Trip to Krakow!

Getting to Krakow from Bratislava or Vienna is a pain in the ass. There are no flights at all, direct or otherwise, from Bratislava, while flights from Vienna generally seem to run $350 per person at least, which is totally outrageous given that it's an hour-long flight and that, as the crow flies, Krakow is really no further away from Bratislava/Vienna than Kosice or Prague. Trains are also problematic. If you ride during the day, it's an epic, snail-paced 8-10 hour journey involving multiple transfers. However, since night trains run regularly from Bratislava (starting in Budapest), we eventually had to accept the fact that if we were ever going to see Krakow and not spend a fortune getting there, we would have to take the night train.

I suspect Krakow is so difficult to get to from here simply because there is not enough traffic between the two regions and therefore not enough demand to warrant cheaper, more frequent or direct flights, or faster/more direct trains, which is puzzling since having now been there, I can say that it's definitely a destination worth going to.

At any rate, I can add trains to the list of moving objects (which includes airplanes, cars, etc.) in which I am unable to sleep. The bunks were clean and just barely spacious enough, and while they were not what anyone would consider comfortable, per se, they were at least not painful. But even with a prescription sleeping pill and ear plugs, the constant bouncing, lurching, and frequent stopping made it difficult to get any kind of meaningful shuteye. Terezia slept okay, though, but she usually sleeps like a rock. The train left Bratislava around 11PM and we rolled into Krakow at 6:45 the next morning.

When we walked out of the extremely conveniently located main train station and passed under the street into the old town, the sun was only just starting to rise, and the dim, misty sky seemed to really suit the atmosphere of the medieval town. Krakow was just waking up, which is what we still needed to do, so we nabbed some front window seats at a cafe on the sprawling Main Market Square and took in the view.

St. Mary's cathedral on the main square

Rick Steves has called Krakow Central Europe's second Prague, and that's partly what drew us to the place. We both go gaga for cities with lots of well preserved medieval and renaissance architecture, like Prague, and we'd heard nothing but positive things about Krakow from numerous people. It struck me as more of a low key Prague: not as dramatically over-the-top stunning (Prague's spire-studded skyline is hard to beat), but still quite beautiful, atmospheric, oozing history, and perfect for aimless strolling.

What Krakow does have over Prague, however, are fewer tacky tourist trinket shops littering some of the major arteries. Krakow has some, just not as extreme as the nauseating kaleidoscope of souvenir vomit that you see along Karlova in Prague.

Krakow's Main Market Square is massive - the largest medieval town square in Europe - and in the center of it is the Cloth Hall, a beautifully ornate Renaissance-era market hall, the inside of which is unfortunately lined with vendors selling tourist crap. But that's okay - at least it keeps the trashy tourist tchotchkies off the street and out of sight.

Krakow's main square and Cloth Hall

The square is lined with gorgeous facades - some stately and neoclassical, others more flamboyantly gothic or baroque. It's a great place for people-watching, too - probably better in the summer.

St. Mary's cathedral towers over the northeastern corner of the square. While not as dazzling as Prague's Tyn cathedral, it's still quite a fetching structure, with an ornately detailed interior, the centerpiece of which is this massive and intricate 15th-century wooden altarpiece by Veit Stoss. I do have to say, however, that the cathedrals in Krakow are fairly non-tourist-friendly. For example, none of them allow photos, and the St. Francis church, which all the guidebooks list as an absolute must-see for its unique melding of gothic and art nouveau, was full of people praying, genuflecting, lining up for pre-xmas confession (that is something catholics do, apparently), and giving stern or disapproving looks to tourists like us, who were clearly not there to do the same. And this interior really was unique - I suppose it goes to show just how seriously catholic the Poles are. Unlike the Italians, they seem reluctant to share their historical churches - which are still very much in use - with the tourist industry.

The streets that take you off the main square are all pretty consistently attractive. While their facades run the gamut from medieval to renaissance to a kind of 19th-century eclecticism, there's almost no post-WWII intrusion to speak of (except for this). It is thoroughly amazing that Krakow survived WWII and communism pretty much unscathed. What's also nice, however, is that the historical facades aren't too pristine or whitewashed. Many have obviously been restored, but there are still many others that look beautifully worn down and ooze character.

Wawel castle, which overlooks the town, perched on a small hill, is quite striking, and its cathedral, a crazy mishmash of architectural styles, is packed with ornate tombs, and is a who's who of important Polish historical figures. The hill also offers views over parts of the city that most tourists wouldn't dare to tread.

