Poland and Germany 2026 Region Trip://Leg 1.1~Auschwitz-Birkenau Memorial Museum [18+]

                   Date:4/25/2026-5/6/2026

Destination: Poland, Germany

Goal: Energylandia, Phantasialand, Europa Park, Poland Culture, Germany Culture

Distance: 4700 Miles

Means of Travel: Flying, Train, Tour Bus

Potential Credits: 40

CONTENT WARNING: This blog entry discusses a tour of Auschwitz Birkenau Concentration Camp Oswecim, Poland, and discusses hateful, abusive acts of all kind committed by Adolf Hitler's genocidal Nazi regime. Please use judgement when deciding whether or not to read.

IMAGE DESCRIPTION: A black and white photo of the Auschwitz Birkenau rail house, with a railroad extending through an arch.

Every school class has one. That specific student that oddly gets way too into the Holocaust unit, to the concern of parents and teachers alike. That kid that’s always asking questions about the most horrible thing a K-12 student will learn in America, the kid who leaves the classroom only to read books on the subject at home, the kid who might not have even participated in class otherwise. To some, the worst things human beings have ever done to other human beings are captivating. Almost pathologically interesting. I was that kid. Nobody, myself included, really knows why, but I had a lot of interest in the topic. And almost twenty years later, I had an experience that thirteen year-old me would have never dreamed of: to get to set foot in a place as terrible as Auschwitz and see firsthand where these heinous, disgusting crimes took place.

Day 1

"Your departure time has changed from 9:45 to 5:45," GetYourGuide rudely told me that evening in Krakow. And that's what we did. I set early alarms, and we got up, around the block, and found the train station Kiss and Ride from which GetYourGuide would pick us up after ten freezing minutes in thirty degree weather.

IMAGE DESCRIPTION: A sunrise over a river behind a bridge railing, with buildings on the banks of the Vistula.

It was a beautiful morning in Poland as we crossed the Vistula. Little cold, little frosty, but beautiful. Because of the time difference, I chatted with Keely via text on the way over, but she got tired, and I promised her I'd just send her photos as I took them with my phone, so she might get a captionless photo dump with no context. She was, after all, the child in her class that was weirdly interested in the Holocaust.

IMAGE DESCRIPTION: A cement wall reads "Auschwitz-Birkenau Memorial Museum" in English, Polish, and Hebrew.

It was a two hour drive through the frosty countryside of Poland in the morning, which was honestly gorgeous. We even saw a bison herd and curved tree trunks out the window on the way, and honestly, it was a drive that could have lasted forever considering what I knew was on the other side. "OSWECIM," read the sign, just an innocent town name, but I knew from a book I had as a child what was in that town of Oswecim. "I'm shaking even being in this parking lot," I sent off to Keely as she fell asleep.

IMAGE DESCRIPTION: A hand holds a paper ticket reading "Auschwitz Birkenau" and bearing a time of 7:40, English language, and "8 Jarrett Browne."

In my 8th grade English class, my retiring teacher, who was otherwise a horrible crabby old woman with whom I did not get along, was also the school Holocaust nerd. This random English teacher was the lady you’d get sent to for drawing hate symbols on your binder. Her curriculum consisted of Daniel’s Story, the Anne Frank play script, The Wave, participation in a local Holocaust writing competition, and filling a period valise with symbols of the Holocaust. A Schindler’s List film poster hung at the back of her room, and many students falsely believed she was Jewish for Holocaust interest alone. Honestly, I learned more about the darkest chapter of history in my reading class than I ever would have about literature. And she had been here, and on a class day I was excited for, she showed us her photos on an old school slide projector. Excited because I knew there was no way in hell I could ever actually go to Poland and see it for myself.

This was in my hand. And this would have made teenage me feel all sorts of ways to even be in possession of this ticket with my name on it.

IMAGE DESCRIPTION: A queue on gravel heads into a brick building with tiled roof and skylights.

This unassuming building is where you wait before entering, where they do metal detection and hook you up with your audio guide. We had a wait here while we talked with this really cool older British couple we had met at the Kiss and Ride. This takes you to Auschwitz-I, the start of the Nazis' operation in Oswecim and the smaller brain of the sinister place where administrative decisions were made.

IMAGE DESCRIPTION: A group stands in a concrete basement wearing headphones, a black sign points to the left and reads "DIRECTION OF VISITING" in English, Polish, and Hebrew.

So you show up, they take you downstairs, and you're given these audio guide headphones. A pair of headphones covered with gauze-like sanitary cloth hooks into a transceiver that you can clip or pocket, which hooks you up to everything your guide is saying. And where this gets chilling was the realization that everything our guide, a Polish woman named Barbara, was saying, was always in earshot no matter how horrible it was, and no matter which room you were in.

