When Bunty and Algernon insisted there were no good restaurants in Kazimierz Dolny, it was like throwing down the gauntlet to the Wayne-Boughs – we set off in the jalopy to prove them wrong. I drove – Harold’s always stopping to buy things from those well-dressed young farm workers on the side of the road. I’m sure I wouldn’t bother wearing make-up and stiletto heels, let alone hotpants, to go blueberry picking. (The stinging nettles, for one thing). The overheads involved obviously impact on their profit margins – on one or two occasions I’ve heard Harold shout "HOW MUCH???” in a tone of some incredulity, before returning to the car.
Kazimierz is a small town. A very small town. In fact, I’ve seen bigger supermarkets. There’s the main square, the church, the castle ruins, the three crosses and the river. You can do it in an afternoon. On a day trip it’s quite an easy mistake to think the Rynek is all there is. But we suspected it might take a little detective work to find some good restaurants, so we booked a hotel for the night and decided to make a weekend of it.
There are some good hotels in Kazimierz, but I’m sorry to say we weren’t staying in any of them.
The much-praised "Lażnia” has unfortunately closed down indefinitely, which is a shame, as it’s a lovely Renaissance building and smack in the centre of town. The long-awaited "Esterka” - purchased a few years ago by the ubiquitous Magda Gessler - still hasn’t opened. So we stuck a pin in the guide book and chose the Spichlerze (Krakowska 59/61), which is a converted granary situated by the river, but accessible only down a long cobbled road. The Spichlerze and its sister hotel the Murka are beautiful buildings, situated in their own carefully-tended gardens. Unfortunately the interior did not live up to what the exterior promised, nor did it justify the 250 zloty room rate.
We headed for the town centre in search of lunch. A word of advice if you’re planning on lunching in Kazimierz – don’t try to do it on the Rynek. Only one of the three cafes serves any food at all, and we know from previous experience that it’s fairly limited. And on top of that, you’ll be hassled by gypsies constantly. It was interesting to note that the visitors to Kazimierz, unlike the Varsovians, are generally friendly to the gypsies, offering them cigarettes, pieces of fruit or a few coins. This spirit of tolerance did not pervade Heartless Harold, who told them in no uncertain terms that a spell in the armed forces would do them good. As they didn’t understand a word of English, they just put a curse on him and slunk off. We managed to ignore them eventually and spent a pleasant hour or two admiring the Renaissance architecture of Kazimierz (or the "houses with twiddly bits on”, to quote Harold’s technical appraisal).
If you go out of the Rynek past the Przybyla Brothers’ house (the extremely twiddly one) and cross over the stream, you’ll see a large sign saying simply „GRILL”.
This is an excellent place which has no name, apart from GRILL (address Nadrzeczna 24), but serves a sort of all-in BBQ ‘n’ salad bar lunch for around 27 zlotys. Veggies can really pig out – if you’ll pardon the expression - on the all-you-can-eat salad bar for 9 zlotys. The BBQ offers the usual fare – ribs, karkόwka, etc. Harold was amused by the size of the golonkas, which were of Jurassic proportions. After lunch I left Harold happily sitting with his beer while I whizzed off to the Rynek for the best thing about Kazimierz – shopping! My favourite shop is Jarmark Polska, on the western corner of the Rynek. It has a life-size wooden carving of a witch on a broomstick outside, which Harold says will help remind him where to find me. It seems to stock the entire contents of the
Sukiennice in Krakόw in one small shop – and at comparable prices. There’s also the Mały Rynek, which is a mixture of flea market and craft market. Then there are the art galleries. I can amuse myself for hours with Harold’s credit card and a stout pair of walking shoes.
I finally reached the limits of Harold’s load-bearing capacity and we returned to our hotel for a feet-up before dinner. Our room had an ancient valve radio which Harold had great fun playing with. It was so old, I swear as he was twiddling the dial I caught a snatch of the very first episode of the Archers. We relaxed to an hour or so of The Light Programme then hit the Rynek again for a pre-prandial. The gypsies had all gone to bed, and had been replaced by the town low-life who tried their luck pan-handling the few remaining tourists. They got a distinctly cooler reception. The Rynek was nearly empty at seven-thirty in the evening, and one sensed that if Kazimierz had any nightlife at all, it wasn’t going to be here.
