Back into POLAND May 22, 2014

Back into POLAND May 22, 2014



As we come close to the border, leaving the Ukraine, a sign catches our eye, 'SEE YOU AGAIN'. Sadly, probably not, but I hope many Europeans, Canadians and Americans come to visit you! They will love your country!



Well, the border was a hassle. We had to take much of our 'stuff' out of the car. Three guys it took, three curious guys. One just stood behind with a half smile on his face, thinking maybe that they were over-doing it. “And under here?” The stove, sink...look in the refrigerator. Food storage cabinets. Whew, glad that's over with. I hope they at least enjoyed themselves.


A pristine, long shadowed evening drive calms our nerves. 7:00 pm. New hops grow up strings in lines of a field. A feeling of well being pervades. The sweet smell of freshly mowed grasses and grains in the air. A sign says UWAGA. ?? Caution, maybe? We are on a temporary one lane traffic pattern with special lights. Birds chirp out their last songs of the day. Joggers run in the coolness of evening. Baby carraiges pushed by family members out for a stroll. And in the rural area again, rivers are flooded, making lakes over fields. The good smell of burning leaves. Church spires of villages in the distance. A farmer drives his tractor slowly home after a long day. Make way for the farmer. He is an important member of these farming communities. Bicycles race by us on a trail, the ride must be gorgeous except for car noise and fumes!



We pull into a town. We are hungary. I start dinner while David takes advantage of the evening light in a cemetery. At this time of day things look quite lively...the headstones are decked with bright flowers and other treasured objects. There is good definition of darkness and light. Rich color. It seems the dead could be happy here.






May 23


We wake to flower stalls set up outside the cemetery gates. Memorial Day? Day of the Dead? Stalls of bright wreaths and sprays line the fences. Business is not great. A steady stream of people arrive with buckets and scrubbers to clean off their family stones, and clippers to trim the weeds. Two volunteers sweep the sidewalk gutters where people will be walking today. Another volunteer pushes a gas mower along the lawns at pathside. More vendors show up...putting up bright tents of yellow, blue and green...but most people arrive with their own more casual flower arrangements, maybe cut from their gardens.






In the afternoon we are in Lublin. Everyone has told us not to miss this place. A really good 'old town', great for walking. The ambiance is fantastic! Buildings are decorated and painted in intricate patterns. A few structures are left untouched, with the historical patina still upon them. The contrast of both is effective. The cathedral has frescos. They are not very exciting...but then, we realize that if we had not seen so many frescos in better shape...this would have prooved exciting.


We people-watch and scrutinize the architecture as we sit at an outside cafe with drinks and 'starters'. It is also a good time to take photos of both people and architecture craft! The little appetizer is delicious; lemon slices, herring, lettuce, basil leaves, semi soft cheese left in a thick cut square on top. Honey mustard dressing and a drizzle of balsamic vinegar...and crusty bread. Oh, here's a threesome. Three motorcycle chicks are clicking over the cobblestones in their stilettos. Matching red helmets in hand, streaks of red down the side of their pants. Very cute! Plants hang upside down like light bulbs in terra cotta pots. Hmm. I'll have to think on the merit of that.






We walk from the square along the lower streets, to the cultural center. It is Friday night and there are many performances, held outside in a courtyard. The first group we see is eight young girls who are dressed in folk costume. They take turns singing. The language is not Polish. “Chechinco”. I have no idea what it is but it is very pretty. Maybe Russian? The girls gently dance with twirls and slow moving hand-waves, like the rolling sea. A man accompanies them on a belalika. The next group, a musical group of three; keyboard, base and guitar-singer. Great voice. Good music. During this we are all invited to help ourselves to traditional food. 'Loose' children dance to all the music. They can't help it. Lovely to watch.






In the same building we find a Pinhole Camera exhibit. (A camera that has an opening the size of a pin hole which lets in the light to expose the film.) The pictures caught here are of priests, monks, monasteries. Quiet and grey-dark. A bit mysterious.






