Hala Gwardia, Hala Mirowska

Having written about Koszyki last Friday, it's time to write about the other two surviving enclosed markets of Warsaw - Hala Mirowska and Hala Gwardii, also built around the turn of the 19th and 20th centuries. The two buildings can be treated as one complex, they are separated by a market square (built over with small shops in the 1960s) but were architecturally identical originally.

Part of Śródmieście Północ, the two buildings lie between al. Jana Pawła II and ul. Ptasia, which leads towards ul. Marszałkowska. Below: the eastern end of Hala Gwardii, currently undergoing external restoration. Inside, it's been turned into an organic and regional food bazaar (closed this evening). Between 2002 and 2005 I worked just around the corner from here, on ul. Zimna, so I knew these buildings well. Hala Gwardii has changed in terms of the retail experience, Hala Mirowska retains that old-school feel. The Vietnamese restaurant, Asia Tasty (that does the best pho in town) is still there, on the corner nearest the camera). Inside Hala Gwardii I could espy a craft ale shop.

Below: looking at the western end of Hala Gwardii. In communist times, a sports centre, with a focus on boxing. The 1953 European Amateur Boxing Championships took place here, two months after Stalin shuffled off this mortal coil. (Poland came first in the medals table; England fourth).

Below: the eastern entrance of Hala Mirowska, which has had an external facelift, though internally is pretty much as I remember it in 2004. The contrast between the two buildings is stark; one has been immaculately restored - the other has shrubs growing out of its upper stories.

Below: the western entrance of Hala Mirowska, somewhat spoilt by an incongruous modernist box shoved onto the elevation. The 1960s annex could not clash more with the neo-romanesque original. The pavement along the east side of al. Jana Pawła II from Park Mirowski to ul. Elektoralna is packed with flower stalls. Incidentally, the Warsaw district of Mirów from which Hala Mirowska gets its name was itself named after Gen. William Mier McDuff (1680-1758), the Scottish creator of the Polish royal cavalry guards regiment, which had its barracks and stables on this site.

Below: inside Hala Mirowska. The ground floor is dominated by a Społem supermarket - Poland's answer to the Co-op; nothing amazing but all the essentials and a few luxuries are here. Surrounding the Społem are lots of old-school retailers selling all kinds of goods and services including wicker baskets and traditional tablecloths.

Below: the northern elevation of Hala Mirowska; the brickwork and iron-and-glass ceiling very much of its time; I am minded of Covent Garden, Smithfields and Billingsgate, the great covered markets of Victorian London.

The war did not spare Hala Mirowska and Hala Gwardii; both were severely damaged. Below: a fragment of wall left unrestored, with bullet holes in the brickwork. It was here, against these very walls, on 7-8 August 1944 that the Germans massacred 510 civilians. The buildings themselves were bombed and burned.

Restored in 2011, Hala Mirowska still caters for Warsaw's older, less well-off residents, while Hala Gwardii contains an offer aimed at a more youthful and wealthier clientele, though sadly it was closed this evening. Worth a visit - not just for the shopping, but for the architecture and history.

This time last year:
Four stations between Piaseczno and Czachówek

This time four years ago:
A tragedy foretold [Putin's masacre of 280 civilians over East Ukraine]

Ogórek by the Palace of Culture

On my way to work today from W-wa Śródmieście across the coach terminal in front of the Palace of Culture - a double-take in the week the internet brought us the Chinese floating city and the Back To The Future 2 hoverboard - a floating hoverbus? No - this is the back end of the Jelcz 043 bus - a common sight in communist Poland. Built under licence from Škoda, it is characterised by its long rear overhang, making the rear seats a bad choice for passengers with motion sickness.

This particular bus on heritage black on yellow heritage number plates has been beautifully restored and looks the piece parked outside the Palace of Culture. Were it not for the resolutely 21st Century backdrop of Złota 44, Warsaw Financial Centre and Q22 (under construction to the right), plus the cars, this scene could have been taken 50 years ago.

