Moszna Castle, Poland
The rich, especially hereditary aristocrats, are freaks. Free from such concerns as how to get food and free from manual labor, their thoughts turn to exploiting the labor of those around them. How big and stupid a castle can I get these beasts to build? They wonder. Who can stock it with furniture, or work the fields in the surrounding farmland?
Even when their monuments to folly burn to the ground, as happened in 1896 to Moszna Castle, a neo-rococo fantasy tucked into the Opole district of Southern Poland, the aristocrats cannot be made rational. They pick themselves up, brush themselves off, and continue throwing cash at overlarge fireplaces, witch’s hat towers, and brass weathercocks until the money runs out.
On the brighter side: these days, if you are looking for a pleasant place to spend an evening or a night, the remnants of these absurd lifestyles are a great option for a day trip. The previously mentioned Moszhna Castle is a charming fairy-tale of a building in a secluded town far from the fast-paced cities of Poland. Tucked into the rural countryside, sporting dozens of turrets and towers, Moszna castle has foundations dating to the 17th century. Yes, the grounds have been haunted by the wealthy for centuries, up to the days of industrial giants the von Tiele-Wincklers, who owned several castles across the region. It wasn't till the great surge of Soviet communism liberated Moszna from the von Tiele-Wincklers in the later stages of WWII that these great castles could be made accessible to us ordinary folk.
For years the castle lay neglected, until in 1972 it was converted to a sanitarium, a true palace to the people. After the fall of communism, though, it gained its current incarnation as a tourist destination.
Admission to the grounds and castle together is 25 złoty per adult. This allows you to wander along the tourist path, which consists of seven rooms on the eastern wing. The path includes a lovely library fringed by ornate gothic-themed stained glass in stone frames. In the dining room, ornately carved wooden framed mirrors stand over grand dining tables. The path leads through a restored family residence, where a bed lazes alone and melancholy in the heart of a round tower overlooking the greenhouse.
All tours, recordings and written information are in Polish, but don't worry, the details are obvious enough you get the idea. It's an old castle where rich people entertained other rich people while the peasants made plans to riot.
Contemporary art by local residents, their talents stretching towards competence, hang from the walls. A blond, busty woman on horseback gazes at you from one frame, and then again from another, this time with a hawk her arm. Later, a family posing with the stone lions on the main Piazza. Scenes with flowers or swans. It's decent art, nothing outright third rate, just the best the locals could muster.
Which leads to another point: overall, the castle is a vital part of the community. On our visit schoolchildren were playing dodgeball on the lawn near a huge lonely pine staked and cabled to remain upright. And at least five couples in wedding finery were having photoshoots on the piazza steps. Restaurants and gift stalls lined the entrance but not extravagantly so. The cafe was a bit stuffy, and filled with families not quite following coronavirus protocols.
All in all one wonders on the tour whether the current owners are conflicted as to whether they are a museum with a hotel or a hotel with a museum. Certainly as a guest it would be uncomfortable to have tourists clogging up your hotel, and as a tourist it seems odd to have half the place closed off for guest rooms. If aristocrats had money problems, capitalists have issues of where their revenue stream comes from. So it turns out grand castles are nothing if not problem generating machines.
At least you get to walk away clean.