The one thing that we couldn't help noticing was that Krakow is a big university town. It seemed like at any time of the day the streets were teeming with university aged kids. It almost felt like we were on a university campus. Going on what we saw, one would think the average age of the city's inhabitants was about 20. This, of course, seems to give Krakow its pulse, and it also seems to go someway toward making Krakow feel a bit more "with it" culturally.

That culture came out in spades in the Kazimierz district, a soot-stained, endearingly worn down borough, which for centuries was the district where the city's Jewish community resided. The Jewish presence is still very much there, with old synagogues and klezmer music venues seemingly on every corner, as well as two Jewish cemeteries. But Kazimierz also has a bit of that offbeat gentrified hipster neighborhood vibe, so it's definitely the place to go when you're in need of good cafes decked out in cool and kitschy mismatched vintage furniture, hip vintage clothing stores, junk shops, and trendy modern restaurants.

A quiet corner of the Kazimierz district

But there is a palpable working class vibe there as well, particularly in the neighborhood's center at the Plac Nowy market, where you can buy cheap street food like Polish staple zapiekanki. In fact, the zapiekanki that we ordered (on two occasions) from the Endzior stall was some of the best food we had the entire trip. Zapiekanki are long, toasted, open-face baguettes with an array of different toppings. We chose one with sautéed mushrooms, spinach, and a garlic and a hot chili sauce. It was surprisingly rich and flavorful, the ingredients were piled kind of high, and I love how it's damn near impossible to eat one of these things without getting it all over your upper lip, yet the vendor only gives you little squares of wax paper for napkins. At 8 zloty (about $2.65), they're dirt cheap, too, and we found them to be large enough so that we could just order one and split it!

Terezia enjoying a delicious zapiekanka at the Plac Nowy market

As for food in Krakow, the non-zapiekanki choices were hit and miss. Krakow appears to suffer somewhat from a lot of restaurants that are trying to be upscale and international, yet their cooks lack the skills to really pull it off. In fact, it seemed like the cheaper, more student-y food options wound up being the best. While a restaurant called Aperitif, touted by several travel guides, basically sucked, I had some of the best falafel in my life at a cheap vegetarian restaurant that we stumbled on just outside the historical center.

We also strolled through Kazimierz's New Jewish cemetery, which should really be called "newer," because it's still fairly old (people started to be buried there around 1800). The Nazis vandalized this cemetery, but thankfully didn't annihilate it. Like other old Jewish cemeteries in Europe, a lot of the headstones are densely clustered, shooting out of the ground at odd angles. This is probably the biggest Jewish cemetery I've seen in Europe - the lot actually went pretty far back.

The "New" Jewish cemetery in Kazimierz

The area around the historical center, including Kazimierz, was pretty interesting and (much like Kazimierz) had a lot of soot-stained, beautifully detailed 19th century facades with cracks and chunks of missing plaster. This ring was way more consistently 19th century than the same ring that encircles Bratislava's historical center. A colleague of mine told me about a very cool bookstore/cafe just to the east of the historical center called Massolit, which sells used books in English and has kind of a nice Berkeley vibe. Definitely a place worth checking out.

Our hotel was noteworthy for many reasons (like its excellent central location), but mainly for the awesome, faded, and water-stained art nouveau designs painted on the walls of the cool stairwell.

More examples here and here.


Auschwitz

We spent one day of our trip visiting Auschwitz, since it is fairly close to Krakow. The trip requires the better part of a day: the bus ride from Krakow to Auschwitz alone takes about an hour and 45 minutes, and you can easily spend several hours at the Auschwitz I camp before moving on to nearby Birkenau.

Even if you are aware of everything that what went on in these camps, it's still a deeply moving experience to actually walk through the halls of these barracks and see the faces of the prisoners whose portraits line the walls. They look so uncertain, a bit frightened or nervous, but still trying to stay composed even though their heads have just been shaved and they're wearing prison stripe uniforms despite the fact that many had been told they were simply being relocated. Absolutely devastating.

Prosthetic limbs, crutches, and braces at Auschwitz

Seeing the execution wall was also really intense, as was the first gas chamber/crematorium. The material evidence bunker is particularly noteworthy, since that's where they keep the massive piles of spectacles, suitcases, shoes, clothing, and prosthetic limbs and braces that were taken from those who were imprisoned.