Good to see that enthusiasts are keeping these wonderful old vehicles going. Nicknamed ogórek or 'cucumber', the best time to see and indeed ride on this bus is during Warsaw's Noc Muzeów ('Museum Night') when fleets of Ogórki ferry participants from museum to museum free of charge.

This time four years ago:
Autumnal dusk, Jeziorki

This time eight years ago:
Autumn sun going out

Crumbling King Coal - Katowice

Shot from the train from Wrocław to Katowice... scenes like this I associate with the early years of political and economic transformation in Poland, and yet, here we are, nearly a decade into EU membership, and yet this is the image that visitors get of Poland's coal mining heartland.

One would think that high global prices for scrap iron and steel, driven by China's insatiable appetite for raw materials, coupled with developers' desire for prime brownfield sites by the railway tracks (with EU funds available for redevelopment) would have cleared this mess years ago.

This is the Kleofas coal mine, closed down in 2004. It is part of Katowicki Holding Węglowy, a state-owned company. Poland's equivalent of the National Audit Office, NIK, was scathing about KHW in a report published this year - criticising the company for numerous occasions on which squandered public money on jollies for trade unionists, foreign trips, gifts and alcohol.

What's state-owned is nobody's, no one is in a hurry to get things done. Keep the gravy train rolling, jobs for the boys, whether those jobs add value to the economy or not. It is a wonder that so many companies remain state-owned in Poland, considering the contrast between the efficiency of privately-owned and what is still administered by the state treasury.

When there's a general lack of public money for healthcare or nursery education, why is taxpayers' money being spent on these dinosaurs?

High time to get to grips with these industries and clean up Katowice (where people still burn coal to keep their tenements warm, with resultant clouds of black smoke billowing all over the city centre).

Scenes like this project a poor image of the country to passing rail passengers. The Ministry of the State Treasury should step in to move things along at a faster pace.

This time last year:
Street cries of Old Poland

This time two years ago:
The gorgeousness of Warsaw at dusk

This time three years ago:
I'm so glad I'm living in Warsaw

This time four years ago:
Candid photography

This time five years ago:
Archival photos of Jeziorki's Rampa in action

This time six years ago:
Red sky in the morning...

How old must a place be to be cherished?

Polish cities have their medieval Old Towns, Łódź has its 19th C. industrial district, with the lovingly-restored Manufaktura at its heart; numerous skansens recreate earlier times. All enjoy popularity and are protected by the konserwator zabytków ('keeper of monuments'). But one form of historical building, unique to this part of the world, which does not - as yet - enjoy the undivided support of the local population - is that which arose under communism.

As that period recedes into memory, there are still islands of it about, even in prosperous Warsaw; places that give visitors a taste of what it once must have been live to have lived in a system hallmarked by absurdity and man's inhumanity to man*.

One such place - I've mentioned it before - is Warszawa Zachodnia station - indeed both the railway station (Dworzec Zachodni) and the PKS bus terminal. If you can ignore the crowded car park full of new(ish) Audis, BMWs and Volkswagens, the modern-day dress of most people passing through and their use of mobile phones, the entire area can give you an excellent feel of the early period of transition from communism to the free market. (Indeed, the railway station offers hardly any sops to modernity.)

Join me then, for a tour of Zachodnia...

Above: at eye level - modern cars, ads featuring website addresses, contemporary fashion. But look up a bit - or down - and the scene's much as it would have been in the late1960s.

This is the 1960s office block overlooking W-wa Zachodnia PKS bus station. The aerials on the roof belong to mobile phone operators, but on top of this tower, but they could be imagined as secret spy antennae eavesdropping on citizens below.

The passage between the bus station and the railway station (above); full of klimat in its own right. I've mentioned Bar na luzie before; a not-to-be-missed drinking spot if you have a while between connections and a sense of humour and you don't mind Królewskie beer.

Above: local flavour - an old tyre, a discarded boot, empty vodka and beer bottles. Evidence of Pan Heniek and Pan Ziutek at work.

