By Elizabeth Kotz
What is there to talk about, when one talks about walking? I could mention the conversations that seem to be fueled by a good walk, the hours I’ve lost while walking in circles (lost) or the hidden spots I’ve found while doing nothing, really, only walking. Going for a walk abroad is a treat, and an opportunity to try on a disguise. Wearing the hat of an ordinary Polish flâneur affords one the chance to peek into shop windows, meander through grocery stores, and- perhaps best of all- stare at others doing the same. The only downside I’ve found is the inevitable wear and tear of my feet and the destruction of my excuses for shoes.
It could be said, probably correctly, that Americans have forgotten how to walk. We are exceptionally adept at pressing our right foot down on a gas pedal, but when it comes to good old-fashioned voyeurism we’ve gone indoors and burrowed into computer screens. Krakow’s Rynek is nothing if not a fashion show, a place to see and be seen… And it is accessible only if one gets there on foot. In Eastern Europe one’s own feet are usually are the most enjoyable means of getting somewhere, though not particularly fast, fresh air smells better than a cramped bus or tram. Though both will dump you at your destination in a somewhat timely fashion, you’ll miss tucked away markets, unexplored alleys and run-ins with those loveably strange characters who haunt streets at all hours. I should be walking right now in fact, instead of sitting inside eating too much again and feeling that much more like an American fish out of water.
It could be said, probably correctly, that Americans have forgotten how to walk. We are exceptionally adept at pressing our right foot down on a gas pedal, but when it comes to good old-fashioned voyeurism we’ve gone indoors and burrowed into computer screens. Krakow’s Rynek is nothing if not a fashion show, a place to see and be seen… And it is accessible only if one gets there on foot. In Eastern Europe one’s own feet are usually are the most enjoyable means of getting somewhere, though not particularly fast, fresh air smells better than a cramped bus or tram. Though both will dump you at your destination in a somewhat timely fashion, you’ll miss tucked away markets, unexplored alleys and run-ins with those loveably strange characters who haunt streets at all hours. I should be walking right now in fact, instead of sitting inside eating too much again and feeling that much more like an American fish out of water.
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