... but in fact, for a metropolis of such caliber, Wrocław has still not invested as wisely in key facilities for the city's development as, for example, Kraków: here, a large convention center and a grand arena have proved to be strategic. This kind of infrastructure attracts world-class congresses, concerts and mass events to the city, completely transforming its cultural and scientific offerings.
National Forum of Music, design: Kurylowicz & Associates
© City Hall of Wroclaw
In a serious European, global metropolis, such buildings are a must have, as is a high-class museum of contemporary art—and I think such gaps are yet to be filled in Wroclaw.
It's time to finally hit the streets of Wroclaw. I'm taking my electric bike to scan the cities, extremely curious to see what kind of city I'll discover with this approach.
It took a few days to prepare properly, I read about Wroclaw. Tension was rising: some strange premonition told me that something unusual was going to happen. I was driving from Krakow in a camper van, my whole soul was playing with joy—because I like these trips. But something was wrong—after all, I had driven from Krakow to Wroclaw plenty of times in my life, I had a colossal amount of business, meetings, university classes there, I seemed to know this Wroclaw very well, such a first-choice city altogether (right after my Krakow, of course). What can surprise me about a city where I have been all my life? I had already learned this lesson in Warsaw: never judge cities from the perspective of business travel. Some strange, truly abnormal excitement was building up in me. It was probably related to a premonition that Wrocław, discovered consciously, with the intention of being well recognized already while working with other cities, without haste, that seeing it so completely from scratch and from a new perspective would literally crush me. And it did crush.
Rędziński Bridge—one of the biggest changes in the Wroclaw skyline
Photo: Maciej Kulczynski © Wroclaw City Hall
Earlier there were signals reaching me. First there was the so-called good sign. When I drove my car up to Mount St. Anne, for the first time in my life I saw a breathtaking view—in front of me, in the light of an embarrassingly beautiful sunset, stretched a completely unbelievable panorama of Lower Silesia enclosed by the clearly visible outline of the Karkonosze Mountains. The mountains could be seen from almost 200 kilometers, as if on the palm of your hand, in the unprecedentedly clear air that day.
I like this place very much: St. Anne's Mountain is magical, separating literally and figuratively Upper Silesia from Lower Silesia. As in the name—the Upper lies on a kind of shelf, higher than the Lower. That's why there have been battles on this mountain in history, weather changes here so often, and the Germans carved a monumental amphitheater into it—it's a magical mountain, almost like Sleza.
I felt somehow so sublime in that moment with the view of the Giant Mountains. I have incredibly close ties to Upper and Lower Silesia—for both regions I created strategies for their regional brands, absorbing mountains of literature, discussing them with literally hundreds of people. I left this my beloved Upper Silesia full of POSITIVE ENERGY, descending to my beloved SECRET Lower Silesia on the slope of St. Anne's Mountain. It was like a mystical pilgrimage, like a homecoming, but also like an encounter with some long-deferred dream.
The darkness of Wroclaw, its ambiguity, its complex past—these are what make this city like a femme fatale
© City Hall of Wroclaw
The second signal—after this magical view—was the substantive preparations. Already while writing the latest strategy for the still-secretive Lower Silesia, I started to get into this Wrocław. There was a hypothesis that Breslau was the most important (perhaps after the capital) German city before the war. I began to test this seemingly eccentric idea. Germany's most important city? What about Cologne, Hamburg, Frankfurt, Munich, well, no kidding, this inconspicuous Breslau of ours the number one pride of the German nation? And yet. I began to find evidence of this.
As I set out on my bicycle along the riverside flood wall, I finally felt the river... and already knew it was going to be a beautiful adventure. I spent the first day, cycling possessively around the Wroclaw islands. Seemingly—like everyone else—I knew about this Breslau as if it were Venetian, with bridges, branches and tributaries of the Oder River. But I never fully felt it. To visit all the islands you need a bike and really a lot of time. This city cannot be felt on foot or from a car, here you need your own two wheels precisely (or a boat). You can't see this water city from the Sky Tower, the river disappears obscured by buildings. You can't see this key „riveriness” in the iconic Kolejkowo, Wroclaw in general, in my opinion, still somehow doesn't know how to tell about its river, even in the very good Hydropolis after all, I didn't feel it.