Above: the railway station. A real, live, working railway museum. It gives that interactive passenger experience of what it was like to travel by train in communist days. "Bing-bong! The Koleje Mazowieckie train to Radom via Piaseczno and Warka is about to leave Track 1 on Platform 6" (waits for every passenger to make their way there). And then just as the train is pulling into the station... "Bing-bong! The Koleje Mazowieckie train to Radom via Piaseczno and Warka is about to leave Track 21 on Platform 3." Panic as everyone surges across down the stairs into the tunnel and across to Platform 3. Only the strong and the fleet of foot make it before the Radom train pulls out. Śmierc frajerom.

Around this time last year, I delved deep into the underground passages of W-wa Centralna station. Zachodnia has its dark corners, closed off from unwarranted attention by a 'Brak przejścia' sign. At least there are no kebab factories down here!

* Old joke: "The capitalist system shows man's inhumanity to man. Under communism, comrades, it's the opposite!"

This time last year:
90 years ago today - Bolsheviks stopped at the gates of Warsaw

This time two years ago:
Kestrel

This time four years ago:
Armed forces day parade in Warsaw

By 'old school' I mean pre-war

Yesterday on Marszałkowska (the stretch between Pl. Zbawiciela and Pl. Konstytucji) I chanced upon this tempting display of shoe polish tins in a display cabinet built into a gateway. Five upturned tins, a faded photo of men's shoes. (Click to enlarge)

On the other side of the entrance, a more appealing display - some decent-looking footwear, perhaps the answer to what's lacking in this department here in Warsaw (see post about my shoes). Worth paying Pan Wielądek a visit to see what he can cobble together...

Good to see craft skills hanging on in spite of price competition from the Far East. Here and there, one can still find retailing that pre-dates communist state-owned shops and today's chain stores. Two doors further up Puławska, this tempting display (below). The word dziewiarstwo (męskie and damskie) was new to me; PWN Oxford defines it as 'knitwear'. So now you know!

Seeing these unremonted façades puts me in mind of Cuba; I've got Buena Vista Social Club music going around my head as I process these photos. Unusual association for Warsaw.

This time last year:
Britain chooses a coalition government

This time two years ago:
Landing over Ursynów

This time three years ago:
On being assertive in Poland

More old-school retailing

Step away from the Auchans, Reals, Carrefours and Tescos to get a glimpse of an idealised Poland in the 1980s, one where the State ran the shops and yet they were somehow full. So here we are in the Społem on Marszałkowska, next door to Warsaw's first-ever McDonalds. Twenty years on, and - despite the contemporary brands filling the shelves - a certain quaint old-school aura permeates this retail establishment. Click to enlarge the photo.

Look at the signage; POULTRY, SMOKE MEAT, SWEETS, PRESERVES, GOOD BECAUSE IT'S POLISH, HOUSEHOLD CHEMICALS, CHEESES. Staff and clientele are largely middle-aged or old (and this is the very centre of Warsaw). No tourists stray in here - a shame, as its an educational experience.

This is a supermarket within a department store on three levels, although there are some contemporary tenants around, it still has that PRL flavour about it. There's a fresh-squeezed juice stand (a plastic cup of carrot juice 3 złotys, beetroot juice 2.80 złotys). Worth a visit, though you need to imagine only one-tenth of what's currently on display being available on the shelves, circa 1989. Some more old-school retailing in Warsaw here and here.

This time last year:
Easter Sunday - Lent's over

This time two years ago:
Węzeł Lotnisko - site cleared, ready to start construction

This time three years ago:
Classic Polish cars - the Polski Fiat 125P

Oldschool Włochy

There are parts of Warsaw that I really don't know - because I have no occasion to go there. Yesterday morning, I had a business meeting in Włochy. Incidentally, Włochy in Polish also means Italy, although the two proper nouns decline differently . 'I'm going to Italy' - jadę do Włoch; 'I'm going to Włochy' - jadę do Włochów; 'I live in Italy' - mieszkam we Włoszech; "I live in Włochy' - mieszkam we Włochach*. It's confusing I know.

Getting to Włochy was easier than I thought. Koleje Mazowieckie train from W-wa Jeziorki to W-wa Zachodnia, platform change and a westbound SKM train (above) one to W-wa Włochy. Zachodnia is as bad as it ever was. Half the passengers on Platform 3 were asking the other half if this was the right platform for wherever they were going - zero signage, zero passenger information other than a crackly megaphone system.

