had three hours to kill before beginning another overnighter to Wroclaw with Polskibus. Boarding later on, our bloodlust extended beyond hours (let's discuss Polish manners in another post). As 1 January 2016 drew to a close, crackers were still going off all over the city. These might have been more useful in clearing a path up the bus for us.