At Krakowska 11 is a pleasant little restaurant called „Vincent”, where we decided to have dinner. It is a small (seats 24) and classy establishment, with a lovely leafy garden where it would be nice to have Sunday lunch on a hot day, but as it was Saturday evening and turning a fraction chilly, we took a table inside and were regaled by the encyclopaedic musical repertoire of the gardener, who was sat at the upright in his muddy wellies and smock, reeling off everything from Mozart to Scott Joplin with a virtuoso flourish.
Asparagus being in season, we started with that. It was delicious, served with a simple sauce and a small salad garnish. For main course I ordered the De Volaille – chicken Kiev to you – and for Harold a fillet steak à la Kazimierz the Great. The extensive menu ran to many variations on beef fillet but the one that arrived was quite unexpected. For one thing, it was made of pork. I know my Polish is a bit limited, but I’m sure it’s not that bad. However, it was a good pork fillet so Harold didn’t complain, just glared balefully at me for the rest of the evening for ordering in such appalling Polish. Our neighbours at the next table were French (always a good sign – they don’t eat just anywhere, you know) and were tucking into giant sized salads. The prices were probably expensive for Kazimierz, but extremely reasonable compared to Warsaw.
The pianist had a lovely touch on the ivories, despite his dirty fingernails, and played continually throughout our meal, except for a ten-minute break to go out and water the marigolds. I could have listened to him all night. However, we were out in the sticks, and by 9.30 p.m. we were the last people in the restaurant. We paid the bill and left, and I tipped the gardener a couple of zlotys on the way out for his lovely playing, and whispered a few tips on potting out his pelargonia. "Thank you,” he growled in perfect English. "Please come again”. To my horror, as we went out the door I saw his photograph on the wall – he was the owner. The bill came to around 230 zlotys, including a nice bottle of Cotes-du-Rhone for 120 zlotys. If you eat at Vincent, do visit the loo, it’s quite spectacular. It had mirrors, antique furniture, art, bowls of sweets, books, everything in fact except loo paper.
It was still not 10.00 p.m. when we returned to the hotel. The hotel doesn’t have a bar to speak of, but the nightclub was open for business, so we ventured down for a last snifter, and found ourselves in the louchest den of iniquity I have seen since I was caught short once in Penge. The barmaid was – how can I put this nicely? – a mangy old dog, with badly bleached hair, streaked eye make-up and a moustache. Harold was transfixed, like a rabbit in the headlights, his face frozen in a rictus grin. She mistook it for an admiring glance, and winked at him. Harold winked back, a nervous reaction,
no doubt. There was a small group of insalubrious looking types sitting around drinking vodka. The music was sort of Eurovision song contest circa 1972, and the décor much the same. Leatherette was very much the thing. When a few local yokels arrived and parked their pitchforks in a corner, we realized this was the nightlife in Kazimierz. I couldn’t face being roped into a Polish version of the welly-boot dance, so I told Harold to drink up and chodź.
After a peaceful night – if nothing else, the Spichlerze is very quiet – on Sunday morning we went for breakfast at the Piekarnia Sarzyński on Nadrzeczna, where they make the famous chicken-shaped bread. The coffee is excellent, and we treated ourselves to some blueberry croissants. The Rynek was just coming alive at 10.00 a.m., and the gypsies were standing around in groups discussing assault tactics and swapping curses. The shops in Kazimierz were all open on Sunday morning, so I managed to do most of my Christmas shopping at the Jarmark while Harold gazed pensively at an executioner’s axe they had for sale. He said it put him in mind of Bodger (the balaclava, no doubt).