Below: I arrive at Włochy station, built in the 1930s; here I come upon this lovely original signage with characteristic pre-war Polish typeface (note how the letter 'O' is wider than a 'W').
Unfortunately, there are no signs as to where the bus stops to different destinations are to be found.

[UPDATE 2023: the major revamp of Warsaw's suburban stations has led to the removal of the above sign. Fortunately, someone at PKP PLK has a sense of history, and the new dark-blue-on-white signs in the underground passage between platforms maintain the same typeface as the originals.

Włochy is as much a part of Warsaw as Ursynów, Żoliborz or Wilanów, and yet parts of it possess a very provincial atmosphere. Below: a two-story tenement, partially occupied by a police station. I learn a new Polish word: rewir (click on the pic below and zoom in on the red plaque). A rewir is a local beat, as in police. This police station would not look out of place in Kozienice.


Picking up on Paddy Ney's perennial subject of the Polish Babcia, here's a fine portait of fortitude and sub-zero stoicism walking past a bus stop in Włochy. The things she must have seen; the times she's lived through. Yet in her demeanour an indefatigable spirit - Hitler and Stalin had not cowed her, and neither will old age nor a -18C morn.

*This is like Praga, Polish for the Czech capital, and Praga, Warsaw's right-bank district. 'I'm going to Prague' - jadę do Pragi and 'I'm going to Praga' - jadę na Pragę. 'I live in Prague' is mieszkam w Pradze; 'I live in Praga' is mieszkam na Pradze.

This time three years ago:
Intimations of spring

Oldschool photochallenge: Response No. 2

Thanks to Paddy at Pozdrowienia z Ursynowa for this 1970s/80s style image for the Oldschool photochallenge. The idea is to capture today images that would not look out of place in the communist era.

I love this photo, taken in Warsaw last Tuesday. Click to enlarge. The resoluteness in the face of the woman contrasting with the resignedness in the face of the man; the composition - the gap between them; the bloki in the background; the feeling that the viewer is clearly separated from the two people by a sheet of glass - alienation in proximity. A stroke of luck, captured.

The key to great street photography is to take 100 images a day and whittle down the best two or three - and keep doing this for years. Here, Paddy has managed to snap one image in which so much is said about Poland and mankind. The middle ground between New York's glamorous rich and starving Sudan.

No penalties for photoshopping the pic to B&W. Stand back! Now it belongs to the ages.

Twilight of the Ikar

Above: This is an Ikarus (nicknamed 'Ikar' by Warsaw's bus spotters and users). Look carefully at this picture, dear reader, for this sight will soon become history. There are fewer and fewer Ikaruses in Warsaw's bus fleet, and they will all disappear by next summer, so as not to cause the city embarrassment when it hosts the Euro 2012 football championships. Ikaruses have already disappeared off the roster for weekend duties, and the 162* - a bus line I know well and use frequently - only uses Ikars during the rush hours. Otherwise, it's the more modern Solaris and MANs that ply the route, and far more comfortable they are too.

Above: An Ikar arrives at my bus stop. It is absolutely, solidly, rigidly jam-packed. At this stop, Śniegockiej, few passengers alight but many struggle to get on. Poles don't queue (unlike Brits); an unseemly scrum ensues to board this bus, won by those with the sharpest elbows and the most urgent journeys.

Above: Phew! I manage to get on, and two stops down the route the crowd thins out at PKP Powiśle. The Ikar rattles and shakes and its worn-out suspension; cold air and filthy exhaust fumes swirl inside through large gaps between the doors and windows. Hold on tight and hold your breath.

I have mixed feelings about the impending demise of the Ikar, a bus that dates back to the mid '70s, even though Warsaw's ones are mainly from the '90s. On the one hand, the modern buses are just so much more comfortable to ride in - even when packed with rush-hour passengers. On that same hand, to board an Ikar you have to take three steep steps (the floor is along the line between the red and yellow on the pic above). This makes it difficult for the disabled, the elderly and mums with prams to get on or off. On the other hand - the Ikar is iconic in an old-school Warsaw sort of way (incidentally, the above picture qualifies for the old school photo challenge).