Back in the town center we enjoy very large photos of people of the city's past, black and white/sepia. They are displayed in the windows of many buildings, framed by the window frame. This city is so interesting because the citizens make it so. Such creative ideas put into action. We find Daisy and she takes us to our home for the night, in a nice park and apartment neighborhood.






May 24


Saturday market this morning. Just a few steps away. We come away with big red radishes, white white cauliflower, cucumbers, mushrooms and cherries. The mushrooms get sliced into the breakfast omelet along with zucchini, red pepper and onion. We add a bit of mustard, rosemary and garlic. Tasty! We spend a pleasant day here. Breezes blow into the sun warmed van. David books a ferry to Helsinki. I am knitting. We have crossed the street to choose ice cream cones. Everyone walking by us is enjoying one.






In the afternoon a fellow stops by to chat. “Oh good. You are in! I have been looking at your licence plate.” He asks about our adventures. “My best wishes go with you. You are very brave. We have a good government now.” And he continues on his way. But he turns and walks back with the question, “Why would you stop here?” We answer; because it is pretty and a place we feel comfortable parking in. “But you know, here and just down the road all the apartments are communist built. They cast a shadow. One can never see the sun.” When he is gone we decide to take a walk in the direction he indicated. We look at all the apartments that cast a shadow. The surprise is, they have all been refurbished. Nice colored painted designs cover the entire walls. Each apartment block is different except for the yellow corregated walls that have been added and give them continuity. They really look nice. And so much green space with paths that many folks are taking advantage of...walking with friends or alone or with scrappy cute little dogs. It all looks pretty good to us. Perhaps our friend cannot see beyond what was.






Dinner in the van. Pear and blue cheese salad. A knock on the door. It is our friend Paul (Pawel), from this afternoon. He invites us to his apartment. We want this experience so we go. He has been drinking this afternoon so he is unfortunately inebriated, enough to color our visit. Here is what we learn about Paul, basically, a good guy:






He attended a UNESCO sponsored school where English was taught and he loves to practice it. He is pretty good. / His wife left him for another man a month ago so he is still reeling from it. He is in deep pain. Lonely and lost. / He has a 15 year old son whom is his life now. The son decided that he would like to spend the full weekends with his father. / His son has aquired a rare health problem, a fast-growing goiter on the inside that causes his breath to be short. Paul has found out that it can be stress related in young people. / Paul is a lawyer specializing in intelligence in the tax field. He makes $600 per month. Prices are low, salaries are low / He will own his 50 square foot apartment in 5 years time. One bedroom, kitchen, living room and bath. / When we approached his apartment we took a small elevator to the third floor then he unlocked his hallway gate where there are two other apartments besides his. Shoes in the hall, bicycles etc. / His furniture is simple and nice of a blond wood. Curtains are formal but never opened. It is so depressing after enjoying the pretty outside. / He has high blood pressure. His father had a heart attack at age 45. Paul is 46 and could be heading for the same thing. He is overweight mostly from beer. He is diabetic. His legs are swollen and he has a bloody toe. / Paul is very generous. He does not want us to leave. He wants us to stay the night...but for several reasons we opt to go back to our own little cheery home. He walks us back to Daisy and continues on his way to the bar (which he invites us to of course). We escape early in the morning. We do not want to get caught in Paul's life again. It is a mess and there is nothing we can do to help, maybe just listen...but we are not up to more of that.






May 25


Today I top up the year with a birthday counting 72! Still so young in the head and heart. It is difficult to realize! We are in Warsaw! Once again. It is a big bustling town that did not impress us the last time we were here...but, this time we drive loopty-loops because we are lost and see many inticing places. First on our agenda is to buy more time for our computer 'dongel'. That leads us to a very modern and a bit outrageous mall in the town center. Waves on the roof...along with huge silver balls. Crooked slanted buildings, all fun original design. Hopefully the floors inside are straight!






