The City That Speaks
A Story of Kraków and Its Place Names

We begin our walk in front of a massive, round building made of red brick and surrounded by greenery. This is the Barbakan / Barbican. Where does this strange, slightly foreign-sounding name come from? The word most likely comes from medieval Latin (barbacana) or from old Eastern languages and simply means an external defensive structure built in front of the city walls. People in Kraków often call it „Rondel” / “the Cooking Pot” in everyday speech because its round shape resembles a huge pot.
We stand in front of it and imagine old Kraków. It was not a city that remained open around the clock. In the Middle Ages and the early modern period, the city gates were closed at night. The gate we are about to pass through was ryglowana / bolted and locked after sunset. Any traveller who failed to return to the city before nightfall had to spend the night outside the walls in rather dangerous conditions — or… try to bribe the city guard.
Darkness in those times was absolute. Street lighting was an enormous luxury, so for a long time the city was simply dark at night. Street lamps appeared very late and were initially extremely rare.

We pass Barbakan / the Barbican and stop in front of Brama Floriańska / St. Florian’s Gate. We walk towards Stare Miasto / the Old Town — as if this were not so much an entrance to Kraków itself, but a gateway to the oldest story of the city.
Because, of course, the city began much earlier. Yet it is precisely here, behind this gate, that we enter a space that has been organized, named, and described in the greatest detail throughout history.

We pass beneath the arch of the gate. Ulica Floriańska / Floriańska Street, where we are standing now, is not an ordinary street. It is a part of the former Trakt Królewski / Royal Route.
Along this very path, over these same stones, kings entered the city for their coronations. Great diplomatic delegations from other countries travelled here, and funeral processions of monarchs also passed this way, heading towards the castle.
And the name? It comes from święty Florian / Saint Florian — the patron saint whose role was to protect people and their belongings from fires.
Why was this so important? The name reminds us how much medieval cities lived in the shadow of fire. Fires were a constant and devastating threat. Wooden buildings, which dominated the city for a long time, meant that a single carelessly left flame could destroy entire neighbourhoods within just a few hours.

We walk slowly along the street, weaving between tourists, but trying to read the city like an old text. Look up at the tall windows above us. In the Middle Ages, walking close to the walls of buildings was not a safe choice.
Why? Because rubbish and waste, including the contents of chamber pots, were thrown… straight out of the windows onto the street! Sometimes a servant would warn passers-by with a loud shout, but not always.
No wonder the old pavements were narrow, and wise people usually walked in the middle of the road to avoid an unpleasant surprise.

We reach the end of the street, and suddenly the space opens up before us. We are standing in Rynek / the Market Square! Rynek Główny / the Market Square makes a truly spectacular impression. And once again, I have the same feeling — that I am standing in a place designed with incredible precision, not simply one that “came into being” by chance. The word rynek / market square itself comes from the German word Ring, meaning a ring or circle — a space around which city life revolves. This particular Kraków square was laid out in the 13th century with remarkable precision, using ropes and surveying tools.
What is fascinating is that the square was planned on a grand scale, “just in case” — after the city was granted its charter in 1257, Kraków’s ambitions were far greater than the modest number of its inhabitants at the time.

Perhaps you have heard of the famous Linia A-B / A-B Line? When we look at the northern frontage of Rynek / the Market Square (the side on the right as we leave Ulica Floriańska / Floriańska Street), we are looking at it.
The lines known today as AB, CD, and others mentioned by historians are not just a modern interpretation. They reflect the actual geometric division of this space from the 13th century, when the area was divided into equal sections, creating a kind of medieval urban grid.
The city was meant to be orderly and functional — even the space for crowds was carefully planned in advance.
However, the name Linia A-B / A-B Line itself has a more recent origin. At the end of the 18th century, the Austrians introduced a new system of taxation and military recruitment, assigning numbers and letters to city blocks (the so-called conskripcyjna / census numbering system). This particular side of the Market Square was given the sectors A and B. Later, in the 19th and early 20th centuries, Linia A-B / A-B Line became the most elegant promenade in the city. This was where the social elite gathered and where the most fashionable cafés were located.
In fact, Rynek / the Market Square has always been the centre of information and a place where rumours travelled faster than they do online today. Here, you could learn practically everything — from the latest news about national politics to the everyday, private lives of your neighbours.