Available in two flavours, the Ikarus 280 (bendy bus) and 260 (standard). According to Wikipedia, ZTM, Warsaw's bus operator has 209 of the bendy ones and 66 of the short ones out of a total of 1,403 buses. When we moved to Warsaw, anything other than an Ikarus was rather rare. While they are still around, we should snap them for posterity; they'll soon be gone.

*The 162, by the way, goes from Elektrociepłownia Siekierki to Targówek via deepest Praga. Smażymy wątróbki?

This time two years ago:
Jeziorki's wetlands in winter

This time three years ago:
A week into Lent

Oldschool photochallenge: Response No. 1

First response to the Oldschool photo challenge comes from Student SGH.

Caption? "Zakłady Lniarskie Orzeł in Mysłakowice, powiat jeleniogórski. The linen plant, set up around 1839 by Germans, was still operational then, it was declared bankrupt on 16 July 2010, its shares were listed on Warsaw Stock Exchange until 14 January 2011."

Excellent! This could be 1965, or 1957 even... Indeed, if it wasn't for the mountain in the background, I'd swear this was the legendary iron filings factory.

Oldschool photochallenge

Left: A Trabant on ul. Fabryczna yesterday; note white-on-black numberplates and the Niewiadów N250 trailer behind the car.

What struck me about this view is the total absense of any element in the picture that could place it any time later than 1991 (when Trabant production came to an end).

Time, I think, to fish out more photos, where car and background hark back to another age. Worldwide, the Trabant is probably the most iconic vehicle of the communist era, even though in Poland it was relatively rare compared to the Fiat 126P Maluch. Yet the Fiat 126's more modern design, and the fact that it was a familiar shape in western Europe, deprives it of icon status outside of Poland.

Right: another Trabant in Warsaw (photo from February 2008). This is ul. Rzymowskiego in lower Mokotów, not too far from Galeria Mokotów. Everything is right in this picture, down to the fetching shade of orange for the waste bin and the pre-MSI signage on the entrance to the flats, built of course using wielka płyta (pre-fabricated units).

Left: FSM Syrena 105 in Saska Kępa. The Syrena, an indigenous Polish design (both body and engine) was built in smaller numbers than the Trabant (half a million vs. three million) and was built mainly for the domestic market, so its communist cult car status is reserved for Poland; sadly the Syrena is not widely known abroad.

The 105, unlike its predecessors, had front-hinged doors. Nicknamed skarpeta ('sock') because, well, it looked like one. Or indeed, as some wags put it - because it smelled like one.

Above: Zielona Góra, January 2009. Another photo where nothing gives away modernity; this could be 1991 or even 1981. The Trabant is a late-model 1.1 Universal, or estate car (kombi). Like the Trabants above the 1.1 was powered by a VW Polo engine rather than the original wheezy and polluting two-stroke unit originally fitted to the Trabant 601 from 1963 to 1990.

Above: W-wa Zachodnia, 2009. Or 1989? Can you see any signs of modernity in this, Warsaw's (if not Poland's) worst railway station?

And so: a challenge to my fellow bloggers: Can you post a photo from present-day Poland that still reeks of the atmosphere of the communist era? Extra points if you can do so in Warsaw, rather than some miasto powiatowe in the middle of nowhere. Photos will be rigorously scrutinised for signs of modern advertising, signage, decoration, fashions, mobile telephony etc.

Original posts are here (Mokotów), here (Saska Kępa) and here (Zielona Góra).

This time last year:
Warsaw's wonderful nooks and crannies

This time three years ago:
Viaduct to the airport

Just like the old days

Here and there in Poland you can still find scenes redolent of the old days of communism. Above: The grain stores in Kraków, on ul. Mogilska. These drab brick warehouses put me in mind of childhood trips into Poland via Czechoslovakia. Nothing here has changed since the 1960s.

