The sun is drawing to an end as long shadows are cast across the street. My wife and I leave our hotel on Józefa Sarego Street and walk along the border of the Kazimierz District, a walk that has become very familiar these last four days. I relish the moment, knowing it will be my last on this sidewalk. We cross beneath the train tracks and arrive at the corner of Grzegórzecka Street. I have one final wish while in Kraków, and that is to visit the blue kiełbasa van.
I read about it online. Some guy shows up every evening between 8:00 pm and 2:00 am in a blue Nysa van and grills up kiełbasa sausages. He's so popular that crowds line up to buy.
We arrive at the spot and as expected there is a short line for the savory links of meat. There, parked on the sidewalk, is the famous blue van. Nysa vans are a relic from the communist era in Poland. They were produced in the city of Nysa and production reached its peak in the late 1970's. When Poland became a democracy the demand for the Nysa began to plummet as the people preferred the safer and more efficient western cars.
An older man with a gray stubble beard and blue ball cap stands outside the van holding two skewers loaded with sausages over an open flame. Next to him are crates full of wood to stoke the fire. I notice that attached to the van is a retracted canopy he can pull out for shelter if it starts to rain. On this evening the skies are mostly clear.
I stand in line and watch the old man as he turns the skewers over the fire, the sausages sizzling and becoming darker. A younger guy moves in and out of the van, assisting the old man. I hear chatter among the people in front of me in line, and between the two kiełbasa men, and I understand none of it.
A few feet away from the van stands a tall folding table with a wooden top and no chairs. With my new meal in-hand, I walk over to the table and begin to eat with six other strangers. This is a bizarre, but interesting experience. I don't know where anyone is from because no one is speaking. We all eat in silence.
The sun has set and the lights of Krakow now illuminate the streets. A blue tram comes down the road and inside I see rows of weary travelers, heads down, waiting for their destination.
On the window of the van a menu is posted. There are only five items: kielbasa and roll, 17 złoty; kielbasa (only), 15 złoty; orange drink, 5 złoty; tea, 5 złoty; and packaging (to go), 1 złoty. Of course, it's all in Polish, but I am able to understand.
I stand in line and watch the old man as he turns the skewers over the fire, the sausages sizzling and becoming darker. A younger guy moves in and out of the van, assisting the old man. I hear chatter among the people in front of me in line, and between the two kiełbasa men, and I understand none of it.
The line moves quickly and it doesn't take long before I'm at the front. In basic English (of which he understands), I point to the top menu item and say, “Kiełbasa and roll.” I give him 17 złoty and in return he places one perfectly charred kiełbasa onto a flimsy plate with a kaiser roll and a dollop of mustard.
A few feet away from the van stands a tall folding table with a wooden top and no chairs. With my new meal in-hand, I walk over to the table and begin to eat with six other strangers. This is a bizarre, but interesting experience. I don't know where anyone is from because no one is speaking. We all eat in silence.
With a plastic knife and fork I cut off a thick slice of kiełbasa and dip it into the mustard. It is still hot from the flames and very smokey. The outer edge is crispy and slightly tough, while the middle is thick and meaty, much more dense than the kiełbasa sausages sold in the States. I then follow it with a bite of bread.
I am hungry enough I have no problem finishing off the 8-inch long sausage. It is well worth all 17 złoty I paid for it. I now wish I would have bought the orange drink.
The sun has set and the lights of Krakow now illuminate the streets. A blue tram comes down the road and inside I see rows of weary travelers, heads down, waiting for their destination.
Jenelle and I have 20 złoty left and set out to find some ice cream or some other Polish treat. Tomorrow we will leave for good, so we need to spend what we have. It is a perfect ending to a pleasant stay in Kraków. ♠
