Originally published by
the now-defunct WiK English Edition, part of Poland’s reputed Wprost publishing
house, in July 2006
Jana Pawla II: Warsaw’s Strip of
Sleaze
The Polish capital entertains it
citizens in amorphous fashion. Okay, there is a hub of sorts in the centre down
ul. Mazowiecka and its environs but the district lacks variety in the range of
pubs and clubs on offer. Most of them, to be frank, err on the aloof, with only
Sheesha bar, (on ul. Sienkiwicza) and Klubo Kawiarna (on ul. Czackiego)
eschewing the pomposity.
Not so far away – say a five to 10
minute cab journey – lies a burgeoning slice of life that still has eons to go
before it starts taking on airs. Two years ago, the strip of Jana Pawła II
between ul. Nowolipki and Aleje Solidarnosci was grimy, dull and was only lent
character by the dozen or so sex shops that lined it sporadically. Then Café
Furkot came along and from being just a ‘drag’, in both senses of the word, it
gradually became a serious place to hang out.
Furkot has become the stuff of
legend among the crowd who frequented the place soon after it opened. Staffed
by the incomparable Tomek, it was the scene of many nights’ unstoppable
partying, when customers put on their own music on and poured their own drinks
and often forgot to pay for them. There were times when Tomek had to sleep on a
customer’s settee – every regular was a true ‘local’ – so that he could get up
in time to open the bar again at 9am, after closing up at 6 or 7am. Café Furkot
seemed at that time to be less a drinking hole than scene of a weekly house
party. Though it amounts to no more than the size of the average living room,
Friday and Saturday nights would invariably see the place sway with dancers
until Tomek’s fatigue suddenly got the better of him.
Alas, Furkot’s days of anarchy were
not to last and with hindsight that was entirely predictable. The owners
realized that Tomek’s free-for-alls were costing them more in takings than the
bar’s rapid growth in popularity was worth. He had to go, they decided. These
days, the legacy of the Furkot golden age is a camera just above the bar
watching the staff’s every move.
Though it closes far earlier than
before, it is still going strong and arguably its very presence in the first
place revitalized the whole street. The owners obviously noticed this because
last year they opened a second bar, ‘Biba’, - much on the same scale as Furkot
– just a few doors away, which has become a civilized retreat for beer and
conversation, a far cry from the halcyon days of its elder brother.
The Furkot/Biba owners have given
the other bars on that south side of the street a right kick in the pants.
Swingo – next door to Furkot and much bigger - was deemed the only place worth
visiting a couple of years back on Jana Pawla by anyone with any semblance of
taste. But with the advent of Furkot, it closed for a while last year to give
itself a much-needed face lift. It also does happy hours in abundance, funnily
enough.
Further up, there is the Diver bar,
whose name, without the ‘r’, earlier summed up the place completely. Frequented
mainly by the no-neck crowd it was the joint you’d cross over to the other side
of the street to avoid. But now, with Furkot thinking about its bedtime, it is
the latest-closing joint on the strip – and it only charges PLN 5 for a
Krolewskie beer, just a notch below
their competitors. The customers’ necks also seem to be getting longer.
The opposite side of the street is
very different and give or take the odd sex shop, is dominated by kebab houses,
the best of which is Sapko’s at number 41a. The consensus in Warsaw seems to be
that that place on Marszalkowska opposite McDonalds, where the gullible and
pigeons congregate, is the best in town. No way. Enter Sapko’s at a certain
time of the day, with all those meaty, cheesy and tangy dishes blowing kisses
at you from beneath the glass counter, then eating becomes a savage desire. The
whole place also seems to be organised to military precision and is friendly to
a fault too. You get a complimentary glass of tea with every meal which barely
washes down the impossible portions the café insists on giving you.
Small, non-descript bars have been
cropping up on the northern side of the street of late, but the stalwart
remains ‘Guiseppe’, a beer lounge given over to karaoke, televised football matches and low-grade
ribaldry. It looks dangerous but isn’t. It’s where a lot of working class
Varsovians have fun and you could always go and join them if you so wish.
However, this writer has seen quite
a few fights on this stretch of Warsaw and was himself once attacked late at
night. With the growth of the area this should – and has – become far less
common, but visitors should take heed. Jana Pawla has a very long way to go
before it comes anyway near to resembling a tourist quarter.
But it might yet. It’s all in the
name – John Paul II avenue. When the former pope died, thousands of Varsovians
gathered to light candles and pay their respects on this very street. The scene
was repeated in April this year on the anniversary of his death and you can
still buy John Paul II candles from the off-licences, which have also sprouted
up with abandon in the past two years, along with your beer and fags.
The sex shops blaring all their
‘Peep Show’ and ‘Striptease’ signs, as well as liberal displays of some of the
paraphernalia on sale inside, somewhat undercut the piety many Varsovians have
sought to re-claim for the street. During the mass mourning for the pontiff
last year the stores actually covered their facades with tarpaulin as a bizarre
mark of respect for someone who would have shut them down in an instant. The
effect, weirdly, was to draw attention to the shop fronts. Until then, such had
been their long-term presence that people just took them for granted. The other
oddity is why the thousands or so mourners chose the sleaziest part of the
street to pay their respects. Jana Pawla is an extremely long avenue so
temporary shrines could have been set up just about anywhere. But no, Polish
Catholics chose to light candles outside stores selling dildos.
There’s a lot going on in that part
of town.
Can be read alongside this: http://www.culturekiosque.com/nouveau/travel/eroticon.html
ReplyDeleteGreat post about our old stomping ground.
ReplyDeleteCheers Paul! Them were the days!
ReplyDeleteOld times... And everything because of "Furkot" ! I should bring up some memories but .... I forgot a lot
ReplyDeleteYou were defintely there, Viola. I can tell you that at least.
ReplyDeleteThank You For Your Great Article!!
ReplyDelete