A Journey Through Kraków and Beyond: Streets, Mountains, Memories, and Moments That Stay
By Abdullah Usman Morai | Sweden
Another destination, another brief rebellion against routine. For some, travel is a luxury; for others, it is a necessity of the soul, a quiet insistence that life must be experienced beyond the familiar. My journey to Kraków began in exactly that spirit.
Day One -6th September 2025: First Impressions of a Living City
The flight from Stockholm to Kraków lasted barely an hour and a half, but somewhere between the clouds and the quiet hum of the aircraft, a subtle shift occurred, the kind that only travel can bring. I had imagined Kraków to be modest, perhaps even sleepy. But as the plane descended, a different reality unfolded beneath me: a vast urban spread, punctuated by rows of apartment blocks, green patches, and the unmistakable rhythm of a city alive with history and modernity.
The weather greeted me kindly, mild, welcoming, almost conspiratorial, as if encouraging exploration.
At the airport, time slowed down as I waited for my friend Jan Mangrio, arriving from Cardiff. A cup of tea at the cafeteria turned into a companion of patience. When Jan finally appeared, the reunion was anything but quiet. Our greeting echoed a familiar “Sain” into the unfamiliar Polish air, drawing smiles and perhaps a few curious glances. Laughter, as always, came easily and loudly.
A short taxi ride took us to our accommodation, the Premium Hostel on Pomorska Street. The check-in was effortless, the reception warm and efficient. Though labeled a hostel, we had chosen the comfort of a private room, our small sanctuary in a foreign land.
Walking into the Pulse of Kraków
Our first steps into the city revealed a calm, almost meditative neighborhood. Clean roads, green surroundings. Jan remarked, with mild surprise, that it felt even more orderly than parts of the UK. But Kraków, like many historic cities, reveals itself in layers.
Armed with maps, directions, and curiously complimentary toffees from reception, we began walking along Karmelicka Street toward the Old Town. With each step, the city’s tempo increased. Quiet streets gave way to a vibrant hum. Tram tracks cut through the roads, and sleek trams glided past with rhythmic regularity, as if marking time in a city that refuses to stand still.
Near the Piasek area, we paused at the elegant Church of the Visitation of the Blessed Virgin Mary, a Baroque structure that stands as both a place of worship and a reminder of Kraków’s layered religious and cultural heritage. Nearby lies a curious relic: a stone slab bearing what is believed to be the footprint of Queen Jadwiga. Revered for her wisdom, humility, and charitable works, Queen Jadwiga remains one of Poland’s most beloved historical figures. Legend suggests that this imprint was left during the construction of a church, a symbolic gesture of her devotion.
Where Evening Becomes Celebration
By the time we reached the Old Town, the sun had already surrendered to evening, and the city had transformed. Cobblestone streets shimmered under warm lights. Restaurants spilled onto pavements, their menus whispering promises of flavors from around the world. Halal kebab shops stood beside European cafés; ice cream parlors competed with bustling bars.
Street performers added a poetic rhythm to the scene. On one quiet cobbled stretch, a young woman played the violin with haunting grace, her music weaving through the crowd, briefly uniting strangers in shared stillness.
Then, suddenly, the city opened up.
We found ourselves standing in the magnificent Rynek Główny, the largest medieval town square in Europe. It is less square and more of a living stage. At its center stands the historic Cloth Hall (Sukiennice), once a major hub of international trade. Nearby rises the iconic St. Mary’s Basilica, its twin towers watching over centuries of history, its trumpet call echoing every hour, a tradition that continues to this day.
The square was alive. Not merely crowded, but vibrant in a way that felt almost theatrical. A young woman approached us with an invitation to a strip club, an offer we politely declined, though we did request something else: photographs. To our surprise, she obliged generously, capturing moments with an unexpected artistic eye. In that fleeting exchange, she transformed from solicitor to storyteller.
We wandered through illuminated arcades lined with souvenir shops, their warm lights casting a nostalgic glow. Purchases could wait; we preferred to absorb first, to understand before owning.
Moments That Stay
In one corner of the square, music played, and people danced freely, children, couples, strangers. It felt like an open-air celebration without invitation. Among them, one moment stood still: a woman in a wheelchair, dancing with the help of a companion who moved her gently, rhythmically. Hands lifted, wheels turned, laughter shared. It was more than a dance; it was inclusion, dignity, and love made visible.
Elsewhere, couples walked hand in hand, dogs trotted loyally beside their owners, and horse-drawn carriages added a romantic echo of another era.