We climbed up to the castle ruins, from which there is a superb view over Kazimierz and down the river. From our vantage point we spotted two excellent looking hotels on the river front, considerably nearer to town than the Spichlerze. We went down to investigate. One is called the Dwa Księżyce (The Two Moons) (ul. Sądowa 15, Tel: 081-881 0761) which also has a nice looking restaurant. The other is called the Hotel Wenus (ul.Tyszkiewicza 25a, Tel: 081-882 0400), which has only been open a year, and is quite glamorous inside. No idea about prices, but if you’re not completely broke, either of them would be preferable to the Spichlerze. The Wenus is the imposing red-roofed dwór just after the petrol station as the road veers away from the river going into Kazimierz. Both hotels have limited but free parking (that’s another gripe – the Spichlerze charged us 10 zlotys for using their car park!). If you are a tad borassic, Kazimierz is full of Noclegi, or B&B’s, and there’s a fish & chip bar just off the Rynek where you can eat for a few zlotys.
The river front at Kazimierz is being renovated, and a few restaurants are springing up alongside the river path. Just behind the Hotel Wenus, alongside the steeply pointed wooden roof of the Amfibar, is a pleasant looking fish restaurant called Rybka, which we earmarked for our next visit. Having a few hours to kill before heading back to the Big Pierogi, we went for a bite of lunch at the Zielona Tawerna (ul. Nadwiśłańska 4, Tel: (081) 881 0308). This is another excellent find – the interior is elegantly old-fashioned, there is a covered verandah and a large garden. They offer a good choice of copious and fresh salads. Harold finally got his red meat intake in the guise of a Tournedos with Bearnaise sauce. It wasn’t a tournedos, and the sauce wasn’t Bearnaise, but it was very nice anyway, he said, served with a salad and a small mountain of light French fries. I had a Salade Nicoise which was fresh and delicious. The service was extremely pleasant, and the bill came to 63 zlotys with drinks.
We never made it up the steep hill to the three crosses, but it’s always a good thing to save something for your next visit. It’s only two and a half hours drive from Warsaw (if you don’t slow down to ogle the milkmaids – they lend a whole new meaning to the term Countryside Alliance), and is a relaxing place to get away from it all for just a night. If you want to know more, check on the town’s tourist website: www.kazimierz-dolny.pl. Yes, I’ve finally gone online! You can e-mail me at daphne_wb@hotmail.com – I look forward to hearing your admiring comments, and if the social whirl permits, I might even reply!
Kazimierz is a small town. A very small town. In fact, I’ve seen bigger supermarkets. There’s the main square, the church, the castle ruins, the three crosses and the river. You can do it in an afternoon. On a day trip it’s quite an easy mistake to think the Rynek is all there is. But we suspected it might take a little detective work to find some good restaurants, so we booked a hotel for the night and decided to make a weekend of it.
There are some good hotels in Kazimierz, but I’m sorry to say we weren’t staying in any of them.
The much-praised "Lażnia” has unfortunately closed down indefinitely, which is a shame, as it’s a lovely Renaissance building and smack in the centre of town. The long-awaited "Esterka” - purchased a few years ago by the ubiquitous Magda Gessler - still hasn’t opened. So we stuck a pin in the guide book and chose the Spichlerze (Krakowska 59/61), which is a converted granary situated by the river, but accessible only down a long cobbled road. The Spichlerze and its sister hotel the Murka are beautiful buildings, situated in their own carefully-tended gardens. Unfortunately the interior did not live up to what the exterior promised, nor did it justify the 250 zloty room rate.We headed for the town centre in search of lunch. A word of advice if you’re planning on lunching in Kazimierz – don’t try to do it on the Rynek. Only one of the three cafes serves any food at all, and we know from previous experience that it’s fairly limited. And on top of that, you’ll be hassled by gypsies constantly. It was interesting to note that the visitors to Kazimierz, unlike the Varsovians, are generally friendly to the gypsies, offering them cigarettes, pieces of fruit or a few coins. This spirit of tolerance did not pervade Heartless Harold, who told them in no uncertain terms that a spell in the armed forces would do them good. As they didn’t understand a word of English, they just put a curse on him and slunk off. We managed to ignore them eventually and spent a pleasant hour or two admiring the Renaissance architecture of Kazimierz (or the "houses with twiddly bits on”, to quote Harold’s technical appraisal).
