Warsaw is an interesting city. Apparently it was like many other stately European cities - full of parks, lovely architecture from a span of centuries, walkable, and, as they're saying now, "human-scale." At the end of World War II, after Hitler had invaded Poland and forcibly relocated (and almost totally exterminated) Warsaw's 300,000 Jews, as well as numerous Poles (with a focus on the clergy and notable intellectuals), the Poles' resistance, especially the Warsaw rising, inspired him to particular rage. Already losing the war on multiple fronts, with a crisis of morale, and supplies needed on active fronts, he diverted men and munitions back to Warsaw, where he evacuated those remaining in the city and then began to level its empty buildings with explosives. He destroyed almost every building in the city. An empty city. That he had already captured. (The Poles, typically, continued to fight while this went on.)
The city's castle (at one time residence of the last king, now a historic site) is on the right; a snippet of the historic main square (rebuilt) is on the left:
We trooped through the forest (that's the brother and sister in the center) to see the former royal summer palace.


It's a modest affair compared to, say, Schoenbrunn (in Vienna). It's very pretty, though:

We also toured a beautiful historic cemetery:

And enjoyed some Polish food, went to the largest mall in Poland, took the trams a lot, drank tons of hot chocolate, had some excellent baked pierogi (need recipe), got the odd souvenir, and hung out. And walked around with wet feet in the snow. (Note: visit Warsaw in May.) We also saw a lot of churches (and that was the abbreviated list), including St. Anne, in which our parents were married in 1976 (they began their divorce proceedings twelve years later). That one doesn't lack for any ornamentation (with misfit and brother):

This church (I forget the name) has a very unusual design on its high pulpit:

I said prayers for you all in front of the statue of St. Maximilian Kolbe, and offered my Sunday Mass for you as well. My father always told the joke about the Pope running all over the world trying to get in touch with God in an emergency - nobody can help him out, but when he gets to Poland, they say, "No problem." "What, He's in Warsaw?" says the Pope. "Well, no," they respond - "but it's a local call from here."