Now, however, imagine this same Rynek / Market Square several hundred years ago. Close your eyes. There are no elegant cafés here. Instead, there is noise, mud, and a variety of smells. The old Kraków had a completely different scent from the city we know today. Between jatki / butcher shops, garbarnie / tanneries (where animal hides were processed), and the lack of a sewage system, the city had a very intense smell — one that we would probably find quite difficult to tolerate today. Animals such as chickens, pigs, and even cattle wandered freely through the city, even across such a large square. The city was not separated from rural and farm life in the way we are used to today. What is more, running water in homes was far from being a given. On Rynek / the Market Square, there were public wells used by all residents, and the water they provided was often extremely valuable — but… not always very clean.

We look at the enormous, elongated building in the middle of the square. This is Sukiennice / the Cloth Hall.
The name tells us exactly what happened here: sukno / cloth (a high-quality, thick woollen fabric), trade, business, and behind it all — great wealth.
You do not need a professional guide to understand what Kraków was built on. One brilliant word is enough.
But be careful — the old Sukiennice / Cloth Hall did not look nearly as impressive as the one you see today! Originally, it did not have side walls in the modern sense. It was more like an open market hall — a covered row of wooden stalls that only gained its elegant brick form in later centuries.
Urban law was strict and unforgiving — trade was governed by very precise rules. Here and in the surrounding area, there were specific hours for selling goods, officials inspected weights, set prices, and checked the quality of products. Fraud could end with a severe and very public punishment.

And speaking of punishments… We look at the magnificent tower standing alone near Sukiennice / the Cloth Hall. This is Wieża Ratuszowa / the Town Hall Tower. Today, we see only the tower, but in the past it was connected to a massive city hall building. The Polish word ratusz / town hall comes from the German Rathaus — “the house of the council.” The building was demolished in the 19th century because city councillors considered it outdated and “unattractive.” In this way, Kraków removed a huge piece of its own medieval history by its own decision.
Not far from the town hall stood a pręgierz / pillory — a post to which criminals were tied. Public punishments were carried out here on Rynek / the Market Square.
Displaying a wrongdoer, thief, or fraudster before the eyes of the public was one of the most common forms of punishment in the city. The aim was not only to punish the guilty person, but also to frighten others and show all citizens what awaited those who broke the rules. Such a punishment was meant to cause shame and humiliation even more than physical pain. The old Rynek / Market Square was also much louder than it is today. In addition to trade, it was constantly filled with public announcements of verdicts, city celebrations, joyful processions, and even bloody executions. Life unfolded in front of everyone’s eyes — the city was relentlessly, completely “public.”

We look up and see two uneven towers made of red brick. This is Kościół Mariacki / St. Mary’s Church, officially known as Bazylika Mariacka / St. Mary’s Basilica. Where does this name come from? Mariacki / Marian is an old Polish adjective derived from the name Maria (Mary). The church is dedicated to the Wniebowzięcie Najświętszej Marii Panny / Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary. At a time when people did not carry smartphones with clocks in their pockets, it was church bells that regulated the rhythm of the entire city. Their sounds marked the daily routine: time for prayer, time for work, time for rest, and the moment when the city gates were closed.
Every hour, from the higher tower, we can hear a melody played on a trumpet. This is the hejnał / bugle call (a word of Hungarian origin, meaning “dawn” or “awakening”). You have certainly heard the beautiful legend about the trumpeter whose throat was pierced by a Tatar arrow, causing the melody to suddenly break off.

It is indeed a beautiful story! However, the interrupted melody does not actually commemorate the Tatar invasion — this legend was added much later, most likely in the 1920s.
The tradition of playing from the tower itself is much older and originally had a purely practical purpose. A watchman stationed on the tower looked out for fires and approaching enemies, and used the trumpet to signal, among other things, sunrise and sunset — the opening and closing of the city gates. After the gates were closed, a kind of “night-time silence” was enforced in the city. After a certain hour, making noise in the streets was forbidden, and the city guards were responsible for ensuring that the nighttime order was respected.

