Travel is a very popular hobby. It gives a sense of meaning.

One might be getting excited by the amount of bridges a city has, or some other hardly meaningful statistic, as its unique property, since with the sheer quantity of cities and countries one visits, it's becoming impossible to delve any deeper into the identity of places and to have a dialogue with it, resulting in an experience of awe and grace by understanding monumental inheritance of what people do, how people think, what they feel, in a particular region of culture.

Among Polish cities, I know Wroclaw for its cameral jazz clubs, urban bloom from late baroque onwards, that fueled certain desires reflected in the walls, the graves. Medieval sacral works and the connection between a life then and now. But certainly not for the amount of fucking Gnome sculptures hidden around the city.

I know Cracow punk nightlife, the streets that were walked by kings and artists, for fine dining and the Jewish library in which you may randomly encounter and converse with people of great caliber. And not for the fucking sorry ass dragon. In each of these cities I were 3 days total with no tour guide, also these were my first travel destinations in my life. I'll do better next time.

I know Lodz for the pubs, raves, galleries full of artwork made by aspiring students of academy of fine arts and film school; for history enthusiasts who keep finding strange stories of the past; for social institution hidden within walls of post-ghetto tentments, doing great work for the sake of those in need; for the city of 4 cultures that have lived in harmony. And certainly not for Mr Pretzel, Manufaktura or other global concern that's the same anywhere in the world.

Travel is a very popular hobby. It gives a sense of meaning.

One might be getting excited by the amount of bridges a city has, or some other hardly meaningful statistic, as its unique property, since with the sheer quantity of cities and countries one visits, it's becoming impossible to delve any deeper into the identity of places and to have a dialogue with it, resulting in an experience of awe and grace by understanding monumental inheritance of what people do, how people think, what they feel, in a particular region of culture.

Among Polish cities, I know Wroclaw for its cameral jazz clubs, urban bloom from late baroque onwards, that fueled certain desires reflected in the walls, the graves. Medieval sacral works and the connection between a life then and now. But certainly not for the amount of fucking Gnome sculptures hidden around the city.

I know Cracow punk nightlife, the streets that were walked by kings and artists, for fine dining and the Jewish library in which you may randomly encounter and converse with people of great caliber. And not for the fucking sorry ass dragon. In each of these cities I were 3 days total with no tour guide, also these were my first travel destinations in my life. I'll do better next time.

I know Lodz for the pubs, raves, galleries full of artwork made by aspiring students of academy of fine arts and film school; for history enthusiasts who keep finding strange stories of the past; for social institution hidden within walls of post-ghetto tentments, doing great work for the sake of those in need; for the city of 4 cultures that have lived in harmony. And certainly not for Mr Pretzel, Manufaktura or other global concern that's the same anywhere in the world.