Birkenau has much less in the way of exhibits, but I think part of the point is just to show how mind bogglingly sprawling it is. As soon as you walk through the gate and look out at the fields behind it, you see acres and acres of chimney-studded fields, with many of the surrounding wooden barracks having burned down or collapsed. A row of these toward the front remains, however, and by the time the Nazis were using these wooden stables to house their victims, they were cutting so many corners that the original two-level brick bunkers almost look cozy and inviting by comparison. In particular, seeing the row of latrines, which is just a long ditch with holes in the cover, was pretty horrifying, as was the method of heating - a fireplace at one end attached to a lengthy hearth that ran horizontally all the way to the back of the stable. People had to sit on these for warmth in the totally uninsulated structures.

The slightly earlier brick structures at Birkenau were similarly squalid, cramped, and dehumanizing. The remains of the larger gas chambers and crematoriums at the back of Birkenau are still there, left in heaps of rubble after the Nazis bombed them to destroy evidence.

What was truly bizarre to me was to discover that there were clusters of modern residential houses just beyond the wall behind Birkenau, which had clear views of the destroyed crematoriums and gas chambers. Call me crazy, but who would want to live right behind Birkenau? How do you tell your friends and colleagues about the house you just bought with views over the death camp? I can't help but think that living in such close proximity to one of the most infamous symbols of the Holocaust would put a damper on any backyard barbecue parties, not to mention have a negative impact on the property value.

The dark grey cloud of death that the bus between Auschwitz and Birkenau was belching out seemed to indicate that Poland's laws on vehicle emissions are really lax. I swear, when we stepped off this thing, I felt like I was wading through a sea of dry ice at a rock concert. Adding insult to injury, the bus was idling when we got on, and with all three doors open, all it took was a light breeze to blow the fumes straight into the bus. The driver was apparently not in the least bit phased by the prospect of killing his passengers by carbon monoxide poisoning.

The bus ride between Krakow and Auschwitz was initially interesting because it gave us a glimpse of Krakow's outer layers, and we got to see a few communist-era monstrosities, in addition to some communist-era panelaks and these sort of sooty, dark grey apartment blocks built shortly after WWII that I like to call proto-panelaks, which we have a lot of here in Bratislava. Also, like I mentioned above, a lot of 19th-century buildings still survive. However, the countryside outside the city was oppressively dull, and kind of reminded me of parts of Ohio or something.

Back to Krakow

I was surprised at how close the Polish language is to Slovak. The two languages are technically not mutually intelligible, and they have some different letters and accents, but Terezia was able to interact with several Poles, with them understanding her Slovak and she understanding their Polish. When I would listen to Polish people converse around me, I could make out a lot of words that are very similar to or pretty much the same in Slovak. Neat!

Empty concrete planter boxes and a Trabant - it doesn't get much more communist than that!

Anyhow, I can definitely see us wanting to go back to Krakow and explore it further. It certainly has more to see, like the massive Nowa Huta communist-era residential development, Podgorze (the site where Krakow's Jews were corralled in WWII and Schindler's factory), and other areas around the historical center.  Plus, it would be nice to see this city in the summer when the sun is out. Traveling in the winter is doable as long as there's not a blizzard, but it can still be too cold to actually sit outside and people-watch and absorb the scenery.

For a smaller city (albeit bigger than Bratislava), it has a fair amount to offer. We liked how it managed to come across as reasonably cosmopolitan despite existing in such a catholic and conservative country. It has a nice pulse and a pleasantly laid back vibe, as well as enclaves that seem fairly "with it" and hip, which is something I can't quite say about Bratislava. We give Krakow two thumbs up, which means we'll have to endure more sleepless nights on the night train.

See the whole set of Krakow photos here!

Apartment found!

So, against all odds, we managed to find an apartment in this town without any glaring flaws, and in an area that we like that's really only a five minute walk from where we currently live, and still on the edge of the pedestrianized historical center. We think we'll be a lot happier here than in the current, drab place.

We met the owner (he's a nice guy) and signed the lease, but it all feels a bit anticlimactic since we can't actually move in until January 1. We initially could have moved in at the start of December, but the apartment that the current tenants are moving into is apparently not going to be ready until the 15th, and the owner needs time to clean the place up and whatnot, so January 1 it is.