IMAGE DESCRIPTION: A group strolls down a concrete trench landscaped with rocks and a slanting cement wall.

"Let us start with the names of the victims," Barbara told us, before taking us from this basement onto this walkway built in a masonry trench with a brutalist look to it. She turned off the audio guides, and we walked down the concrete path that slowly rose up to ground level. But every few seconds, you would hear a name. Hermann. Otto. Two faceless words every few seconds to represent one of millions murdered in cold blood at the place we chose to spend our morning.

IMAGE DESCRIPTION: Across a grassy field bathed in sun, several wooden and brick cabins sit in a morning mist behind green trees with sunlight illuminating their branches.

We had such a beautiful morning for this. Green grass, blue sky, a slight atmospheric morning fog, hell the birds were singing. But if anything, this was off putting when you consider that this quaint, beautiful setting is the closest thing to hell humans have created to date.

IMAGE DESCRIPTION: Two black signs show a map of Auschwitz I and tell the story of a Polish army garrison being turned into a concentration camp.

Auschwitz began life as military barracks for the Polish Army, the Germans decided that it would be repurposed upon taking Poland for themselves. Many of these buildings had innocent origins, but the Germans turned them into a concentration camp. Oswecim (pronounced "osh-VEE-cheem), the town we were in, was the namesake to the camp, with the name "Auschwitz" simply being a Germanic equivilent to Oswecim.

IMAGE DESCRIPTION: An iron sign over a gate reads "ARBEIT MACHT FREI."

ARBEIT MACHT FREI. "Work will make you free," my childhood teacher told us this sign read in German. A false promise meant to make this place seem like a less sinister labor camp, this is by far the most famous thing in Auschwitz-I.

IMAGE DESCRIPTION: A row of brick buildings with Dutch roofs surrounded by trees and gravel walkways.

As I said above, this part of the camp, unlike its more infamous subcamp, started life as military barracks, so there's nothing inherently sinister about anything you see just out in the open. Drew said it looked like a woodsy little apartment complex, which it does in parts where the barbed wire and guard towers aren't visible.

IMAGE DESCRIPTION: Auschwitz-I's path between blocks fenced off by a wooden wall and guard tower. A family with a wheelchair sits outside of one building.

While I saw wheelchairs around outside, it was gravel path, and the blocks where things were displayed were only accessible by steps.

IMAGE DESCRIPTION: A cement-framd doorway in a brick wall next to a lantern reading "4," the glass over the door reads "GENERAL EXHIBITION; EXTERMINATION" in English and Polish.

Many of these blocks have now been turned into the museum part of Auschwitz-Birkenau Memorial Museum, with exhibits telling what happened here through photos, glass cases, and words tied to artifacts. The first one they show you is Extermination.

IMAGE DESCRIPTION: A white model shows a room of murdered people underground, with nearby above-ground rooms showing the bodies being loaded into crematoria.

This was actually a surprising but familiar sight for Drew and I. There's a white plaster sculpture just like this at the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum, which shows off exactly how the Nazis' industrialized murder operation worked, specifically Crematorium 2 at Birkenau, which we would see later.

IMAGE DESCRIPTION: A glass case holding several rusty cans with their lids ripped off.

Zyklon B, a commercially available pesticide made with cyanide, became the standard means of routine mass murder in Hitler's gas chambers. Meaning "cyclone" in German, it was an innocent, powerful product name, like how we have Raid and Roundup and Arm & Hammer back at home. Several cans containing the deadly product were buried by the cowards trying to hide their crimes.

IMAGE DESCRIPTION: Atop a glass pedestal labeled "CYKLON B; ZYKLON B," a small pile of chalky pellets sits on display.

Zyklon B were these chalky pellets that were saturated in cyanide, when they hit the air, the cyanide would evaporate into a deadly gas that stops your body from being able to use oxygen. Contrary to urban legend, while the gas chambers were disguised as showers and the condemned would undress before entering, the pellets did not come out of the shower heads but fell in through slots in the ceiling. There, people numbering between 800 and 3000 (depending on which gas chamber) were trapped together in an airtight space as toxic cyanide slowly suffocated them over up to 20 horrible minutes. The "lights go off and a lot of screaming" you see in Hollywood was not a quick bait-and-switch, this chemical slowly and painfully suffocated human beings as they screamed for their lives.

IMAGE DESCRIPTION: Light-colored human hair.

PHOTO CREDIT: Auschwitz-Birkenau Memorial Museum Website, this is not a photo of the real hair, it is a stock image. Photography in the hair room is prohibited out of respect for the victims.

