 Travel musings from inyourpocket's 'Uncle' Alex Webber
Previous Columns
|
Onto Czersk Friday 5th March, 2010
"I’m going to reconsider that in a bid to increase my reputation as the Ghost Cacther Supreme"
|
Weekends with Webber are pretty predictable – they start the moment I finish this column, then end the next Tuesday. Last weekend was different, however, and that was down to a monstrous bout of food poisoning that left me looking like I’d served four months in the jungle. Boozing after that episode was out of the question, so instead I found myself heading in directions new, namely the town of Czersk.
Now I travel extensively around Poland, but I have to confess when it comes to exploring the area immediately around Warsaw my investigations fall flat. More fool me. Czersk is thirty nine clicks from the Capital Cabbage, and providing you don’t mind bouncing across roads full of dents and gaps it’s pretty much the perfect daytrip.
A one horse town it most certainly is, but that wasn’t always the case. Back in the old days this was the Manhattan of Mazovia, and by 1350 Czersk was firmly established as the regional capital. The centrepiece, both then and now, was the castle, a prime piece of real estate perched by the Wisla – or at least it was.
Things started to go wrong for Czersk pretty much the moment the calendar struck 1400. The Wisla was hit by floods almost biblical in might, and when the waters finally retreated the locals woke to find the river had shifted two kilometres from them. With it’s strategic value now diminished the capital moved to Warsaw a few years later, and from then on the castle essentially functioned as a plaything of the royals. Over the next few centuries siege, fire and neglect all took their toll, and today what you’ll find is a smashed brick ruin that leaves a jagged silhouette on the skyline.
It’s supremely atmospheric, and I’m assured the views from the surviving towers almost poetic in spirit. A phobia of spiral stairs means I can’t confirm that, but what I can confirm is the opportunity to stay there; ring in advance and they’ll let you camp on the grounds in exchange for a twenty. Can’t say I’m much of a camper, but I’m going to reconsider that in a bid to increase my reputation as the Ghost Cacther Supreme – Poland’s only ghost festival is held here each year, and resident spooks include Henryk the Bearded and Queen Bona Szfora, a crafty bird accused of murder.
There is also an ulterior motive to visit this town, and that’s Villa Czersk, a landmark restaurant that drips with extravagance. Any restaurant with a jacuzzi in the ladies gets my approval, and while the lamb looked like an axe victim the fish, smoked with cherry wood, was among the best I’ve had in Poland. Brilliant stuff.
Add your comment
|
|