Flashbacks to the old days

I journeyed yesterday to Zielona Góra, probably the least-known Polish city in the least-known part of Poland (Lubuskie province). I boarded the EuroCity express from Warsaw to Poznań, changing there for a pospieszny (misnomer: the word in Polish means 'hurrying' train, this 80 mile journey took two and half hours). Shortly after leaving Poznań, I was jolted out of whatever reverie I was in by the sight of a real, live, working, scheduled service, steam train. Below: my first glimpse of Zielona Góra from my hotel room, early this morning. Gulp! Some kind of time warp! I've woken up in 1979! Solidarity and Marshal Law have yet to happen! (must buy some shares in that American computer start-up, Microsoft)

This time last year:
Wintery visit to Kraków
Kicking coffee in the run-up to Lent
Just before dawn, Ursynów
Trundling Tamara, Jeziorki
Pastel sunrise, Jeziorki
Frosty morning, Jeziorki
Gasping for a coffee

Classic Polish cars

A Polski Fiat 125P parked by the entrance to Warszawa WKD station. One of the truly iconic cars from the communist days. Once the grandest car a Pole could aspire to. It's a shame that Poland's road licensing authorities do not allow owners to keep period white-on-black number plates. When a car changes owners, it gets a new set of plates. In the UK, a car keeps the same plates for its entire life. So we can see in this case, the car has plates issued between April 2000 and May 2006 (when the Polish flag on blue background in the top left corner was replaced by EU stars). Classic cars can get special black-on-yellow plates (tablice zabytkowe), but only with permission of the Voivodship Conservator of Historic Monuments, and after going through a huge amount of bureaucratic procedures. In the UK, all you need to do is to have a car built before 1973, and you a) pay no road tax and b) get cheap classic car insurance.

Old school Łódź

This is how much of Łódź looked just a few years ago (above). With the exception of the city's main drag, ul. Piotrkowska, the rest of the place was an utter dump. As an American once told me, "This is what most of my fellow countrymen imagine all of Poland to be like - drab, post-industrial decay". While central Warsaw has one street like this (ul. Próżna), downtown Łódź still has block after block of crumbling tenements.

Below: More old-schoolery. This is a communist era "advert" (like, people had a choice) for Pewex, as it says above the logo, the "Enterprise for Internal Export". This was indeed an oxymoronic business that officially fleeced Poles of the hard currency they weren't supposed to have anyway. Pewex shops were always full of Marlboro, Johnny Walker, Levis, Metaxa, Heineken, Lego sets - "luxury goods" that were unavailable in ordinary shops. It's been many years since they went out of business, this mural is a faded reminder of a bright spot in an otherwise drab existence in People's Poland.

Another old-school shop in Warsaw

Across the road from Warsaw's Sheraton Hotel is a cooperative food store that goes under the Społem brand, (indeed one of over 4,000 such shops around Poland). Społem, or to give its full name, the National Supervision Union of Consumer Co-operatives (KZRSS) "Społem", is a real throw-back to the old days.

Well, there are still Co-ops in the UK, so I won't labour the anachronism point. But once upon a time, Społem was the state monopolist on all food retailing. Well do I remember entering these shops in the 1980s. All that was available was vinegar, matches, baking soda, parcel string, scouring powder, bottles of fizzy mineral water with rusty caps... er, that's it. Things changed; foreign players - Tesco, Carrefour, Real, Biedronka and dozens of others entered the Polish market, but Społem is still with us.

Let's analyse the shop front. A sign says POLECAMY MROŻONKI (WE RECOMMEND FROZEN PRODUCE). Potential customers are wooed with the come-hither slogan: WARZYWA OWOCE W CIĄGŁEJ SPRZEDAŻY (FRUIT VEGETABLES ON SALE CONTINUOUSLY). A hand-written sign announces January's key name-days; an aide memoire to persuade the local Eugeniuszes, Bogumiłas and Rajmunds (and friends thereof)* to pop in for a celebratory box of Ptasie Mleczko. This gauche lack of retail sophistication is rather nice to see these days.

There's much charm in these post-communist throwbacks; Warsaw would be a duller city without them. Click here for another old-school Warsaw shopping experience.

* These first names are almost exclusive to Poland's over-70s.