"No photos in the next room and prepare yourselves for a shock," Barbara's electrified voice coldly instructed me through the headset. What the hell was in there? "EVIDENCE OF EXPLOITATION OF CORPSES," read a chilling sign on the door. And when I stepped in, I gasped.

The next exhibit was a dimly-lit room containing a glass case that took up half the floor space, in it a heaping pile of reddish-brown human hair reaching across the entire wall floor to ceiling. I was under the impression from childhood that this was barber shop clippings, that they had swept up the hair shaved from prisoners' heads, but today, Barbara told us the grim reality that traces of Zyklon B were found in te hair. The Sonderkommando, a group of physically strong prisoners tasked with running the crematoria, were tasked with cutting the hair from murdered human beings and helping stockpile it. The Nazis would bale and sell the hair as a raw material, another case in the room also showed a sort of weaving loom used to spin it into textiles. Two tons of hair was behind that glass wall, which Barbara told us represented "forty thousand human lives," which I knew was a drop in the bucket compared to the over a million murdered at this camp.

IMAGE DESCRIPTION: Across a table are laid white shawls with navy stripes and yarnwork on them.

The next block showed items from Canada, the euphamism given to warehouses of stolen items by prisoners. "EVIDENCE OF MATERIAL CRIMES," read this exhibit. I'm friends with a Jewish family back at home, and through them I knew exactly how special and personal these prayer shawls likely were to the people from which they were stolen.

IMAGE DESCRIPTION: A pile of prosthetics, braces, crutches, and mobility aids.

This was the room to break me. I cried on the phone with my girlfriend the following evening because I saw this.

Many people I love I love are disabled, and some use mobility aids, one of which is my own girlfriend who I love and have plans to marry. And this was another marginalized group the Nazis terrorized, killing many before the Final Solution even started. And to know that one person who I loved enough to give her my entire life would have just been killed as one of a large scale operation and her wheelchair just thrown into this pile, and the knowledge that every single prosthetic, every brace in this pile represents one beautiful human being murdered, I couldn't. I promised Keely a photo dump, but this was the one thing I could not bring myself to send her. And as of this writing, she knows there was one photo I did not show her, but she does not know its contents.

What also bothered me was that this room is not accessible. If anyone deserves to see Auschwitz, it's the people they were killing. These barracks aren't a renaissance cathedral, and I feel like ground level elevators to both floors deserve to be installed in the buildings open to the public. Ensuring everyone gets to see these important things is more important than preserving a few three foot strips of death camp brick wall.

IMAGE DESCRIPTION: A pile of dirty grey leather shoes behind a glass wall.

And here we have the infamous shoe pile. Pretty sure everyone has seen this as one of the most recognized symbols of Auschwitz, but to look closely at the designs, the loafers, the pumps, and realize each of these was an individual choice to one person killed, maybe another is in the pile maybe it isn't. Every single one of these dirty, decaying shoes, separated from its match, tells the story of someone who didn't live to tell it themselves.

IMAGE DESCRIPTION: A pile of suitcases, bags, and baskets, some of the suitcases have names visible on them, one being Anna Kraus.

Suitcases, with the names of the victims chillingly written on each piece of luggage. Anna Kraus, couldn't help but wonder who that was and what was her story.

IMAGE DESCRIPTION: A wall of camp records, all bearing red triangles.

The next gallery had some paperwork, random artifacts, and a downstairs hall of camp mugshots. The most terrifying thing here was that after Jews, political prisoners were the next most common. Not the green criminal triangle, the red political prisoner triangle.

IMAGE DESCRIPTION: Ten mugshots of men with shaved heads in black and white against a wall.

Downstairs, you would walk through a hall of photo after photo of the victims. Many Poles, a few Slovenes, a mixed bag of others. Here, the man with the swollen lip and the cut on his head in the center of the bottom row was the story I wanted to know.

IMAGE DESCRIPTION: A glass case before a white paneled wall containing a glass urn, holding pulverized gray bone in a conical configuration.

This was another thing I cried about tonight.

This memorial contains the ashes that the Nazis dumped into the Vistula river to hide what happened here. This glass urn contains real Holocaust ashes, not the uniform white stuff you scatter in a field when your loved one dies, this is a course, gray, bony gravel-like substance, where the bones of those incinerated were just barely crushed up enough to take up as little space as possible. Not out of respect, but to downsize the remains of one human being enough that as many more as possible can fit onto the dump truck and be dumped unceremoniously into that river in the first photo.

IMAGE DESCRIPTION: A glass case holds a wooden handle with a length of braided wire at the end like a whip.