Mission accomplished, we find ourselves a birthday dinner in an adorable four-table restaurant on Belwederska Blvd. Restauraacja ROMA. Seafood salads and pasta to die for. Pino Grigio to accompany it and ice cream for dessert. A short walk back to the camper. We have adopted this neighborhood for our time here.






The Ukranians voted today. For some, in the eastern section, it was impossible to get to the polls. Bashing of polling booths, gun shots, a mess. But one good man is pulling ahead in thise political race.






May 26


I must get a passport photo taken today, to use for a visa into Russia. There is a photo studio around the corner so I pop in and ask the proprieter and photographer if he takes passport photos. “Of course.” His name is Sbyszek (Zbu-shek) Panek. We have a nice talk. He says his American name is Anthony Parker! It is one he has chosen and is proud of! So Anthony it is. He and his wife are learning English in a weekly class and doing well. An interesting guy. He just got back from a motorcycle (BMW) trip, alone, in Portugal and Spain. He has loved to travel all his life, and photograph. He showed me some of his beautiful pictures and we exchanged email addresses. His wife, Grace, (also her American name) goes with him sometimes, especially into Italy. He offered to print off some visa documents for us. David has worked hours on these documents. Are we getting close to finishing off this Russia entrance ordeal? For now we have gone as far as we can.






We play cards through a thunder and lightening storm. People are gawking at us. Maybe we should move the camper to another street.






May 27


We pick up documents from Anthony. We are still short some of our application forms. My, oh my. This is almost too hard for us. Should we continue? It is our only chance to see St. Petersburg.






Anthony makes me an espresso complete with a little truffle made by a 100 year old company, E. Wedel, the candy type is called a Pierrot, Anthony's favorite since he was a kid. He tells us that he 'lives to travel' so we give him travel books and maps that we will not need again. He is definitely the right recipient... is most happy to have them. Now we have space in our traveling book shelves!






We walk to the Russian embassy to see if we can get some information but it seems that this is the final pick-up place for some applicants who know what they are doing. We are not allowed in. Instead, an official comes out to the gate and thrusts a card into David's hand, telling us where we should begin the process. Before we go back to the van, we get hair cuts, a welcomed change in our day. Then we move the van a few blocks to a quieter area, placing ourselves tightly between two cars, hoping that our licence plates will not show. That is what causes the gawking!






A phone number on the Russian information card seems to be the place to start, but an automatic message answers with the information that there are no appointments open until June 17th BUT WE ARE SCHEDULED TO LEAVE FROM HELSINKI ON JUNE 19th!! No kidding, I am about ready to cry.






May 28 (Mya Angelou dies at 86)


David continues his search for help with the documents. He says, “Even a blind rooster finds an occasional kernel of corn.”






One of the joys of travel at this stage in my life is watching little children; baseball caps worn backwards on boys, pink girls' boots and umbrellas bigger than the children. Adorable, sweet and innocent. Delight and wonder in their eyes.






David drops off more travel books to Foto Kosmos. Anthony's wife is there. She also works in the studio. David says she is a lovely woman. I hope we will meet. So next, we bite the bullet and drive to IFS where we can file our documents. We plead our case...our date of departure for Russia. “Okay, you can pay more money to have the process sped up.” Of course we pay more money. “Make these changes on your documents and come back tomorrow.” Hope glimmers.






May 29th


Back to IFS (Invisa Fiduciary Services) with our changes. We are told to pick up our visas on the 5th of June. Can this be true! We will have to trust that this is so. 8 more days. After dropping our tired little net book off at a repair shop we take a long walk. It is a cold Spring day. Jackets and scarves. Along the way we look in the window of a deli. A super beautiful Polska deli. Cheese, sausage, lunch meats, crusty breads, mustard and yogurt...we buy it all. Impossible not to buy. And then we stop at a street-side truck, back open to the sidewalk full of fresh produce...again we buy, bananas (well, as fresh as they can be), cauliflower, radishes, eggs and dill pickles. This is a neighborhood of all ages, shapes and sizes, referring to both people and dogs. So many apartments, a full community. We reach our van and wonder if people are talking about us yet! Tonight it is soup with sausage and the astounding moist Polska rye bread. Mmmmmm. It is a chunk off a huge loaf.






