Perhaps the worst sushi I’ve ever had.

Emma striking a pose in the surprisingly comfy "mod" chairs in our hotel.

Don’t come to Gdansk for the sushi.  At least, not if you’re going to eat at the little sushi restaurant across from the Mercure Hevelius hotel.  The edamame were brownish and withered, the sushi was warmish, the saki seemed watered down.  They serve “meat” sushi … As Emma pondered, was any Japanese person even connected with this restaurant?

But do come to Gdansk for the beauty of the city, the amplitude of amber, and the recent historical site of Solidarnosc’s beginning.

(More pictures of Gdansk here.)

We got here yesterday afternoon, but even so, we enjoyed ourselves walking through the incredibly beautiful streets—all reconstructed after Gdansk was destroyed in WWII.  The facades are lovely, and what's more impressive is the sheer number of obviously prosperous streets, from the city's heyday as a rich and bustling port.  One house has been maintained with much of the interior furnishings and decorations intact, so we took a look inside.  As in Amsterdam, the houses were taxed based on how wide they were, so most buildings are skinny and tall. 

Inside the incredibly huge St. Mary's Church--the largest brick church in  the world.  

From the top of the tower of  the St. Mary church.

(Speaking of skinny and tall … This morning at breakfast Emma and I noticed a number of very tall, skinny young men wearing jackets that identified them as members of some national teams:  Italy, Brazil, Bulgaria.  We amused ourselves by going over to get some juice and standing next to them—we looked so shrimpy in comparison!  As we guessed, they are members of volleyball teams, obviously playing in some tournament.)

The amber museum (which we saw today) was very interesting, although few of the placards were in English.  There was amber with bugs in it, an explanation of all the different colors of amber, maps of  the ancient trade routes for amber, and lots of things made from amber—both historic and modern.  About 75% of today’s amber comes from Poland, and apparently it sometimes just washes up on the shore after a storm.

Of course, we ourselves had already made a few amber purchases yesterday—and some of them were from the Wydra Gallery!  We saw the sign as we were walking along, and we had to go in and shop.  I asked why the store was called “Wydra,” and the explanation was that it was the name of the owners.  A few  minutes later, a portly gentleman came out to meet us—Mr. Wydra.  Of course, we couldn’t really say anything, but laughed and shook hands and said “Do widzenia” before going on our way.

Yesterday we also visited a surprisingly moving museum on the political history of Poland between 1956 and 1989, specifically, workers' riots, Solidarity and the events leading up to the fall of communism.  I have to admit that one of my favorite parts was the restroom, because it was right next to another room showing what public restrooms *used* to look like—which wasn’t all that different from the grotty restrooms at a few cheap bars I’ve seen.  But really, the museum was incredible because it showed footage from all the major events and had all sorts of artifacts from Solidarity, including the pieces of plywood that the striking shipyard workers wrote their demands on.

You can also see the gates of the Gdansk Shipyard (Stocznia Gdanska), where Solidarity was born.  It’s still adorned with a picture of the pope.  Next to the shipyard is a hugely tall monument to the shipyard workers killed during the strike in 1970, when at least 44 people were killed.

Now there's a souvenir shop outside the Gdansk shipyard ...

My biggest achievement of the day was figuring out how to get to our next destination, Ruciane Nida.  We worked our way through several travel offices until we found some nice people who speak English who were willing to help us research the transportation options.  But even they sort of threw up their hands—apparently, this is the sort of place one usually drives to.  Oops.  But I went online and found a train connection myself, and then carefully wrote down all the information in Polish and went to the train station.  To quote Rick Steves, “Ticket and ‘information’ windows are more often than not staffed by monolingual grouches,” but despite a few annoyed looks I managed to get what I needed.  I think.  We’ll see what happens when we show up for the train on Wednesday.