From a distance, we caught a glimpse of Wawel Castle, perched with quiet authority. A visit for another day, we promised ourselves.
A Walk Through Memory: Kazimierz
Our journey continued toward Kazimierz, once a separate city and now a district rich with Jewish heritage. Kazimierz tells stories of coexistence, tragedy, and revival. Synagogues, cafés, and art spaces now stand where history once unfolded in both beauty and pain. Walking through its streets feels like turning the pages of a living archive.
Comfort in Familiar Flavors
Hunger eventually guided us to an unexpected comfort: a Pakistani restaurant named Habibi. Despite its Arabic name, it served authentic desi cuisine. The owner, a warm-hearted man from Punjab, Pakistan, welcomed us like old friends. The food was rich and flavorful, but it was the doodah Patti tea that truly transported us back home, if only for a moment.
Closing the Day
The return journey to our hostel was long but unhurried. We paused for ice cream, captured more photographs, and even picked up a few essentials for breakfast. The city, though quieter now, still pulsed gently under the night sky.
Back in our room at Premium Hostel, conversation flowed effortlessly, reflections, comparisons, and laughter. First impressions of Kraków were unanimous: a city that surprises, embraces, and reveals itself slowly, like a well-written story.
And like all good stories, it left us wanting more.
Sleep eventually claimed us, not abruptly, but mid-conversation, as if even dreams wished to continue the journey.
Day Two- 7th September 2025: Into the Mountains, Into the Moment
Travel has its own way of reshaping plans. What begins as a carefully designed itinerary often transforms into something more spontaneous, more human. Our second day in Kraków began with such a shift.
We had booked two organized trips, one to Zakopane and another to Auschwitz-Birkenau, through a local tour company. But travel, like life, rarely unfolds exactly as planned. The Auschwitz trip was canceled due to the unavailability of an English-speaking guide. Disappointing, yes, but not discouraging. We decided we would find our own way there another day. For now, the mountains were calling.
A Morning of Simplicity
The day began in the shared kitchen of our hostel’s surprisingly large, airy space with windows opening to the outside world. Trams passed rhythmically, birds sang from nearby trees, and travelers from different corners of the world quietly prepared their breakfasts. There is something beautifully democratic about hostel kitchens: strangers sharing space, stories, and sometimes even salt.
We kept it simple: porridge, tea, and muffins, a humble meal, but one that felt complete.
On the Road to Zakopane
Soon, a tourist van arrived, already carrying a small group: an English couple with their child, a mother with her two daughters from the UK, and then us, Jan and I, bringing a touch of Sindh into this European mosaic.
Our driver doubled as a guide. His English was limited, but his gestures were expressive, almost theatrical. Communication found its way through smiles, hand movements, and shared curiosity. The sky remained overcast, adding a soft, cinematic tone to the journey.
Kościelisko: Where the Mountains Breathe
Our first stop was Kościelisko-Biały Potoka, a place that felt like a painting brought to life. Wooden houses stood quietly against the backdrop of the Tatra Mountains, their sloping roofs and rustic textures telling stories of tradition and resilience.
Sheep grazed lazily in open fields, and nearby, a small wooden hut invited us to experience something local: oscypek, the famous smoked cheese made from sheep’s milk. Inside, the air carried a rich, earthy aroma. We tasted the cheese paired unexpectedly with jam. The combination was curious yet delightful. Some in our group hesitated; others embraced it. Taste, after all, is deeply personal.
Outside, wooden benches offered a perfect pause, cheese in hand, mountains in view, and time momentarily irrelevant. Nearby, we even saw the traditional smoking process, where the cheese slowly transformed over a fire of wood into the delicacy it is known for.
Echoes of Craft- Willa Koliba
Our journey continued to Willa Koliba, a masterpiece of traditional wooden architecture and a symbol of the Zakopane style. Built in the late 19th century, it now serves as a museum preserving the region’s artistic and cultural heritage.
Equipped with headphones, we walked through its rooms, guided by stories of craftsmanship and design. Wooden carvings, tools, and furniture reflected a deep respect for nature and skill. At one point, I noticed tools that reminded me of carpenters back home, familiar shapes in a distant land. It made me smile. Cultures may differ, but hands that create often speak the same language.
Visitors from various countries moved quietly through the museum, each absorbing the narrative in their own language, yet sharing the same sense of wonder.
Gubałówka- Above It All
From there, we moved toward the heart of Zakopane, where we boarded the funicular to Gubałówka Hill. The ride itself was brief but scenic, lifting us gently above the town into a world of panoramic beauty.