If you go out of the Rynek past the Przybyla Brothers’ house (the extremely twiddly one) and cross over the stream, you’ll see a large sign saying simply „GRILL”.
This is an excellent place which has no name, apart from GRILL (address Nadrzeczna 24), but serves a sort of all-in BBQ ‘n’ salad bar lunch for around 27 zlotys. Veggies can really pig out – if you’ll pardon the expression - on the all-you-can-eat salad bar for 9 zlotys. The BBQ offers the usual fare – ribs, karkόwka, etc. Harold was amused by the size of the golonkas, which were of Jurassic proportions. After lunch I left Harold happily sitting with his beer while I whizzed off to the Rynek for the best thing about Kazimierz – shopping! My favourite shop is Jarmark Polska, on the western corner of the Rynek. It has a life-size wooden carving of a witch on a broomstick outside, which Harold says will help remind him where to find me. It seems to stock the entire contents of theSukiennice in Krakόw in one small shop – and at comparable prices. There’s also the Mały Rynek, which is a mixture of flea market and craft market. Then there are the art galleries. I can amuse myself for hours with Harold’s credit card and a stout pair of walking shoes.
I finally reached the limits of Harold’s load-bearing capacity and we returned to our hotel for a feet-up before dinner. Our room had an ancient valve radio which Harold had great fun playing with. It was so old, I swear as he was twiddling the dial I caught a snatch of the very first episode of the Archers. We relaxed to an hour or so of The Light Programme then hit the Rynek again for a pre-prandial. The gypsies had all gone to bed, and had been replaced by the town low-life who tried their luck pan-handling the few remaining tourists. They got a distinctly cooler reception. The Rynek was nearly empty at seven-thirty in the evening, and one sensed that if Kazimierz had any nightlife at all, it wasn’t going to be here.
At Krakowska 11 is a pleasant little restaurant called „Vincent”, where we decided to have dinner. It is a small (seats 24) and classy establishment, with a lovely leafy garden where it would be nice to have Sunday lunch on a hot day, but as it was Saturday evening and turning a fraction chilly, we took a table inside and were regaled by the encyclopaedic musical repertoire of the gardener, who was sat at the upright in his muddy wellies and smock, reeling off everything from Mozart to Scott Joplin with a virtuoso flourish.
Asparagus being in season, we started with that. It was delicious, served with a simple sauce and a small salad garnish. For main course I ordered the De Volaille – chicken Kiev to you – and for Harold a fillet steak à la Kazimierz the Great. The extensive menu ran to many variations on beef fillet but the one that arrived was quite unexpected. For one thing, it was made of pork. I know my Polish is a bit limited, but I’m sure it’s not that bad. However, it was a good pork fillet so Harold didn’t complain, just glared balefully at me for the rest of the evening for ordering in such appalling Polish. Our neighbours at the next table were French (always a good sign – they don’t eat just anywhere, you know) and were tucking into giant sized salads. The prices were probably expensive for Kazimierz, but extremely reasonable compared to Warsaw.
The pianist had a lovely touch on the ivories, despite his dirty fingernails, and played continually throughout our meal, except for a ten-minute break to go out and water the marigolds. I could have listened to him all night. However, we were out in the sticks, and by 9.30 p.m. we were the last people in the restaurant. We paid the bill and left, and I tipped the gardener a couple of zlotys on the way out for his lovely playing, and whispered a few tips on potting out his pelargonia. "Thank you,” he growled in perfect English. "Please come again”. To my horror, as we went out the door I saw his photograph on the wall – he was the owner. The bill came to around 230 zlotys, including a nice bottle of Cotes-du-Rhone for 120 zlotys. If you eat at Vincent, do visit the loo, it’s quite spectacular. It had mirrors, antique furniture, art, bowls of sweets, books, everything in fact except loo paper.