May 30th


Well we are going to be here awhile. Let's look at a map and locate all the things we would like to do while here. Many non-working people are out this morning. Lots of grandparents taking care of little ones. And everyone has a strawberry baskets on their arm. Rectangle shape. The Poles are crazy for strawberries it seems. It is the season and these special little woven wood baskets get dug out of their kitchens cupboards and get filled almost every day. We move Daisy to another part of the city. Gypsy GPS is sick! There is scarcely a road on her, besides the main one to follow, but it does not really make sense without the big picture. All applications are affected... American, Eastern and Western Europe, Turkey. We are lost without her help. So we find her the Garmin Doctor on a small pretty street. The Garmin dealer is inside an outdoor sport shop...hunting and fishing. We find that along the way someone loaded an illegal download in the GPS...we think now, that it was while we were in Turkey. The salesperson says that they will reload it. Come back for it another day.






Today is the symphony at Filharmonia Narodowa. The music was non-traditional and wonderfully played, though I did have a love-hate relationship with one piece...very modern and discordant. Also the orchestra accompanied three soloists. Music of marshes or woodlands, crashes, plops...cap gun sound. Both orchestra and choir scream together! That is what this music is like! We chat with an interesting man. There is something about him that draws us. He is quite old, walks with difficulty. His clothes are creative but sophisticated. We exchange email addresses. Ah, he is an artist.






Later we explored our new neighborhood and territory. The streets were alive with young people. We sauntered along until we came to the Chopin Museum, beautifully lit in the dark. We turn to head back up the hill then choose Pellicano restaurant for an outside light dinner of salad and fish. Heaters kept us warm and if you chose you could wrap yourself in one of their red blankets. This is Nowy (new) Swiat street. It's hopping! We walk home to the Garmin store community.






May 31


What a sweet day we had. A 'go-nowhere-fast' day. A poke-your-nose-into- everything day. City streets, wide and narrow...open to the sky or treed tunnel-like. Through canyons of apartment buildings and businesses, dotted by small parks. Into the old town square, surrounded by bunched-up medieval buildings, their gable and roof-lines at all angles, looking like another little town in the sky. Favored Warsaw colors are pistachio green, putty, gold, light and dark peach and red-brown. The roofs are covered with a mottled red shingle. Church spires poke up above, thick blocked onion domes sit lower amongst the array. Are those bullet holes in the sandstone building? Sure enough.






A 'pinch yourself moment'. We are quite amazed that we are here in Warsaw, Poland, in the beauty of springtime, happy and affectionately close, and in good health. A kiss. Two women rush up to us. “Where are you from?!” Thumbs up!






At noon, soldiers march through the streets to the center of old town square. The sounds of their feet on the pavement is orderly but soft.






We meet an American couple from Washington DC. They tell us that they have done many cruises...all around the world. Nice folks, a moment in time with them. Paninnis for lunch.






The streets are often lined with Linden Trees. Short wide leaves with white-green berries peeking through. As we walk David teaches me about architecture. Roman, classic, neo-classic, Baroque and Roccoco. I try to name these styles back to him as we move along.






In the evening we have traditional Polish food street-side and order different kinds of vodka. Mine is made with potatoes...the lowly potato reborn! I order duck, cranberry, red cabbage and potatoes. David has pork knuckle, sauerkraut and potatoes. Then Haggendas ice cream at a stand on our route to find the American Book Store. We need some new reading material.






We reflect as we get ready for bed. Warsaw (and Poland in general) feels so free of oppression, so free from religious ideas and rules. So free to move ahead in anticipation of goals accomplished. It is a pleasure to be here.






