Fried cheese on the market square.
The wall of Kazimierz, the Jewish ghetto.
The Jewish cemetery.
Paintings by Filip Kalkowski.
Krakow was just as beautiful as I remembered but something was missing. There was no trace of that melancholy and decadence I've always loved about Poland. Except in our hostel room, wich looked like a mixture of a wooden country cottage and a storage for old furniture, mistakenly ended up in a wrong dimension inside a city house on a peaceful square.