Reconstructing the past could leave you a brick short, too

I nodded and made the requisite sympathetic noises, but I wanted to say, "Listen, buddy, I just came from Warsaw, Poland. Don't boo-hoo to me about wanton destruction during the war."
I was reminded of that conversation during a recent visit to the Historical Museum of Warsaw as I looked at the June 1, 1943, order from Nazi Governor General of Poland Hans Frank (no relation) to obliterate Warsaw. The order, in translation, read: "The Polish Republic, or any other Polish state, will never again be revived."
It became clear that for all the fun we make about the city and its appearance, Warsaw is a survivor. It has rebuilt, remodeled and rebounded from the Swedish invasion in the 17th century, the partitions of the late 18th century and the subsequent uprisings, the total destruction by the Nazis during World War II, and the blandness and faulty city planning of 44 years of communist rule. To get an idea of what the city was like and what it might have been like if not for the spasms of destruction over the centuries, visit the Historical Museum of Warsaw and the Royal Castle. Their displays, models, drawings, photographs show that Warsaw was a gem. (Though from what I've seen, the National Museum has always been butt-ugly.)
One of the gems was the Royal Castle, which served as a residence and the seat of Parliament in the old days; now it's a museum and the site for swank parties and receptions.
The castle tour can be somewhat confusing with its two routes, its permanent exhibitions and temporary exhibitions, and its detached ticket office (located at ul. Swietojanska 2). You kind of just have to go and take what they give, which is what I did.
My guide said my first tour of the Royal Castle will give me a general idea of its history and contents. If I take a second tour, I'll receive more details. Finally, on a third visit, I'd get the real dirt - the mistakes made in the restoration, he said. Who the hell has time for three tours?
Regardless, after about 15 minutes of looking at paintings, parquet floors, gold detail work, statues, woodwork and a fine chamber pot collection, everything starts to blur, except for the nudes - women posing with one breast exposed. That never gets old. Unless you're the model in the drafty old castle.
So we proceeded to the first floor and the kings' apartments and, first thing, a portrait of one of the Zygmunts showing him in the same slippers we had to wear to protect the floors. (Score fashion points)
The placards in English list the riches in each room, but a tour provides details (even if some are withheld for subsequent tours), such as the statues of Apollo and Minerva sporting the faces of King Stanislaw August Poniatowski and Catherine II; the room where Napoleon met his Polish girlfriend, Maria Walewska; the 300-year-old clock that still keeps time, as well as the day and date; the busts of Thomas Jefferson and George Washington (FOK - Friends of Kosciuszko).
To get an idea of what Warsaw looked like during the 18th century, check out the room devoted to paintings by "Canaletto." The paintings are so detailed that you can always find something you didn't notice the first time. One of those details might be that the painter was actually Bernardo Bellotto, Canaletto's nephew, who appropriated his uncle's name in order to sell the paintings to the unsuspecting. (If no one has a problem with this, I'll just change my byline to Dave Barry.)
To focus more on Warsaw, head over to the Old Town Square and the Warsaw Historical Museum - four floors and 60 rooms dedicated to Warsaw's history, from its origins to the end of communism. The museum has statues, copies of paintings, documents, coins, photographs, models detailing the city's 700-year history.
The museum is laid out in chronological order, so you start with the origins of Warsaw, in the 13th century, and proceed through the Swedish wars and the partitions and uprisings to the time between the wars, World War II, the communist era to the present day.
A guided tour isn't necessary as many of the objects have placards in Polish, English, German and French. Or, you might bump into someone who can be your museum guide (and who might be a museum piece if not for a pulse). My wife, a friend from the States and I met our guide, Lady Kristina, right off the bat when she immediately earned our admiration by fending off the coat check constables.
Our admiration quickly turned to concern and then fright. Lady Kristina would remark about some of the exhibits and then ask us questions, such as what we each did for a living. Our friend said he designed custom bicycle frames, whereupon Lady Kristina responded, "It's too bad Lady Diana didn't have a better frame in her car." We looked at each other: How long do you have to listen to a crazy woman before it is socially acceptable to ditch her?
Abandoned by my wife and friend, I escorted Lady Kristina through the rest of the museum until we reached the museum's moving display on World War II and the Polish resistance. Lady Kristina told me about a Japanese couple she met in Nice, France, and how in Japan during World War II the guy said he had heard a voice tell him to build a bunker-like structure behind a hill. He did it and thus saved himself and family from the atom bomb. "Now," she said, "you don't have voices without a body, so somebody was telling him this." Her theory: He was intercepting ultra-high-frequency radio waves weeks before the bombing and this was the voice that suggested ...
I got the hell out of there.
IF YOU GO ...
Run away from anyone named Lady Kristina.