It was still not 10.00 p.m. when we returned to the hotel. The hotel doesn’t have a bar to speak of, but the nightclub was open for business, so we ventured down for a last snifter, and found ourselves in the louchest den of iniquity I have seen since I was caught short once in Penge. The barmaid was – how can I put this nicely? – a mangy old dog, with badly bleached hair, streaked eye make-up and a moustache. Harold was transfixed, like a rabbit in the headlights, his face frozen in a rictus grin. She mistook it for an admiring glance, and winked at him. Harold winked back, a nervous reaction,
no doubt. There was a small group of insalubrious looking types sitting around drinking vodka. The music was sort of Eurovision song contest circa 1972, and the décor much the same. Leatherette was very much the thing. When a few local yokels arrived and parked their pitchforks in a corner, we realized this was the nightlife in Kazimierz. I couldn’t face being roped into a Polish version of the welly-boot dance, so I told Harold to drink up and chodź.
After a peaceful night – if nothing else, the Spichlerze is very quiet – on Sunday morning we went for breakfast at the Piekarnia Sarzyński on Nadrzeczna, where they make the famous chicken-shaped bread. The coffee is excellent, and we treated ourselves to some blueberry croissants. The Rynek was just coming alive at 10.00 a.m., and the gypsies were standing around in groups discussing assault tactics and swapping curses. The shops in Kazimierz were all open on Sunday morning, so I managed to do most of my Christmas shopping at the Jarmark while Harold gazed pensively at an executioner’s axe they had for sale. He said it put him in mind of Bodger (the balaclava, no doubt).
We climbed up to the castle ruins, from which there is a superb view over Kazimierz and down the river. From our vantage point we spotted two excellent looking hotels on the river front, considerably nearer to town than the Spichlerze. We went down to investigate. One is called the Dwa Księżyce (The Two Moons) (ul. Sądowa 15, Tel: 081-881 0761) which also has a nice looking restaurant. The other is called the Hotel Wenus (ul.Tyszkiewicza 25a, Tel: 081-882 0400), which has only been open a year, and is quite glamorous inside. No idea about prices, but if you’re not completely broke, either of them would be preferable to the Spichlerze. The Wenus is the imposing red-roofed dwór just after the petrol station as the road veers away from the river going into Kazimierz. Both hotels have limited but free parking (that’s another gripe – the Spichlerze charged us 10 zlotys for using their car park!). If you are a tad borassic, Kazimierz is full of Noclegi, or B&B’s, and there’s a fish & chip bar just off the Rynek where you can eat for a few zlotys.
The river front at Kazimierz is being renovated, and a few restaurants are springing up alongside the river path. Just behind the Hotel Wenus, alongside the steeply pointed wooden roof of the Amfibar, is a pleasant looking fish restaurant called Rybka, which we earmarked for our next visit. Having a few hours to kill before heading back to the Big Pierogi, we went for a bite of lunch at the Zielona Tawerna (ul. Nadwiśłańska 4, Tel: (081) 881 0308). This is another excellent find – the interior is elegantly old-fashioned, there is a covered verandah and a large garden. They offer a good choice of copious and fresh salads. Harold finally got his red meat intake in the guise of a Tournedos with Bearnaise sauce. It wasn’t a tournedos, and the sauce wasn’t Bearnaise, but it was very nice anyway, he said, served with a salad and a small mountain of light French fries. I had a Salade Nicoise which was fresh and delicious. The service was extremely pleasant, and the bill came to 63 zlotys with drinks.
We never made it up the steep hill to the three crosses, but it’s always a good thing to save something for your next visit. It’s only two and a half hours drive from Warsaw (if you don’t slow down to ogle the milkmaids – they lend a whole new meaning to the term Countryside Alliance), and is a relaxing place to get away from it all for just a night. If you want to know more, check on the town’s tourist website: www.kazimierz-dolny.pl. Yes, I’ve finally gone online! You can e-mail me at daphne_wb@hotmail.com – I look forward to hearing your admiring comments, and if the social whirl permits, I might even reply!
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