Of course, that means we have to spend one more month here on Dunajska, where passersby relieve themselves in broad daylight around the base of the building and drunken louts wail tunelessly into the evening in hoarse slivovice-roughened voices. But at least the owner of our current apartment was kind enough to let us stay an extra month beyond our lease, so we're not camping out on the street or anything.

The new place is in the neighborhood around Medená, which is just spitting distance from the historical Hviezdoslavovo square, in a building constructed around 1920. The area should be a lot quieter - the windows all face mellow, sort of non-street areas, so no more being awakened at the crack of dawn by loud, beeping Tesco delivery trucks. One side of the building faces a little, elevated triangular island with trees and vegetation that has apparently become the de facto neighborhood dog toilet. But hey, that's a step up from living in a building that has become the de facto neighborhood people toilet!
 

I'll bore you with a more detailed post about this place when we actually move into it.

It came down to deciding between this apartment and a really nice flat over on busy Obchodna. But the one we chose had the edge, partly due to it being in a nicer, quieter neighborhood, but also due to some other factors that I won't bore you with here. One on Sládkovičova - the "myopic landlord" apartment in this post - was a contender as well, especially given that it's in one of my favorite neighborhoods, but Terezia felt that the quasi ground floor windows would make us feel sort of exposed. 

So, hurray for us. Hopefully when we move in the owner won't have covered all the hardwood floors with wall-to-wall baby shit brown carpeting, swapped out all the furniture for threadbare 1970s-era crap from his grandmother's panelak, and replaced all the doors with those sliding vinyl accordion thingies.

Building codes? Who needs building codes?

Living in cities where people blatantly violate building codes can be fun, and Bratislava is no exception. A colleague of mine brought this one to my attention. The front of this unfinished building on Šancová (a few blocks away from the main train station) hangs over the sidewalk to such a degree that it engulfs a street lamp and brushes up against another. Not surprisingly, the building has been left in this incomplete state for a long time.

Of course, this particular situation raises the question (well, several questions, really): if construction on this building is ever resumed and completed, will this protruding overhang serve as a balcony, or will there be a wall that will have to engulf the lamp post as well?

I love how construction of this building even got as far as it did. I wouldn't be surprised if its construction was halted for reasons far sketchier than this street lamp issue. I'm sure the street lamp was just the icing on the cake. 

Bratislava Apartment Hunt 2012!™ - Part 3

Before I get into our third and final installment of this series, I feel oddly compelled to share how the other day, when looking down from our kitchen window, Terezia and I saw an inebriated woman taking a dump on the common patio area right behind our building. Have I mentioned that we're looking forward to moving?

Grandma's communist pad: We were shown this apartment by a friend of a friend of a friend. He knew we wouldn't be interested in it, but we thought we'd check it out anyhow, because looking at apartments is kind of fun. This guy's mother had lived in this apartment for a while until she passed away a few years ago, but his brother doesn't want to sell it, so they are trying to rent it out instead.

I didn't have my camera with me, but I will do my darnedest to paint as vivid a picture of this place as I possibly can.

Let's start with the kitchen. Every inch of counter and cupboard surface was coated in a fake, worn grey marble-patterned formica, while the cupboard doors and even the drawers all had strips of gold tinted aluminum border inlays for added flair. Directly over the sink, however, was one cabinet door inset with glass, and in the center it had a clock set into it with the numbers glued directly onto the glass in a circle around the hands. The faucet had two enormous round meters affixed to the hot and cold water levers. The space between the top of the cabinets and the ceiling was lined with half empty bottles of various types of hard liquor.

Most of the doors in the apartment had been removed and replaced with those sliding grey vinyl accordion style doors that move back and forth along a track in the ceiling.

In the living room, a dining area was separated from the area with the couch and TV by a massive, floor-to-ceiling glass partition, framed by panels of wood that were painted a shiny black. The wall behind the dining table was lined wall to wall and floor to ceiling with old books. The 40 year old TV sat in a large, 80s-era entertainment center/book shelf that was similarly crammed with old books, as well as piles of old blank cassettes. The massive sofa was a very 1970s beige intercut with horizontal strips of dark brown pleather. A random assortment of paintings covered much of the available wall space, some of which were apparently done by a family member, and appeared to depict abstract raccoon faces done in vibrant air-brushed pastels.

The apartment had a balcony, which looked down onto a sort of brutalist "garden", which was mainly sad bits of plants engulfed by big, grey, blocky concrete planters.

