Transportation in Krakow

Through rain, hail, sleet or snow, we would be riding the trams! We lived for two years in Krakow without a car. I found it both liberating and limiting, a blessing and a curse. Luckily, we lived in the city center which allowed us easy access to public transportation. Our street, ulica Karmelicka, had a tram line running down it with several different lines available. The closest tram stop on Karmelicka was the Baterego stop serving lines 4, 8, 12, 13, 14 and 24. The kids became seasoned city dwellers as they could tell you what line to catch depending on your destination. Dad's office? 8, Krzys' house? 13 The Lucases? 24 Galleria Krakowska? Anything but the 8.

The tram pictured to the left has just passed our apartment. If you were to run and catch this #8 tram, it would take you all the way to BUMA Square where Corey worked and I took Polish lessons. Yes, I have been known to break out into an all out run for the tram but only if I reeeeeally needed to catch the tram and I reeeeeeeeeeeally thought I could make it.

The people in Poland are very well mannered on their public transportation...with the exception for the occasional drunk. But even then, I never felt nervous about my fellow riders. Younger riders would always stand up and give their seats to older riders. I know Sylvia and my parents really noticed and appreciated this gesture. I guess I should be happy I'm so young, but I would frequently have to spend the entire ride on my feet, especially on the older trams which didn't have as many seats. On these rides I would just hope that I got the mellow drivers and not the ones that would almost derail when taking a corner or those that would lurch to a stop at every red light. Unfortunately, I also encountered "stinky tram man" about once a week. In the winter, the homeless seemed to hop on to get warm. In the summer, the trams were absolutely packed with tourists and locals, and these sweaty passengers didn't fare well in the hot, unairconditioned cars. Despite these experiences, it really was a great way to get around the city 99% of the time.

Because Corey and I never got a monthly pass, we would have to use a ticket every time we rode a tram or bus. A bilety normalny cost 2.50 PLN (which usually meant a little less than a dollar depending on the exchange rate). These tickets were good for one ride on a bus or tram, but you had to validate the ticket in a box on the tram or bus as soon as you got on. The MPK (Krakow's transportation department ) checked the riders frequently. Someone you'd least suspect would suddenly pull out their badge, get out a handheld scanner and yell, "Control" followed by other words in Polish which basically meant get out your ticket or pass. If you didn't have a validated ticket, the right kind of ticket or a valid pass, he would take you off the tram or bus at the next stop. He would then write you a ticket which you could pay on the spot for less or pay later for more. I would get nervous when the validation machines were broken and they wouldn't stamp my ticket. Luckily, I never got in trouble with Control.

The Corey Story: This is the story of an amateur tram rider. When I (Corey) was travelling on the tram home from work about one week after we moved to Krakow, I got on the tram at Buma. About half way to the next stop (about 30 seconds after leaving Buma stop, I went to punch my ticket. There was someone standing there and he said something to me in Polish and pointed to the front of the tram. I just thought he was telling me this puncher was broken. So, I went to try the one in the front and it too was blocked. By then, one of the tram monitors caught up to me and started asking me questions in Polish. I told him I did not speak Polish and, amazingly, he spoke English. At the next stop (Rondo Matecznego), two guys escorted me off the tram where they proceeded to tell me I owed a 70 zloty ($25) fine. These are guys who are dressed in normal clothes (not uniforms), and for some reason, I was feeling frisky that day. I insisted that I had tried to go punch my ticket. Though I had forgotten for about 20 seconds, I had the right intentions, and therefore, I felt strongly that I was in the right. So, I explained to them that I had only been in Krakow for a week, and I even showed them that I had a big stack of tickets in a meager attempt to show them that I had no intention of scamming the tram of their 80 cents. Anyway, we "talked" for about 10 minutes. I never pulled out my wallet, and eventually they just gave up and let me go. In retrospect, I am lucky they did not take my big stack of tickets. But these guys work off commissions from the fines, so they had nothing on their minds except zloty.

From then on though, I never forgot to punch my ticket as fast as possible. Occasionally, I would take a ride of one stop without punching a ticket, but I would always look closely at the people getting on, as I got pretty good at recognizing who might be a tram monitor.

Another day (a day I correctly punched my ticket), the monitors came on and caught a guy who unlike me, clearly was trying to scam the tram line of their 80 cents. They stood by the door glaring at each other and talking while awaiting the next stop. The monitor was a big burly guy and the scam artist was a little skinny guy. When the door opened, the scammer just bolted out the door and began running. The guy tried to stop him and gave chase for a few paces, but quickly gave up. They want money, not exercise!

One other story from the Corey front. Brody, Krzys and I went to catch a tram and we noticed that the next tram was stopped at the previous stop about 200 meters up the street, with its hazard lights on. So, we decided to walk down to that stop and see what was up. One of the guys that Chris referred to earlier as Mr. Stinky, was on this tram. And, he wouldn't get off. I think he had not punched his ticket :-). We saw a wobbly guy get off and figured that was him and that we could get on our way. But the tram driver had already called the police, so he had to wait. The real police arrived after a few minutes. What was weird was that about that same time, the drunk guy showed up again and walked right by me. I think the tram driver must have pointed him out because suddenly the police jumped this guy and threw him down on the ground. He was screaming and twisting trying to get away, but the male and female cop tandem kept him at bay. Later on, Krzys helped us translate some of the many curse words used in the exchange!

We were also fortunate to have the Plac Inwalidow bus stop at the other end of our block. We used these buses frequently to get to our friends in Wola Justowska, IKEA and occasionally to BUMA Square. Unfortunately, I never got a picture of the bus stop and the beautiful park behind it. Oh well...maybe some day...

...

Of course, walking was the most common means of transportation. I still miss walking through the planty. The old moat surrounding the medieval city of Krakow was filled in and turned into a a park when it was no longer needed for defensive purposes. I also miss walking through the old city and the Rynek with its beautiful architecture. I think I'll always miss those walks and the view of the castle.

The least common, but fastest means of transportation, was the taxi. I learned how to ask for a taxi in Polish and could carry on a nice conversation with the ladies at Radio Taxi 9191. If we planned well, our friend Janusz would pick us up in his taxi. Completely fluent in English, we could talk about food and Dirk Nowitski who Janusz insists has a Polish name. I haven't had a chance to ask Dirk about this yet. Sometimes I had to call for a taxi and take whatever driver they sent. Sometimes they spoke English, sometimes not. Luckily, my Polish was very functional after about 6 months and I could get where I needed to go. We had a few bad experiences with taxi drivers, but this occurred when we picked one up at a taxi stand that wasn't affiliated with a "radio" taxi company. I found out the private taxi drivers could charge whatever they wanted and had no problem charging exorbitant rates. I learned to tell which taxis were private and I would avoid them at all cost.