At the top, the view unfolded dramatically, rolling hills, distant peaks, and a horizon that seemed endless. The place was alive with activity. Families, couples, children, and everyone seemed to be participating in the joy of the moment. There were horse rides, small attractions, cafés, and open spaces designed simply for sitting and absorbing the mountains.
One noticeable detail: a strong presence of Arab families, their warm greetings of “Salam Alaikum” creating a surprising sense of familiarity. The scent of oud lingered in the air, blending with the crisp mountain breeze. Halal food options were abundant, clear evidence of how Zakopane is evolving as a global tourist destination.
Jan, with his usual humor, referred to them as “Hajis and Hajanis,” a label that brought smiles not just to us, but occasionally to those who overheard.
We enjoyed ice cream, followed by tea, simple pleasures elevated by extraordinary surroundings. Photographs were taken, memories captured. Wooden seating areas invited visitors to pause, reflect, and simply be.
However, a small challenge emerged: many shops preferred cash over cards. A minor inconvenience, but one that added to the authenticity of the experience.
Back to the Town Below
Descending once again via the funicular, we spent some time in the lively square below before walking into the town center of Zakopane itself. Often referred to as Poland’s winter capital, Zakopane is a charming blend of natural beauty and cultural vibrancy.
A gentle stream flowed through the town, its clear waters reflecting the surrounding greenery. The streets were filled with life, tourists, locals, laughter, and movement. The mountains stood nearby, not distant, but present, like silent guardians.
We paused briefly at a familiar global landmark, McDonald’s, for a quick bite. Even in travel, there are moments where familiarity offers comfort.
A Gift of Experience
Back in the van, conversations flowed more freely now. Shared experiences had turned strangers into companions. The mother of two daughters shared that one of them had just turned eighteen, and this trip was her birthday gift.
I found that deeply meaningful. Not a material gift, but one of experience of seeing the world, of feeling it. Perhaps the most valuable kind.
Return, Rest, and the City Again
The return journey was quieter. Some of us drifted into sleep, rocked gently by the movement of the van. By evening, we were back at our hostel in Kraków.
After a brief rest and, of course, a cup of tea, we felt the familiar pull of the Old Town once again.
This time, we noticed something we had missed before: Planty Park, a green ring encircling the historic center. Built on the remains of old city walls, it now serves as a peaceful boundary between past and present, a circular embrace of nature around history.
The Old Town greeted us like an old friend. The same lights, the same music, the same vibrant energy.
Dinner once again brought us to Habibi, where familiar faces and flavors awaited. Conversations with fellow Pakistanis and the owner added warmth to the evening, turning a foreign place into something almost like home.
A Walk Along the Vistula
But the night still had one more gift.
We chose a different path back, one that led us to the banks of the Vistula River. Flowing gracefully through Kraków, the Vistula is more than a river; it is the city’s lifeline, its silent witness.
The walk along the river was calm, almost meditative. Lights from nearby bridges reflected on the water, creating a soft, shimmering glow. There were fewer people here, and that made it even more special. It felt like the city had given us a quiet corner just for ourselves.
Step by step, we walked back to our hostel, tired, but in the most satisfying way. The kind of tiredness that comes not from exhaustion, but from fullness. From living a day well.
End of Another Chapter
Back in our room, the ritual continued: tea, conversation, reflections. And then, slowly, sleep.
Another day had ended. Another story had begun.
Day Three- 8th September 2025: Between Memory and Rain
Some journeys are filled with color, laughter, and movement. Others arrive quietly, carrying a weight you cannot see but deeply feel. Our third day in Kraków was meant to be one of reflection, of history, and perhaps of understanding something far beyond ourselves.
A Morning That Turned Inward
The routine had already begun to settle in: breakfast, tea, a few light conversations, and then stepping out into the city. But this morning carried a different tone. The sky was overcast, and a gentle rain had begun to fall, as if the day itself understood where we were headed.
We walked toward the central station, Kraków Główny, intending to travel to Auschwitz. The plan was simple: take a bus or a train, arrive early, and explore one of the most significant historical sites in the world.
At the FlixBus counter, we learned that the next bus would take an hour. Time, on this particular day, felt too valuable to wait. So, we turned toward the trains, more immediate, more certain. Tickets were booked, platforms located, and soon we were seated inside a train that was already full of quiet anticipation.
A Conversation Between Stations
Across from us sat a woman reading a book, absorbed in her own world. Meanwhile, I indulged in one of my small travel habits, reading out station names as they passed. Polish names, often complex at first glance, became a kind of rhythm for me.