This cat o' nine tails was used for punishment around the prison.

IMAGE DESCRIPTION: A curved beating bench and the wooden stick used to beat those strapped into it.

People trying to escape were punished on this, bound face-down and brutally beaten. Today, it sits behind a glass case for people to see the reality of things here eighty years ago.

IMAGE DESCRIPTION: In a frame sits a burlap sack reading "PORTLAND-ZEMENT."

The titular Striped Pajamas from Boy In The Striped Pajamas (a historical fictional, historically inaccurate about Auschwitz that traumatized my entire generation), were not very warm. A prisoner working in Birkenau took these burlap concrete bags and stuffed his uniform for warmth in the harsh Polish winter, he was beaten within an inch of his life for it. Battered for a harmless act of self-preservation.

IMAGE DESCRIPTION: A grayscale photo of triple-tier bunk beds beside a window, with a table bearing a pot of sorts.

This next block was left largely intact, the "model" if you will, for life at Auschwitz-I. Bunks, toilets, and a punitive basement where photos were prohibited, made up this building. Prisoners would have lived in these barracks.

IMAGE DESCRIPTION: A brick wall of cinderblocks against a masonry wall, with a sun flare and several flower bouquets and candles at its base.

There was a room here where the Gestapo would try "offenses" committed by those imprisoned here, with the most common sentence simply being death. Two rooms existed for prisoners to undress before being led naked two by two to this wall, where they would be shot to death by firing squad. Notably, this is where people leave tributes at Auschwitz-I.

IMAGE DESCRIPTION: On the ground with candles nearby, a glass rock, a heart-shaped rock, a quarter and a dime sit in the silt.

Drew left the heart-shaped rock, a coworker of mine gave me the pretty glass one to leave on her behalf, and the two American coins you see come from Keely and I. Leaving change on horizontal surfaces is a paranormal thing often seen at haunted houses and cemeteries, so I thought it was fitting for that to be the way Keely and I showed our respect.

IMAGE DESCRIPTION: A pathway flanked on both sides by barbed wire runs between two buildings.

We continued to the edge of the camp, the grand finale for Auschwitz-I, knowing damn well something awful awaited us. I didn't know what it was we were about to see, but we were going to see it, and I was unsure if I wanted to.

IMAGE DESCRIPTION: From a grassy hill landscaped with pine trees, a foundation and brick chimney rise from the knoll.

We were going to be taken into what remained of the Auschwitz-I gas chambers. These were not the massive killing machines where a majority of those sent to Auschwitz were murdered. This gas chamber was smaller, a prototype even, clobbered together out of the camp's existing morgue and crematorium. "You may photograph in here, but please maintain silence out of respect for the victims."

IMAGE DESCRIPTION: A barren cement basement with a light overhead and a door in the back left.

While the Birkenau gas chambers were disguised as showers with knobs, tile, and shower heads, this facility was just a concrete basement where people were killed. Through small slots in the ceiling, Zyklon B was poured into this room while it was locked elbow-to-elbow with people who would suffocate slowly and painfully from the cyanide.

The Nazis knew what they were doing. They would rev engines outside to drown out the awful screaming of people being murdered within.

IMAGE DESCRIPTION: A brick and cement basement with two cremation ovens, equipped with trays mounted to rails on the floor.

This had begun life as the camp's morgue, so this crematorium predates the final solution. But make no mistake, seeing an oven used to dispose of that many innocent murder victims sent chills down my spine. This could have been a crappy, dated piece of machinery with which I worked at my regular job, but with much more sinister purposes.

IMAGE DESCRIPTION: A wooden platform with stairs leads up to a U-frame with a rusty metal hook on the horizontal.

This gallows was the best thing we saw all day. One person, count it, one. Uno. Ein. Jeden. A single person was killed here, and it was the sick bastard who ran this place. Upon liberating the camp, the Russians built this, took the camp director responsible for all the death and torture going on here, and hanged him right at the very gas chambers where he murdered so many others.

This was the best thing we saw all day.

IMAGE DESCRIPTION: Across a grassy field of dandelions, a wide, shallow building has a set of railroad tracks going through an arch under a cupola.

From here, we returned to the parking lot, those who bought sack lunches ate them, and we took a quick toilet break. Then, we piled into the car and drove ten minutes to Auschwitz's bigger, more deplorable subcamp: Birkenau.

IMAGE DESCRIPTION: Railroad tracks head through a simple brick building through an arch under a cupola.

Here it is. The iconic Holocaust photo, vanishing perspective of the railroad tracks that took people to the very end you can see in the photo. Truly iconic, yes, but for the most sinister, disgusting reasons.

