When city newspapers announced last Autumn that one of Cracow's most historic streets was to be pedestrianized, it sounded like music to the ears. The street's credentials needed little advertisement. For almost five centuries Szeroka had been the cradle of a culture that had all but vanished during the last war. Three synagogues face onto the street, and the merchants houses that line each side are little time capsules in themselves, rich in details that transport the viewer back to a lost golden age. It is a place of arresting beauty, as well as profound historic resonance.
However, for many years now the heart of the street has been stuffed to the brim with cars - it is in fact a car park. Perhaps it is something of a gross understatement to say that this is not a jolly state of affairs - 'Szeroka will be empty of cars by Christmas' the headlines ran, but nothing has happened.
To be fair, all Poles would have taken that claim with a pinch of salt. Deadlines are often bandied about in this fair country, prompting many wry smiles over the breakfast table. The main thing though, and a factor that is worth celebrating, is that change is afoot (albeit gradual). The very fact that an overhaul is planned at Szeroka is a welcome step in the right direction.
This brings us to the general state of affairs in Cracow. Poland's former royal capital is mercifully traffic free compared to many other European cities. In much of the Old Town and Kazimierz, one feels almost completely untroubled by hooting horns and skidding wheels. It is one of the city's great pluses. At one or two crossroads trams can swish by unexpectedly, but once you are accustomed to this, it is hardly a problem. The tram system is indeed a fine and venerable institution, making travel a straightforward affair.
However, there are some gaping anomalies in the city's infrastructure, of which Szeroka is just one of the leading examples. Take the Maly Rynek for example. 'The small market square', as it translates, is one of the most attractive public spaces in the city. Some of the houses here date back to the fourteenth century, whilst the magnificent basilica of St. Mary's rises up in the north western corner. The square is a wonderful example of a kind that had once been so common in Poland. With its quaint, narrow merchants houses - some of which have wonderful ornaments - it is strikingly reminiscent of the Old Town Square in Warsaw. Yet the Varsovian square was dynamited during the last war and had to be rebuilt from scratch. Here we have a place that has actually survived the passage of time, but what is it today? A car park my dear fellow.
And then we come to Plac Szczepanski, bounded to the south by the historic Old Theatre, with its marvelous art nouveau facade, and to the east by the Stanislas Wyspianski Museum, housed as it is in a stately old townhouse. On the western side the magnificent fin-de-siecle pavilion of the Society of the Friends of Art cuts a splendid dash. But what charming objects grace the centre of this square. A fine statue perhaps, a fountain, a small garden even? No, meine liebe freunde, it is a car park. When I walked through this morning, a bright red 'Crunchy Chips' lorry was holding pride of place alongside a host of automobiles in every conceivable colour. Mounds of slushy brown grime were piled up between the cars after the previous night's snowfall, making the spectacle all the more picturesque. Looking down from his plinth on the sweeping Art Society pavilion, the great artist Jan Matejko was clearly not best pleased.
Of course, in this day and age, we can't ban car parks. Nor should a mawkish sentamentality for a horse-and-carriages sweetness blind us to the faults of previous epochs. However, surely there can be a reasonable balance between accommodating modern developments and preserving the dignity of the past.
In recent times, some of Cracow's hotels have built underground carparks, a common feature in other cities. And there are certainly plenty of less historically crucial spaces beyond the Planty gardens that might be employed for such uses.
Of course, in the future we will probably all have our own personal flying briefcases or jet-packs and these debates will all seem quaintly old-fashioned. And it is certainly laudable that the Cracovians are not so precious about their heritage that you feel that you are living in a museum - that you mustn't 'step on the grass' as they say. The city feels lived in, and this is one of its great charms. Here you'll stumble across internet cafes that have set up shop in former Renaissance drawing rooms, with beautiful frescoes and coffered ceilings setting the tone. This is all part of Cracow's very special character. And perhaps one day we will indeed have our own flying briefcases. But until then the city could be much more dignified (and if one takes a more cynical angle, more profitable to the owners of Cracow's restaurants, cafes and shops) if its historic spaces were not jammed to the brim with cars, vans and flying saucers.
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