Like Krakow to the east, Wroclaw (pronounced vrots-wav) is steeped in history. Touched by the Habsburgs and the Silesians, the Prussians and the Poles, and—perhaps most destructively—the Soviets, the town is a patchwork of architectural styles that thrums with stories of the past.

At its very centre stands the oldest district of the lot; Wroclaw’s Stare Miasto (Old Town)—a sea of red-tiled roofs and baroque buildings that revolves around the giant Rynek (Market Square). Today, this flag-stoned mass of space is a hubbub of bars, clubs and restaurants touting steamy bowls of pierogi dumplings; the epicentre of this lightly-hedonistic party town and home to one glorious municipal hall. Nearby, the islands of Ostrów Tumski sit like Gothic jewels amidst the waters of the Oder River, their fairy-tale streets of cobblestone spiked by the filigreed spires of the city cathedral.

There’s also plenty of action after-dark. Wroclaw tour guides tout bar crawls through the myriad micro-breweries, vodka bars throb with inebriated students, and classical tunes issue forth from the opera and philharmonic theatres—heavily weighted towards Chopin, of course.