Yesterday, we started with the Amber Museum, which explains how amber is made that we now mostly use for jewelry. The young scientist in the crowd was rather taken with the process of insects being trapped and preserved in sap, and delighted to identify various insects in the amber samples. Flies make up 70% of insects trapped in amber, and so her request to see a beetle was unfulfilled. The amber museum is in an old prison, so after you see amber you can walk down the corridor and see where they kept the dangerous criminals.
Perhaps in the spirit of redemption, we then went to St Mary's cathedral. And climbed the tower. 400 stairs. With a 5 year old. Actually- she rocked the ascent. Now, though, it's time to revisit lines in Poland. I've written before about the curious nature of lining up for things in Poland, but after experiencing a line-barger in the cathedral, I give you a snippet from one of our guidebooks:
A seemingly straightforward concept, while standing in an orderly line is probably unconsciously ingrained where you come, here in Poland queuing is a cutthroat game of cunning and sabotage. It appears that decades of communist rule, which featured endless necessity-induced queuing to obtain the most basic goods obliterated any respect the Poles had for the concept of an organized line. Such a queue did not bring about any reward during the cold war era. Sadly, the most courteous family was the family without toilet paper in those days. Rudeness and results began an unholy marriage and queue barging became a common practice that endures to this day. In such situations patience is both a blessing and a curse as everyone and (especially) their mother will attempt to oust you in line. Tactics include confusing and deceptive bursts of Polish dialogue to the effect of “I was standing in front of you” (when they clearly were not), “I’m late for something, I have to go before you” or more commonly “I’m older than you, let me go first.” Should you give any space between you and the person in front of you (a courteous gesture in most civilised countries) it will be filled by someone who either completely ignores the fact that you are there, or spears you with an umbrella and a glare to ensure there’s no protest. Also, if a person feels their needs can be easily satisfied it’s agreed that said person need not stand in line, but march straight to the window, interrupt whatever is happening there and expect to be assisted. Sadly, this practice is upheld by clerks who will stop fulfilling your request to attend to the barger’s request. Taking into account all of these factors, perhaps the only recourse is indeed a tenacious complacencyWe found our place in line, though, and ascended the 78 meter tower:
Above, MK peers up at the tower she just climbed.
After a toy museum, we went to the maritime museum. I'd bore you terribly if I tried to summarize the contents, but it was interesting to see how the evolution of boats and industry (including warfare) shaped a culture and country. Below is the outside of the museum - mostly so you can see that there are several floors that are accessed by stairs. Another oddity of Polish museums: there are many docents/attendants who follow you around the museum, and open and close doors to route you in the proper directions.
Today, we started just north of Gdánsk in Oliwa Gdánsk, with the Oliwa Cathedral. A surely maligned kitchen boy started a fire in 1350 and burned down the church, but the Swedes did the same a couple hundred years later. It's now famous for the organ, finished in 1780. It has moving cherubs and spiny things, and makes all kinds of unexpected sounds. Nod for you organ buffs: 7896 pipes and 110 registers. They do 20 minute concerts on the hour, so we got to hear some nice music, and some of those crazy sounds.
Looking back to shore from the end of the pier:
If you like, you can go for a ride on the bay in a RIB (for a small fee, of course). I was tempted, but thought this boat might be too slow...
