Łapalice Castle
For the story behind Łapalice, one must track back to 1984, for it was then that a Gdańsk-based sculptor by the name of Piotr Kazimierczak presented a modest plan to the authorities for a 170 sq/m residence and art studio. Given the green light, Kazimierczak then proceeded to not just bend the rules, but to construct a 6,000 sq/m castle that was almost breathtaking in its absurdity.
Suffused in allegorical meaning, its 352 windows represented the days of the year and the 52 rooms the number of weeks. The dozen towers, on the other hand, were a salute to both the 12 apostles and number of months.
Kazimierczak’s outlandish vision, however, was never fully realized. Construction creaked to a halt in 1991 and never resumed, and 15 years later local councilors issued an order to demolish what stood. But this, too, never happened, and today Łapalice has become a bucket list destination for Poland’s urbex photographers.
Bristling with unfinished turrets and soaring pointed towers, its similarity to Hogwarts was not lost on an international group of Harry Potter fans who, around a decade back, started a crowdfunding drive to purchase it and turn it into a wizard-themed attraction.
Although that idea quietly fizzled out, the castle did later enjoy 15 minutes of fame when it was used as a backdrop for Netflix’s adaptation of The Witcher.
Nestled in woodland around an hour west of Gdańsk, Łapalice could yet have a future. Towards the end of 2023, regional authorities granted permission for building work to resume and rumors today swirl that this bizarre empty shell will one day become a hotel.
Tykocin Castle
The north-eastern town of Tykocin - a short ride from Białystok - is primarily celebrated for its attractive town square and rich Jewish heritage. However, added value is supplied by the presence of a castle on the outskirts of town.
If on first viewing it looks box fresh and brand new, then that’s because it actually is. Inaugurated in 2011, the castle’s construction is attributed to a local businessman named Jacek Nazarko. Once speaking to the press about his decision to build it, Nazarko admitted that it had been quite the slog: “There were times that I regretted getting involved. I took out loans and sold possessions: a holiday home in Krynica, a boat, a vintage car – but never did I think that it wouldn’t be finished.”
With its cornerstone laid in 2002, the castle one sees now was once the site of a 15th century fortification built for a Lithuanian nobleman. Enjoying a brief spell of prominence, it appealed so much to King Zygmunt that the monarch is said to have relocated his personal library there (later, his body would lie in the crypt for a year before being buried).
These glorious chapters, however, were followed by centuries of misfortune. Hit by a steady stream of fires, sieges, catastrophes and floods, by the time the German army passed through during WWI all that was left were a heap of ruins - soon, these too disappeared, carted off by the Germans to pave roads.
Were it not for Nazarko’s vision, the story of Tykocin Castle could have easily ended there. Making use of architectural sketches discovered in a St. Petersburg archive, the businessman embarked on a bold plan to rebuild what had once stood before.
Today, Tykocin Castle cuts a curious yet compelling sight. Incorporating several historic items discovered during the excavation process, the reconstruction blends old with new, yet has been convincing enough to attract not just tourists but even a resident ghost: Queen Barbara Radziwiłł. According to one lurid story, one guest staying at the castle’s hotel was so startled to see Barbara floating around that he ran into the corridor stark naked and screaming.
Stobnica Castle
No castle has scandalized Poland in recent years more than Stobnica in the country’s west. Built in the protected Natura 2000 conservation area, for many it has become symbolic of the nation’s impotence when it comes to safeguarding the environment. “All we need now is a shopping mall in the forests of Białowieża and a Biedronka on the Kasprowy Ridge,” wrote one online critic.
Reportedly costing 400 million złotys, Stobnica has faced flak not just for disturbing the local wildlife, but through the tasteless audacity of its gauche ostentation.
Touting a 70-meter tower perching over a man-made island, its story remains cloaked in secrecy - so much so, that of the wilder legends, a handful of conspiracy theorists have even claimed that Poland’s richest man, Jan Kulczyk, faked his death to live here.
The subject of several court battles, appeals, and legal wrangles, the castle’s completion is finally edging closer. Eventually set to play host to 46 luxury apartments, the management have already staged a couple of medieval-themed events in this controversial creation.
Katarzynin Palace
Fans of Katarzynin Palace claim it looks “like something from Cinderella”. Others draw parallels to Château de Chambord in the Loire. Its detractors, though, are many. Less generous with their words, enemies of the palace have called it “Gargamel's House”, “Shrek’s Castle”, and “a monument to megalomania”. Tellingly, those are not the most barbed assessments one will find via Google.
Designed to serve as the four-star Cztery Wieże Hotel, construction kicked-off in 2016 only to effectively cease in 2018 when workers downed tools. Having already cost the anonymous investor 16.5 million złotys, rumors that construction will one day restart have consistently proven false.
As such, what stands is an abandoned Disney-style landmark that brings to mind the fantastical and wacky world of Michael Jackson’s Neverland Ranch. Located in central Poland, 12 kilometers from Kościan, Katarzynin Palace looks forever doomed to be regarded as one of the country’s most spectacular white elephants.
Poznań Royal Castle
Peering over the Old Town, Poznań’s Royal Castle has been widely vilified, with one critic even calling it “an architectural cancer”. Occupying the footprint of a 13th century fort that once loomed over the town, the original was allegedly the largest castle in the entire kingdom of Poland.
This, though, was not its only claim to fame. The stage of one of the biggest murder mysteries of the period, it was here that Ludgarda, the wife of Przemysł II, was brutally strangled to death in 1283. Ever since, her ghostly form has prowled the area at night, occasionally trailed by a weeping knight dressed in black.
Burned down in 1536 during the great fire that engulfed the city, it was later rebuilt in Renaissance style - this too, however, faced an ignominious end and was left in ruin when the city was sacked in the 18th century.
Built this century between 2010 and 2016, Version 3.0 has faced heavy criticism for its near complete lack of historical integrity. With no firm evidence indicating what the castle originally looked like, the latest manifestation has been slammed as “a work of fiction” that lacks any historic value or relevance.
Perhaps even worse, naysayers have also been quick to note the visibly inauthentic building materials. Rather than using hand-formed, wood-molded bricks, the castle was instead built using the type of hollow, modern bricks found on a contemporary residential estate.
Attitudes have started to soften, however, and despite its aesthetic awkwardness the castle’s tower has become an unmistakable element of the Old Town’s silhouette.
Muszyna Castle
Of the newer rebuilds, Muszyna in southern Poland has proved one of the more successful. Voted this year as one of “the wonders of Poland” by readers of National Geographic Polska, this 15th century castle was originally built to protect the trade route running from Hungary.
Eventually abandoned in the 18th century, its degradation was accelerated not just by swag-seeking treasure hunters but by local building firms pillaging the stonework.
What had become a romantic, haunting ruin has, though, been gifted a second life. Beginning in 2020, Muszyna’s painstaking reconstruction finally bore fruit last autumn when the castle was reopened to the public. Widely praised by many, a small minority have questioned the need to reverse the natural progression of history.
