Main Town Hall, Gdańsk

Stand at the point where Long Street opens into Long Market and look up. The brick turns from a deep red to almost brown where the shade falls across it. Above you a slender spire climbs into the sky, and at its very top a small golden figure catches the light. Around you, feet move over worn paving stones. Somewhere a street musician is tuning up. This is the Main Town Hall of Gdańsk, and for centuries it was the place where this merchant city decided its own fate.

To understand the building, it helps to understand the city. Gdańsk sits near the mouth of the Vistula, Poland's great river, where it meets the Baltic Sea. For hundreds of years, grain, timber and amber came down the river and left on ships from this port. Gdańsk belonged to the Hanseatic League, a powerful network of trading towns around northern Europe. Wealth flowed in, and the city's leaders wanted a hall that showed it.

The town hall you see grew over a long period. Work began in the late Middle Ages, and the building took its Gothic shape over the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries. Gothic here means pointed forms, tall vertical lines and a great deal of brick. Stone was scarce in this region, so builders across the Baltic coast learned to do remarkable things with fired clay. Look at the walls closely and you can see the rhythm of the bricks, laid course by course.

Now raise your eyes to the tower. It is the tallest element on this street, and it was meant to be seen from far away. In the middle of the sixteenth century, a fire damaged the upper part. When the city rebuilt it, the new top was lighter and more decorative, in the spirit of the Renaissance. That is why the tower feels like two styles stacked together: solid Gothic below, elegant and airy above.

That golden figure at the summit is the first surprise. It represents King Sigismund Augustus, one of the last kings of the Jagiellonian dynasty of Poland. Gdańsk had strong privileges and a great deal of self-government, but it recognised the Polish king as its sovereign. Placing his likeness on top of the town hall was a careful political gesture. It honoured the crown, while the council below kept running the city's daily affairs.

Listen for a moment. If you are lucky with your timing, you may hear bells from the tower. The town hall has a carillon, a set of tuned bells played to form melodies. Carillons were popular in the Low Countries and along the Baltic, and Gdańsk had close ties with Dutch and Flemish craftsmen. Those connections show up again and again inside this building, as you will see if you go in.

The interior today is part of the Museum of Gdańsk, and the most famous room is the Red Hall. This was the meeting chamber of the city council. The walls are covered in rich red fabric, and the ceiling is filled with painted panels set in carved, gilded wood. Many of the paintings are by Isaac van den Blocke, an artist from a family with Flemish roots. The decoration dates from around the turn of the seventeenth century.

At the centre of that ceiling is a painting often called the Apotheosis of Gdańsk. An apotheosis is an image that raises something to divine glory. Here, the city itself is the subject. You see Gdańsk shown under heaven's blessing, with the river, the trade and the busy port below. The message to the councillors was clear. Every decision made in this room happened under the eyes of God and for the good of the city.

Here is the second surprise. Much of what you see is not original in the simple sense. At the end of the Second World War, in 1945, Gdańsk was heavily destroyed. The Main Town was largely burned, and the town hall lost its roof and much of its tower. Fortunately, many of the precious interior fittings had been removed and hidden before the fighting reached the city.

After the war, restorers and builders spent years bringing the building back. They worked from photographs, drawings and surviving fragments. The saved decorations from the Red Hall returned to their places. So when you stand inside, you are seeing a blend: genuine Renaissance craftsmanship set into walls that were carefully reconstructed in the decades after 1945. Both parts belong to the story of this place, and both took great skill.

Step back outside and look at the façade near the entrance. You will find the city's coat of arms: two white crosses under a golden crown on a red shield, often held by a pair of lions. You will see this emblem all over Gdańsk, on buildings, flags and even drain covers. Once you notice it here, it is hard to stop seeing it as you walk through the old town.

Turn around and take in the street itself. This route through the Main Town is known as the Royal Way, because kings entered the city along it during ceremonial visits. Just beyond the town hall lies Long Market, with the bronze Neptune Fountain and Artus Court, where merchants once met and feasted. Tall, narrow townhouses line both sides. Their decorated gables show how much the families who lived here wanted to be noticed.

If the tower is open during your visit, the climb is worth considering. The stairs are narrow and there are many of them, so take your time. From the top, the old town opens out below you. You can follow the red roofs down to the river, pick out the giant brick bulk of Saint Mary's Church nearby, and see cranes and shipyards on the horizon. It is the best way to understand how compact this merchant city really was.

Before you move on, pause one more time at the foot of the tower. Notice the people around you: tourists with cameras, locals crossing on their way to work, children running toward the fountain. The council no longer meets in the Red Hall, but this corner is still the heart of Gdańsk. As you walk away down Long Market, glance back once. The golden king will still be there, catching the last of the light above the rooftops.