A Trumpeter on the Basilica

A trumpeter on the Basilica. Sounds crazy, no? But here in Krakow, everyone is a musician moving to their own tune. The accordion trio in the market square crooning polkas, the gymnastic students breakdancing to techno music, and the klezmer bands in the Jewish Quarter keeping the city beating to its heritage. To know Krakow, one must get to know their inhabitants. Take the neighborhood granny. At night, she can be seen using a tupperware container scooping sand from the public sandbox and putting it into her granny shopping cart. Or the group of young men, dressed in full leprechaun costumes complete with a fake scraggy red beard. And do not forget the Jehovah’s Witnesses that speak English with a heavy Polish accent. They are aggressive in their conversations, no matter what the language.

I was here as part of an orchestra tour that kept springing surprises. When we traveled to Zakopane, a resort town about 2 hours outside of Krakow, we got stuck behind a horse-drawn carriage while climbing the last hill. The chapel we played in was very practical in its construction – the bell tower doubled as a cell phone tower. When we went to Rebka, a small township, the city was so appreciative that the mayor came out to give a speech, and the organizers treated us to dinner. But during our first concert in St. Catherine’s in Krakow, we were introduced to another Polish tradition. Since programs are not handed out, it is customary to have an emcee announce the music and give a little background talk. The description of Beethoven’s 3rd symphony sounded something like this: “… polish … polish … Ludwig van Beethoven … polish … Michael Jackson …” We looked around quizzically at each other, trying to figure out the connection.

Sometimes it felt that we spent more time eating than playing. While wandering with a few other musicians around the old town in Krakow one evening, we were stopped by a sign outside of a restaurant.

We welcome you kindly with our bread with
home-made lard free as a greeting gift.

How could we refuse such a generous offer? As we poured over the menu, the waitress came up and offered to provide us with 200 Zlotys worth of food. A quick calculation put the amount at less than £7 per person. After confirming that it would be enough to feed 6 people, we sat back and enjoyed our beers. Imagine our delight when we found ourselves staring at three-foot long wooden trough full of perogis, chicken wings, fried fish, ribs, pork, sauerkraut and sausages, potatoes and fried cheese. Although we only finished lunch at 3pm, we made ourselves hungry anyways.

The history and lore were what made the trip. Up on the hill is the old castle, built, rebuilt, and re-rebuilt. As legend has it, below the castle is a cave where a dragon dwelt. It terrorized the countryside until a king/prince/farmer/alien (depending on the version) tricked the dragon by stuffing a cow with sulfur. The dragon, after eating the cow, died a horrible death. After that, the Kingdom of Poland was safe for many hundreds of years. As for the trumpeter, he plays from the tower of St. Mary’s Basilica every hour on the hour. According to folklore, an invading horde of Mongols in the 13th century shot the poor musician in the middle of his fanfare. In tribute to his death, it is now customary to abruptly stop the fanfare where he was killed. When the trumpeter does stop, however, he waves to the crowds below, something that the unfortunate victim most likely did not do. But the tradition carries on, adding to the mix of people and experiences that makes up Krakow.

And the best part was laughing about all of them over a liter of beer.