As we walk around Rynek / the Market Square, pay attention to the beautiful façades of the buildings. Let’s stop at the large, elegant building on the right side of Wieża Ratuszowa / the Town Hall Tower, known as Pałac pod Baranami / the Palace Under the Rams. Why “Under the Rams”? The explanation can be found in the history of the Polish language and the way cities were organized in the past.
There were once no addresses in the modern sense — with a street name and a number (for example, Rynek Główny 27 / Main Market Square 27). Instead, buildings were identified by visual signs known as godła / house emblems. The carved rams on the façade served like a sign visible from a distance. But they were also something more — a symbol designed to remain in people’s memories and distinguish this particular place from all the other houses around the square.

Kraków, in fact, had a very strong tradition of “storytelling” names and resisted the European trend of numbering houses for a very long time. Even in the 18th century, residents commonly used the old names of townhouses, ignoring the plain, practical numbers.
A few steps further, we pass a building known as Kamienica pod Kruki / the House Under the Ravens. Ravens — these exceptionally intelligent black birds — have long been associated in culture with mystery, magic, and the unknown. Such a name could therefore have been a very practical landmark for a foreign merchant, but it may also have reflected the building’s unique character or perhaps the profession of its owner.
In old Kraków, the names of townhouses were like short, colourful stories about the people who built them and shaped their history. And what is especially fascinating — these “picture addresses” were not permanent at all. A name could change and often changed along with the ownership of the building itself.

We leave the lively Rynek / Market Square behind. I turn onto Ulica Szewska / Szewska Street.
Where does this name come from? From the word szewc / shoemaker — a person who makes and repairs shoes. It was a very important profession in a city where pedestrians wore out their footwear on cobblestones and in the mud! When I think about the streets around Rynek / the Market Square, another one comes to mind: Ulica Bracka / Bracka Street. Once again, the name speaks for itself. It comes from the religious brothers — the Franciscans, known as the Bracia Mniejsi / Friars Minor — who had extensive buildings in this area.
At that time, Kraków was a powerful city of monasteries, religious orders, and spiritual communities, where many people lived according to strict rules. Name “Bracka” / “Brotherly” is a trace of that closed world — a world no longer visible to our eyes today, but permanently preserved in the Polish language.
Walking along this street, I feel that it is much quieter than Rynek / the Market Square, as if its stones still carried the memory of an older, contemplative rhythm of life.
Few of today’s passers-by know that Ulica Bracka / Bracka Street was once far more “monastic” than it is today, and that many of the great religious buildings that surrounded it simply disappeared or drastically changed their purpose over the centuries.

But what about other Kraków streets? Nearby, we have Ulica Gołębia / Gołębia Street and Ulica Jagiellońska / Jagiellońska Street. The first name obviously comes from the ever-present birds — pigeons. According to legend, these gołębie/pigeons are actually knights of Prince Henryk Probus / Henry IV Probus who were magically transformed into birds. The second street takes its name from the royal Jagiellonowie / Jagiellonian dynasty, which strongly supported the local university. Let’s enter the former Dzielnica Uniwersytecka / University District, also known as the Kwartał Łaciński / Latin Quarter.
In earlier centuries, Kraków was an exceptionally diverse city. It was a truly multilingual place. On the streets around the university and the market square, people could hear not only Polish, but also Latin (the language of scholarship and the Church), German, Italian, and even Eastern languages and dialects spoken by visiting merchants.
The university also brings up another interesting topic. Żacy / medieval students are often remembered with a sense of nostalgia. The truth, however, is that after the founding of the Akademia Krakowska / Kraków Academy, students had a very poor reputation in the city. They were considered extremely noisy.
As their numbers grew, the streets saw more nighttime disturbances, fights in taverns, and constant conflicts with respectable townspeople.