Despite the obvious, um... let's say eccentricities, the place actually felt quite warm and cozy. Clearly not something we would want to live in, but the kind of place you could imagine your grandmother living in in 1980s communist Czechoslovakia. I know a few people who would probably consider living here voluntarily just on the abundant kitsch factor.

The tree house: This place was on Lazaretska and had great views overlooking the picturesque, tree-filled Jakubovo square. The building was somewhat old, and the apartment was nestled high in the fourth floor attic space.

While the views from some of the windows were quite nice, the severely angled a-frame ceilings - as a result of it being in the attic space - posed a bit of a problem. Since Terezia and I are both around 6' tall, we'd run the risk of hitting our heads on the sloping, 45 degree angle ceiling. The worst instance of this was in the bedroom, where whoever gets the left side of the bed would have to duck down really low when getting up so as to avoid bashing his or her head into the ceiling. I think we both envisioned a heated game of rock-scissors-paper to decide who'd get that side of the bed. I've already killed enough brain cells with all the homemade gut rot I've had to endure in this country, so I don't want to make matters worse. I suppose I could wear a bicycle helmet to bed so that I don't have to worry about slamming my head into the ceiling when waking up at 3 in the morning to pee, but... no.

Apart from that, however, the apartment was actually quite nice. It had modern and tasteful furniture, a fully equipped kitchen, nice hardwood floors, and dark wood support beams in every room that really lent the place a rustic feel, not unlike being high up in a tree fort. However, there was a bit of miscommunication with the price of the rent. The owner actually wanted €50 more than what was advertised, which also happened to be €50 more than what we're willing to pay. The apartment was also kind of getting a wee bit further out from the center than we'd like, and the bus route to Terezia's work would be a little more complicated. So, while we did pass on it, it was definitely one of the nicer apartments we've seen.


Another unaffordable dream apartment: We've seen a few other apartments as well, but none of them are worth mentioning except for another dream apartment that our friend Katka managed to show us. This was located in the same beautiful historical building as the bookstore - Kníhkupectvo u Bandiho - she runs with her husband, right on the corner of Medena and Kupelna. The place was lovely, with the requisite museum style parquet hardwood floors; large, spacious rooms with high ceilings and big windows; gorgeous exterior details like a lovely entryway and stairwell; and to top it all off, it was on the fourth floor. Sadly, like the last dream apartment we saw through Katka, on Heydukova, this was yet another case of the utilities pushing the monthly total anywhere from €100-200 out of our range. Katka is so incredibly sweet, but damn, I wish she'd stop doing this to us! Maybe next year.

I should also mention that this dream apartment was the 5th place we've seen that had been previously inhabited by Greek university students. I would've thought that was a strange coincidence had I not edited this little piece for the Spectator a while back.


At any rate, we've narrowed our search down to a couple of pretty cool apartments, both of which we think we'd be happy in, so stay tuned to find out which one we end up choosing and why!

Broken buildings: more lunatic rantings about Bratislava's urban fabric

One of the things I noticed soon after moving to Bratislava was that the larger area of the Stare Mesto (that more or less encircles the pedestrianized historical center), which is a mishmash of architectural eras and styles from medieval to Habsburg to communist to contemporary, has a number of historical buildings that are in serious states of disrepair. These buildings are not merely dilapidated - they're literally falling apart, with boarded up windows, gutted interiors, large cracks and chunks of missing plaster, etc. They are probably condemned and uninhabitable to anyone but the bravest of squatters.

Don't get me wrong, I like a little dilapidation. There's something romantic about when these old buildings actually show some signs of their age. That's what makes streets like Kapitulska or Konventna so appealing and actually kind of preferable to much of the pedestrianized center which, if anything, is a bit too whitewashed. But I'm aware that at some point those cracks and holes need to be filled, and those facades need to be painted so as to prevent these buildings from disintegrating beyond the point of repair.

You might remember my post about Kapitulska, a beautiful street in the historical center with several very old buildings that are on the verge of collapse, for which very little is being done beyond minimal bandaid repairs. But with Kapitulska, we know why these buildings are in the state they're in: the catholic church owned many of them, but they were seized by the state during communism and basically neglected for 40 years. When the church got them back, it lacked the money and/or the incentive to restore the buildings, yet it has been reluctant to sell them to developers. So they're just sitting there deteriorating.