At the first station, she smiled.
Second, she closed her book.
Curiosity had replaced silence.
She asked how I was able to pronounce the names so accurately. I laughed. There was no method, no learning, just instinct and perhaps a bit of playful confidence. She complimented my pronunciation, and what began as a simple exchange turned into a conversation about life, travel, and purpose.
When she learned we were heading to Auschwitz, her tone softened.
“You might want to visit,” she said gently, “but it may also change how you feel.”
There was something in her words that lingered even after she stepped off the train, wishing us a good journey.
Auschwitz- Where Silence Speaks
We arrived at Auschwitz-Birkenau, a place that needs no introduction, yet resists full comprehension.
Established during World War II by Nazi Germany, Auschwitz became the largest concentration and extermination camp, where over a million people, mostly Jews, but also Poles, Roma, and others, lost their lives. Today, it stands preserved as a memorial and museum, not just of death, but of remembrance.
From the station, the path was clear. Signs guided us, and so did the flow of people, tourists, visitors, and learners. Many were walking fast, almost rushing. It soon became clear why: access, especially with an English-speaking guide, is limited and in high demand.
By the time we reached the Auschwitz-Birkenau Memorial and Museum, the reality was unavoidable; no tickets were available for guided tours in English. Despite starting early, we were still late.
A quiet disappointment settled in.
But we stayed.
We walked through the areas open to the public without tickets. And sometimes, perhaps, silence teaches more than guided words ever could.
Standing there, Jan and I tried to imagine the past, not as history written in books, but as lives once lived in this very space. The barracks, the fences, the pathways… everything carried an invisible echo. It was not loud, not dramatic, but deeply unsettling in its stillness.
There are places where you speak less, not because you have nothing to say, but because words feel insufficient.
Auschwitz was one of those places.
Return with Rain
After some time, we made our way back to Kraków. The rain had grown heavier now, as if the sky had fully surrendered to the mood of the day.
Back at the hostel, we did something simpler. Tea, once again, became our quiet companion. Outside, the rain continued its soft conversation with the city.
There was no urgency, no rush to explore. Just stillness.
Evening Reflections in a Wet City
Later, as the rain eased, we stepped out again toward the Old Town. The streets were wet, glistening under soft lights. Fallen leaves from nearby trees clung to the cobblestones, creating a scene that felt almost cinematic.
This time, we chose something different for dinner, a Turkish döner kebab. Warm, flavorful, and comforting, it matched the mood of the evening perfectly.
There was something about Kraków in the rain, quieter, more reflective. The usual vibrancy softened into something gentler, more intimate.
We walked slowly, without a plan. No rush to see, no checklist to complete. Just presence.
A Day That Stayed Quiet
Unlike the previous days filled with movement and discovery, this one remained calm, almost introspective. Not every day of travel needs to be loud or eventful. Some days simply ask you to feel.
And this was one of them.
We returned to our room, carrying not souvenirs, but thoughts.
No long conversations that night. No laughter echoes through the walls.
Just a quiet understanding.
And then, sleep.
Day Four- 9th September 2025: Sunlight, Goodbyes, and Gentle Endings
Every journey, no matter how vibrant, eventually leans toward a quiet conclusion. Our fourth day in Kraków carried that familiar feeling, the awareness that time here was coming to an end, even as the city still had more to offer.
Our flights were scheduled for the evening, but the day belonged to us.
Leaving, Yet Not Leaving
After breakfast, we packed our belongings, but not without a small gesture of continuity; we left behind some food items in the common kitchen for other travelers. A silent tradition of hostels, where strangers care for strangers without ever meeting.
With our bags lighter and hearts a little heavier, we stepped out once more, walking toward the Old Town, this time under daylight.
A Familiar Square, A New Perspective
We reached Rynek Główny again. Though it was a weekday, the square was alive, busy, energetic, and somehow even more revealing in daylight. The details stood out now: statues clearer, architectural lines sharper, and the rhythm of daily life more visible.
Cyclists moved effortlessly through space, weaving between tourists and locals. Arab families, once again, added a familiar warmth to the surroundings. This time, we didn’t just pass through; we paused, observed, and absorbed.
We finally gave in to the temptation of souvenirs, choosing small items to carry a piece of Kraków back with us.
Above the City- Wawel’s Quiet Authority
From the square, we walked toward the iconic Wawel Castle, a symbol of Polish pride and history. Perched on a hill overlooking the Vistula River, the castle complex is not just a structure, but a narrative carved in stone.