IMAGE DESCRIPTION: Miles upon miles of barbed wire, brick ruins, and barracks in the distace.

No audio guides at Birkenau. We barely need it because we won't be seeing much. Not that there's nothing here, there absolutely is. Barracks, factories, and barbed wire as far as the eye can see, as a matter of fact. It's much bigger than Auschwitz-I. Everything you saw above? Imagine it copy and pasted as many times as possible for maximum performance of the acts you saw. It's fucking disgusting.

IMAGE DESCRIPTION: A grayscale photo of a red railcar sitting on the train tracks, with wooden metal beams and siding.

People from all over Europe were loaded into these train cars elbow to elbow, with only one bucket as a toilet, sometimes for days on end. Many were actually excited to arrive at Birkenau, because the disgusting, eternal journey was over, but their hell had just begun. And even worse, many had thought the murmurs of camps and gas chambers were a mere conspiracy theory until they arrived here.

IMAGE DESCRIPTION: A pile of rubble and cement frame rests in a pile of bricks, dangling strands of rebar downward.

At the back of Birkenau, this is all that remains of the white sculpture's subject matter. Cowards as they were, the Nazis destroyed their gas chambers when they realized the Soviets would liberate the camp shortly. Three or four of these massive ruins occupied the back of the camp, with one notably destroyed in a Sonderkommando riot a week prior to liberation.

IMAGE DESCRIPTION: In a grassy field roped off by a barbed wire fence and guard tower, a brick trench with tubular steel supports runs through the ground.

When this was all assembled, people would go from the rail car seen in a prior photo, and be selected for either slave labor or death. Those sorted into the group to be executed would be taken here under the guise that it was disinfection. They would be forced to undress completely, the led into an underground gas chamber disguised as a shower. After the Zyklon B pellets completely gassed them to death, the Sonderkommando would load them into elevators up to the crematorium, where the destroyed human lives would be reduced by flame, machines, and manual labor, into that gray bone gravel seen in the prior urn photo.

IMAGE DESCRIPTION: Four black granite stones read "To the memory of the men, women, and children who fell victim to the Nazi genocide. here lie their ashes. May their souls rest in peace." In Polish, English, and Hebrew.

There is a large memorial, and a smaller one. That couple we had spoken to were the only others to leave anything in tribute, placing a rock beside one of these stones.

IMAGE DESCRIPTION: Across railroad tracks, a series of barracks, barbed wire fences, and a guard tower.

Auschwitz-I is small, lowkey, and as Drew said, could pass for an apartment complex. Auschwitz-II, Birkenau, this place was unapologetically as evil as possible. Massive, out in the open, and with no effort to hide what they were doing. It's one of maybe ten objects duplicated into infinity to maximize the amount of slavery and murder of which this place would be capable. It is literally the worst place in the world.

IMAGE DESCRIPTION: A brick barracks building supported with a timber frame in the grass.

Barbara wanted to show us the women's' barracks lastly, so we hiked up a gravel trail and entered this place where the prisoners, the average people the Nazis chose to let live, for now, slept here.

IMAGE DESCRIPTION: Racks of wooden sleeping shelves supported by masonry walls on a brick floor.

"I wouldn't let my dog sleep here," I heard uttered as we strolled through the racks, not beds, racks for humans, with wooden planks and nails sticking out of them. Drew informed us that he heard of fights breaking out for the upper bunks, as gravity would force the human excrement to drip and trickle down onto those sleeping below.

IMAGE DESCRIPTION: Multiple rail switches lead into the gatehouse of Auschwitz-Birkenau Concentration Camp in black and white.

This concluded our tour, and from here, we headed back to the tour bus to get snacks, use the toilet, and return to Krakow with a stop at the salt mines like we had not just spent the morning looking at crushed human remains, crematoria, prosthetics from disabled murder victims, or two tons of hair cut from dead people.

I knew I would have to do a lot to distract myself from what I had just witnessed.

IMAGE DESCRIPTION: A few sculptures in an underground mine show a man kneeling before a princess surrounded by guards.

UP NEXT: We visit the UNESCO World Heritage Site of the Wieliczka Salt Mine south of Krakow, descending hundreds of feet into the earth into caverns of history both natural and human. Incredible subterranean scultures, fascinating geological history millions of years in the making, and somehow heading this deep underground leads to Jesus instead of Satan like I always thought. Plus, the painful memories at Auschwitz have a silver lining as we visit Krakow's Kazimierz district for dinner, and witness firsthand the beauty of the Ashkenazi Jewish culture that continues to flourish in Krakow.