As for the buildings just outside the pedestrianized historical area, there are probably a variety of reasons as to why they are being neglected, although in the end I'm sure it all comes down to money (or lack thereof). Below are several such buildings that have caught my attention.

This sad building on Namestie 1 maja is now an entrance to a parking lot that's in back of it. 

If you look closely, you'll notice the facade has been covered in chicken wire netting to prevent falling chunks of plaster from hitting passersby. This is not an uncommon site in Bratislava. 

What strikes me as odd about these buildings is that one would think that, given their relative scarcity and unique beauty, they would be highly valued and that developers would be falling over themselves for the chance to restore and renovate them into stylish residential flats or office spaces. This has happened with many of Bratislava's historical buildings to varying degrees, but I worry that these particular buildings might be too far gone to bring back to life; the repair work they need may be so severe as to render them unprofitable. Restoring historical buildings is enormously costly, and some of these buildings could conceivably turn into a financial black hole.

This building and the one in the photo below sit next to each other on Panenska, a cool historical street that sits a couple of blocks outside the pedestrianized historical center. 

This building's not totally boarded up yet, but it could soon wind up that way, just like its next-door neighbor, above.

Panenska building detail.  

I'd love to know who owns these buildings. Were they returned to their rightful owners after communism ended? If so, are the owners just sitting on them, waiting for the market to pick up, or do they want to restore them, and simply lack the funds? Or, were the owners or their descendants nowhere to be found, leaving these buildings under state control? If it's the latter, that could explain a lot. Still, it seems wrong to me to just let these buildings languish. I wonder if there is some state or EU aid that can be tapped for restoring historical buildings.

This sign is telling people to watch out for falling chunks of plaster. If you look carefully you can see signs like this affixed to some of the older buildings around town. 

If you look close you'll see that this highly visible structure on the busy corner of Stefanikova and Palisady is actually two buildings that are attached. The one on the right is not only boarded up, but adding insult to injury, it's being used as a colossal billboard, which is wrong on so many levels, and a prime example of Bratislava being literally swallowed up by hideous billboard advertising. 

This building is actually right in the heart of the pedestrianized historical center, a short block away from Hlavne namestie, the main square. This is the only building in the historical center that I can think of outside of Kapitulska that is uninhabitable. Sad!

What's odd about this is that in other historical European cities, like Florence, Siena, Prague, or Vienna, you really don't see buildings like these that are on the verge of collapse. They've all been restored or well maintained, and one gets the impression that there's just no way anyone would have allowed that to happen in those cities. But in Bratislava, it seems that a lack of money, and perhaps even a lack of motivation or interest, is a major obstacle.

Not sure what's going on with this building on Jozefska. Someone clearly started adding another level, but this gutted building has been sitting like this for a while. I've strolled by several times and have not seen anyone working on it, but who knows. Some projects move at a snail's pace. Also, who knows if the upper level, if completed, will cohere to the historical style of the first two levels; historical buildings with jarringly incongruous modern add-ons are not uncommon sights in this town. 

This palatial house, located on the corner of Sulekova and Zrinskeho, a block up from Palisady by the cemetery, is pretty amazing, yet sadly neglected. There doesn't appear to be anyone living in it, and even the gates in the front are padlocked. 

A close-up of the building above. Looking pretty rough. 

Part of why I care about this issue so much is not just because I really dig historical architecture, but that Bratislava already lost enough of its history during communism and even in the post-communist era. Communist panelaks and glass and steel shopping centers and office buildings have been encroaching on the historical center for decades. As a result, Bratislava's historical center is woefully small when compared to other cities (which in my opinion is a major reason why it doesn't attract as many tourists), so you'd think it'd be really important to preserve what's left.

See the building on the left? It's gone. Totally demolished. Now, even though it was not as attractive or unique as the building with the crumbling neoclassical facade next to it, it was still a nice building, and the fact that it's gone is basically my worst fear realized. The building next to it is in pretty rough shape, but at the time of writing, people are living in it, despite the fact that a wooden cover had to be put up over the sidewalk to prevent chunks of plaster from falling off and hitting passersby. 

However, I can end this post on a somewhat hopeful note. This attractive, and until recently crumbly, building behind the US Embassy is currently getting a thorough restoration. Check out these before and after shots.

This is how it looked last January. 

The new addition on top is questionable, at least as far as historical authenticity, but it could be worse. 

Detail of the front door. 

(Click here to see more of my photos!)