My God fancy going to Auschwitz the place where over a million people were murdered and the thing that stays with you is that they don’t do oat milk or decaf.
You stand on ground soaked in that history. You walk past the barracks, the ramp, the ruins of the gas chambers.
And what you film, what you caption, what you tell the internet is: the smoothie was watery, the lemonade tasted off, two drinks cost nine quid, and it’s all a bit of a money-making scheme.
That is not a small lapse in manners. That is a complete failure to understand where you are.
This is not a visitor centre with a dark theme. It is a grave. The café exists so people who spend hours there can drink water. It is not the point of the visit. The point is memory.
The point is that human beings did this to other human beings, and we are supposed to leave different than we arrived.
If the absence of alternative milk is the story you take home, you did not visit Auschwitz.
You just happened to be standing on it.
Here’s a tip for you two….Read the room.
Show some respect. Some places are not content.