If we are thinking about meaningful names, let’s take a look at Ulica Stolarska / Stolarska Street. Here, once again, the name is even more direct. It comes from the craftsmen who worked here: a stolarz / carpenter is a specialist who works with wood. These were skilled masters without whom city residents could not have lived comfortably or built their homes.
In the Middle Ages, streets were very often named after the trades and guilds that were concentrated there. Just like the previously mentioned Ulica Szewska / Szewska Street, Ulica Stolarska / Stolarska Street was no exception.
For people of that time, this was an extremely practical urban map: you went to one street to order new furniture, to another to buy meat from the butchers, and to another for bread from the baker. The city was logically organized according to crafts and professions.

We continue our walk around Rynek Główny / the Main Market Square. If you look at a map of the city, you will notice something fascinating about the streets leading away from the square towards the north and west. Ulica św. Anny / St. Anne’s Street , Ulica św. Jana / St. John’s Street , Ulica św. Marka / St. Mark’s Street , Ulica św. Tomasza / St. Thomas’s Street … Where did so many saints come from here? Is it simply an expression of the religious devotion of the city’s former inhabitants?

The answer is much more practical and once again shows us how logically organized old Kraków was.
In the Middle Ages, streets were named after the most important and recognizable landmark they led to. And what was the largest stone building on a given street, often visible from a great distance? Of course — the church!
These saints were therefore not chosen randomly from the calendar. They were the patrons of specific churches and religious orders that stood along these streets (and most of them are still there today).
It was a kind of medieval urban GPS navigation system. Looking for the Church of Saint John? Walk along Ulica św. Jana / St. John’s Street. Looking for the little Church of Saint Mark? Turn onto Ulica św. Marka / St. Mark’s Street.
Simple — and brilliant.

But these names also hide fascinating stories of change and reveal how a city can transform over time. Let’s take, for example, ulicę św. Anny/Saint Anna’s Street . Today, its name comes from the magnificent Baroque… Kolegiata św. Anny / Collegiate Church of St. Anne . Święta Anna / Saint Anne is the patron saint of the university, which is extremely significant here, because this street is where the heart of Kraków’s oldest university beats (the famous Collegium Maius stands here).
However, did you know that in the Middle Ages this street was called Ulica Żydowska / Jewish Street?
It was here, right next to Rynek / the Market Square, that the original centre of Kraków’s Jewish community was located, before the king ordered the community to move to a separate town — Kazimierz.
The change of the name from Żydowska / Jewish Street to św. Anny / St. Anne’s Street is a perfect example of how the urban space can “erase” certain words and replace them with new ones over time.

For a moment, let’s move to the incredibly atmospheric Ulica Kanonicza / Kanonicza Street. I absolutely love this street — it is, in my opinion, one of the most picturesque places in Poland.
Once again, the name is wonderfully specific — it comes from the ecclesiastical title kanonik / canon. Canons were members of the cathedral chapter — clergy belonging to the elite of the Church. They were usually well educated, and many of them were connected with the royal court on Wawel / Wawel Castle and held important religious and state positions.
Ulica Kanonicza / Kanonicza Street is a phenomenon on a global scale. It is one of Kraków’s oldest streets and has miraculously preserved its original medieval layout almost completely unchanged.
What is more, in the past, the people who lived here were only a step away from the king. As a result, the buildings and the palaces of the canons were far more “representative” and expensive than the houses found on many other streets.

I return to the main route and continue south until the pavement slowly begins to rise. The stone path leading up to Wawel / Wawel Hill begins. I have always been fascinated by this unusual name — it sounds almost magical. Linguists still debate its origins today.
One theory suggests that the word Wawel (from the older form wąwel) comes from an ancient, now-forgotten Slavic term describing a natural elevation — a place rising clearly above the surrounding flat landscape.
Another equally popular scholarly theory says that it referred to a dry, safe area located among marshes, wetlands, and swamps.
Both theories fit the geography of this place perfectly. And indeed — this limestone hill has been much more than just a random point on a map since the very beginning of human history.
Few people remember that Wawel / Wawel Hill was densely inhabited long before the magnificent city at its foot was created. Since the Paleolithic period, settlements existed here; this was the most important tribal stronghold, and this rocky hill became an early centre of power, long before Kraków was founded at its base. You could say that Wawel / Wawel Hill “drew” the city up around it.

