Breakfast was at eight. The company of singers feasted on sandwiches of meat, cheese, cucumbers, tomatoes and jelly with a side of eggs, tea and warm early sunshine laying through the front door. Breakfast conversations, by now, have become gentler, tinged with shared experience and familiarity.
Nine was departure time for Malbork Castle, confirmed to be the largest castle in the world. Roll-call was as excruciating as usual. The Hope singers are a group of intelligent, well-trained, highly-talented people, but one thing we lack, the ability to recall and spit numbers quickly. It eludes us still after two successful tours. Number one, though, is always precisely on time (a’ hem).
Malbork Castle was everything it should have been. It was built by the Teutonic knights in medieval times. The Teutonic knights were a marauding band of devoted celibates lusting after a nice plot of heathenish land to conquer. Since they couldn’t get Jerusalem, they settled for a marshy corner of Poland and comforted their egos with architecture.
For a good two and half hours we were privileged to stand in ancient spaces elbow to elbow with a hundred other sweating tourists. We visited giant feasting halls. The summer feasting hall had a cannonball lodged directly left of the middle column, courtesy of some ambitious anti-Teutonic army. There was a massive kitchen with a pulley system to carry the food up to the feasting halls so the Teutonic knights didn’t have to stomach seeing their servants’ faces. There was roseless rose gardens, Mennonite tombstones, more tombstones of various Teutonic knights, letters sealed with wax, wishing wells, statues with missing heads, states with missing torsoses, statues with nothing but heads, moats, drawbridges, many tiny locked doors (it made one wonder what was beyond them…), and everything patterned in green and yellow. All in all, it was an excellent pile of red brick. Number one’s personal favorite touch was the statue of a magnificent pelican with its wings half-lifted perched on top of the well in the courtyard of the high castle. The audio guide said that legend had it pelicans feed their young with their own blood; therefore, it was adopted as a symbol of the sacrificial Christ. But a certain choir member who is prone to literalism claimed pelicans do not feed their young with blood and never have fed their young with blood. All I say is God bless their literal soul.
Of course you most likely wish to know how our last concert for the northern tour went. I shall tell you. It was robed in black velvet. The crowd was small and struggled with weak clapping abilities. But we rallied and rendered the cleanest rendition of “Eventide” yet as our forgiveness (just kidding, they were a great crowd). Sharon fought off her nausea like a true champion of Hope singers and soloed gloriously as always. As for the rest of the songs, well, who’s to say? Ubi Caritas had had its moment the previous evening in the Catholic cathedral, it didn’t need to get all the glory.
Afterwards we walked up a hill littered with fat slugs, past a gleaming lake, and through a sleepy town to a small church house where a vivacious family fed us well. The kids were the best waiters and delivered new plastic forks whenever we snapped them. We sang a lusty Danke Schone to them as a small offering of thanksgiving, hugged them goodbye and walked back to the bus avoiding the fat slugs and licking up the last few bits of sunset left on the horizon. By 10:30, everyone was in bed sleeping beautifully with their clothes packed and ready to go to Gdańsk tomorrow. We are a truly responsible group, you can tell by our roll call abilities. Just kidding, Number one be joking. We are not that responsible. There was plenty of stargazing to be done and rook games to finish up before bedtime. But I challenge anyone to find fault with our dedication to the coolest thing we get to do in July/August 2024, which is to be a Hope singer. Finally, The words of the famous poet e. e. cummings says all the things well:

“ i thank You God for most this amazing
day: for the leaping greenly spirits of trees
and a blue true dream of sky; and for everything
which is natural which is infinite which is yes”