Gdańsk Impression — by Miss Fiona Wong, Division of Arts and Languages

Keywords: Gdańsk, Poland, Danzig, lyrical essay, travel notes

Accepted: May 31, 2025; Published online: June 17, 2025; Published: June 27, 2025

On a chilly, overcast, early summer afternoon, you arrived at the Gdańsk Old Town like a modern reader opening a book of Polish folklore. Lined with Brick Gothic architecture, the streets were empty with just a handful of sole travelers dawdling in and out of the well-lit souvenir shops, while the rest of the windows remained silent in shadows. You carefully examined the closed curtains, and you thought you heard murmurs.

You wondered if a witch had lived in that room with the arched window, or if that old dark attic had once housed a vampire. You could almost feel it – the weight, the history. But the city seemed oddly quiet, as if conspiring to deny your senses. Your bags felt like they were dragging on the ground, and you squinted your eyes, trying to see clearly. The restaurants, closed. The park benches, vacant. You looked to the sidewalk where there should be street vendors, nothing. The path seemed to extend infinitely as Gdańsk stayed perfectly still.

The sun was setting, and you had to find your lodging. Hurry! – you must find your way by nightfall, before they were conjured. You hastened, fearing you might not have much time. The town dimmed to a murky grey. The church bell rang. You looked up.

The sky came alive with crows that have long watched over this zone. Bars and diners lit up. You saw figures pouring out from the church into the shaded alleys. There was a breeze, you thought. The carousel by the seaside started spinning. Horses and carriages moved forward in circles, like destiny, taking anyone who was willing. In an archaic glow, the world quickened.

Now you knew where to go. Gdańsk had let you in.