Zamek Królewski na Wawelu / The Wawel Royal Castle was also an incredibly complex structure. It was not simply a closed palace for one royal family.
Wawel / Wawel Hill was more like a small town of its own — a noisy, lively place with its own rhythm of life: with enormous kitchens, smoky craft workshops, crowds of servants, numerous officials, and courtiers.
Everyday life, filled with the smells of cooking food and the sounds of tools, unfolded on this hill alongside the great affairs of state and politics that decided the outcomes of wars.
And underground? Legends say that a monster lived in a limestone cave beneath the castle.
Once again, the dictionary gives us a fascinating clue — the word smok / dragon (as in Smok Wawelski / the Wawel Dragon) is a very old word, dating back to the Proto-Slavic language, and originally referred to a monster, reptile, or great serpent.

I climb higher, finally reaching the top near the Renaissance castle. I stop for a while, breathing in the lighter air. I approach the cool, brick wall and look down.
Below me flows the Wisła / Vistula River. This mighty river carries a name that is among the absolute oldest in our lands. It reaches back into the depths of history — to times long before the creation of the Polish state, and even before the emergence of the Slavic language we speak today.
Its linguistic roots lie in Proto-Indo-European languages (from the root weys), where it simply referred to water, a river, flowing — something absolutely fundamental for survival, something eternal and unchanging.
It is as if ancient people did not need to describe it with any additional words. Wisła / Vistula was simply “the water.” I look at it from the castle walls and think that this view from above is perhaps the simplest and most beautiful summary of the character of this city.

However, you should know that today’s river looks very different from the one known in the times of kings.
In the Middle Ages and in the centuries that followed, the Wisła / Vistula River constantly changed its course. The concrete-lined riverbank we see today belongs to a completely different world.
Back then, the river was much wider, with many fast-flowing branches. It divided the city into islands and was extremely difficult to control during the frequent floods. At the same time, it was the highway of its era! Wisła / Vistula was used for large-scale transport of goods. From Kraków, flisacy / raftsmen (people who transported goods by floating them down the river) travelled downstream, carrying timber from nearby forests, valuable salt from nearby Wieliczka / Wieliczka Salt Mine, and Polish grain — all the way to the sea, to Gdańsk / Gdańsk.
At a time when land roads disappeared into mud, the river was a window to the wider world.
Overland transport was a nightmare, especially in winter. Snow and freezing temperatures in old Kraków were a real problem that could completely paralyse trade from one day to the next, immobilise carts, and bring the daily life of the entire city to a standstill. Because of all this, people generally travelled very little beyond their immediate surroundings. Tourist trips simply did not exist.
For many ordinary Kraków craftsmen, their entire lives were limited to just a few streets around their family home. The world of an average person in those times was physically much “smaller” and far more restricted than the world we know today.

I slowly walk down from Wawel / Wawel Hill along the gentle slope towards the river, thinking back on this intense and fascinating journey. I think about all those remarkable yet ordinary streets that I pass almost every day, often without a second thought.
Only now do I realize that their seemingly strange or ordinary names are, in fact, like precise historical labels left behind from the past.

Stare Miasto / the Old Town — with its preserved, original street names, their simplicity, and at the same time their deep meaning for the Polish language — is a true city monument, but not one made of lifeless stone.
To me, it is like a vast, centuries-old, wide-open book. A book that you can read, explore, and decipher on your own, with joy, again and again without end.

So, if you are learning Polish, I wholeheartedly recommend this method to you. Words do not have to live only inside dictionaries and textbooks. They are all around you — tangible and present in the world you see every day.
All you need to do is take a long, unhurried walk and finally start paying close attention to these wonderful words, filled with historical meaning, that people have patiently preserved in Kraków’s urban landscape for centuries.
Thank you for joining me on this journey. Take care, and see you at the next turn in history!

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The author of the article is Anna Krzeczkowska-Ślusarczyk —a graduate in Polish studies, a film scholar, and a translator who edits publications on local history and heritage. She co-authors books that document the history and heritage of places and communities, particularly in projects related to Kraków and Wieliczka.