Once the residence of Polish kings, Wawel has witnessed centuries of coronations, decisions, and defining moments. Its courtyards, towers, and cathedral stand as reminders of a nation’s resilience and identity.
From the elevated grounds, the view stretched beautifully across the river and beyond. The city seemed calmer from above, orderly, poetic.
It was here, amidst photographs and laughter, that one of the day’s most unexpected moments occurred.
As Jan was taking my picture, a woman suddenly stepped beside me, posed naturally, and laughed:
“I can be in your photo too!”
And just like that, a stranger became part of a memory.
Her carefree spirit, her openness, captured something essential about travel itself. Moments that cannot be planned, only received.
Kazimierz in Daylight- Stories in Silence
We returned to Kazimierz, this time under the clarity of day. What had felt atmospheric at night now revealed deeper layers.
Cafés, bookstores, and souvenir shops lined the streets, many reflecting Jewish heritage. We paused outside a synagogue, its quiet presence speaking of history, faith, and survival.
Inside one small shop, a woman shared an insight: while a few hundred Jews live in the area, only a small number actively practice religion. The rest, she explained, are more cultural than religious.
It was a subtle but powerful reflection of how identity evolves with time.
An alphabet chart in Hebrew caught our attention, a simple display, yet deeply symbolic. Language, like memory, preserves what history tries to erase.
A Quiet Pause in Nature
Later, we found ourselves seated in a small park. There, time slowed again.
Birds moved freely, some swimming in the water, others perched quietly, drying their wings under the gentle sun. The scene was simple, almost ordinary, yet deeply calming. After days of movement, this stillness felt earned.
Travel is not only about seeing new places, but it is also about learning to sit, observe, and simply exist within them.
Through the Gate- Floriańska Street
Our walk continued toward Floriańska Street, entering through the iconic St. Florian’s Gate (Brama Floriańska). This historic pathway once served as a royal route, connecting the city gates to the heart of the Old Town.
Today, it is one of Kraków’s most vibrant streets, lined with shops, cafés, and a constant flow of life. Walking through it felt like moving through layers of time, where medieval walls coexist with modern energy.
Moments of Trust
Back at Rynek Główny, we sat on benches, watching birds gather and disperse, horse-drawn carriages passing by. The drivers, often elegantly dressed women, invited tourists to experience the city in a slower, more romantic way.
Amidst this, a young girl approached us. She showed a photograph of a young man and explained that she was collecting donations for his medical treatment. She accepted any currency.
Without hesitation, I offered her some Swedish currency I had in my wallet.
There was no verification, no certainty, just a moment of trust. Travel, sometimes, asks you to trust without knowing why.
A Final Quiet Corner
Our last stop was Skwer Andrzeja Wajdy, a small but meaningful space named after the renowned Polish filmmaker Andrzej Wajda. Surrounded by greenery and calm, it felt like a fitting place to pause before departure, a gentle closing note to a layered journey.
The Journey Home
From there, we made our way to Kraków Główny, had a simple lunch, and then boarded a train to the airport.
And just like that, the journey began to dissolve into memory.
Jan continued toward Cardiff.
I returned to Stockholm.
Back to routine. Back to life.
But not quite the same.
Final Reflection – What Kraków Leaves Behind
Kraków is not a city that overwhelms you. It does something quieter; it unfolds.
In four days, it showed us joy and reflection, history and modernity, silence and celebration. From the lively pulse of Rynek Główny to the heavy stillness of Auschwitz-Birkenau, from the mountain air of Zakopane to the calm flow of the Vistula River, every moment added a layer.
Some strangers became stories.
Some places became feelings.
There were simple acts like sharing tea, walking in the rain, and offering help that became memories.
And perhaps that is what truly travel is:
Not just movement across geography,
But a quiet transformation within.
Read: A Day Beyond the Marathon
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Abdullah Soomro, penname Abdullah Usman Morai, hailing from Moro town of Sindh, province of Pakistan, is based in Stockholm Sweden. Currently he is working as Groundwater Engineer in Stockholm Sweden. He did BE (Agriculture) from Sindh Agriculture University Tando Jam and MSc water systems technology from KTH Stockholm Sweden as well as MSc Management from Stockholm University. Beside this he also did masters in journalism and economics from Shah Abdul Latif University Khairpur Mirs, Sindh. He is author of a travelogue book named ‘Musafatoon’. His second book is in process. He writes articles from time to time. A frequent traveler, he also does podcast on YouTube with channel name: VASJE Podcast.