June 1


Sunday. A lazy day in the city. We watched as a man 'unfolded a bench' and took his bike out! The bench turns into a rickshaw type vehicle. Soon we are comfy on the peddled vehicle, riding along the streets. The driver's daughter is with us...skating beside, showing off her skills by navigating a slalom course around colorful exhibition signs. We get off, hand the fellow some money and walk over to a group who are dancing and singing in a traditional costume, something close to an Inuit presentation. I talked to one of the younger boys when there was a break. Who are you people? Ah, we are Siberian. Dark hair, wide faces. I asked the name of his town. He wrote OSYOKAI. This transaction was difficult. Minimal Siberian. Minimal English! Many of the members were playing something like a Jewsharp, fingers moving back and forth in an open mouth.






Should we try the Hop On/Off bus? A disappointment, no English. We don't always remember to ask such things before we have paid and are on our way.






This is the place to be on a Sunday, this old town. It is large and fun. Childrens' Day. Balloons, stage music, lots of ice cream stands...a must treat for babies to old men. In the late afternoon the wind gusts and clouds begin to cover the sun. Pho and spring rolls for dinner.






June 2


We drop by to pick up our Garmin. They are having problems fixing it. “Are you sure that there was anything showing on the screen when you brought it in?” It seems that in an attempt to correct the problem, everything has been wiped out. Now what? They will keep trying.






With this news we follow written directions and intuition to visit our friends just outside of town in Konstancin. Michel and Joanna, their daughter and son-in-law, Ella and Thomas, and their two young sons, Janek 4 and Szyymon 6.






We have time to stop at Wilanow, a Palace and park on which grounds the Poster Museum sits. We have seen advertisements for the exhibit and are both interested...but it is closed! So instead we buy tickets to the Royal Summer Palace at Wilanow, home of King Jan III Sobieski. The exterior is so pretty, painted yellow with green accents. It is built in a 'U'shape around grassy lawns. The interior is filled to the brim with all the Royal 'stuff'. I don't care a sniff about old portraits of rich people (of which most are not very attractive). But show me ceramics from all over the world, the collection of Meissen porcelain, and I can get very excited. My favorite is a large bobble-head budda with a small hole at the top of his head through which I imagine, once had strings attached to the head and hands. A pull from above would make these parts move. Wow, look at those big ears! His smile is outrageous. He is a wonder. The decoration of the rooms also draws me. Here, thoughout the palace, playful cherubs decorate the upper walls to the ceilings. But it is time to move along to Konstancin.






We have been here before. We sleep in the van in their lovely garden. Michel has made an appointment with a doctor friend, Krystyna Drabikowska, to look at David's face and cheek for “sun spots' he feels have not healed as they should. We visit the doctor in her private home, the doctor and her beloved dogs that is. It is nice to chat with her. She has been very generous to do this, but then she is really doing it for Michel, they have known each other for most of their lives, school chums. We make another appointment to see a skin doctor in a few days. Then Michel takes us for a drive.






Salt springs in the middle of a park. A healing mist floats in the air. A structure, inside the park fence, is built to best catch the rising spring spray and turn it into a mist that is much like sea mist, turning it into a seaside spa. The structure has thick high walls of sticks, the conductors of change. The center is open to the sky. This is the second of these that we have seen, only now do we understand its meaning. We stand outside the fence on the windward side and breathe in the healing qualities.






Next Michel drives along alluring forested roads to show us beautiful large homes gone to ruin. These homes were taken away from their owners by the communist government and used for multiple families, but it was the responsibility of the owners to keep up the maintainance. Well, this was a huge burden expense-wise and soon fell into the hands of the state. After WW II the homes were given back to the original owners but few were able to bring them back to their former beauty. We saw evidence of small sections within these houses that were being lived in.






We are by a river, the same one that flows through Krakow. It is the only remaining free-flowing river and there is always talk about changing this, so its power can be used. Invironmentalists always step in to save it. It is a gorgeous river in its huge strong and wild state but it does flood, the level raising 15 feet from what David and I look at today...and it is quite high today. Michel is a river kayaker. He loves to paddle on the rivers when at low levels. The shores and islands show their golden sands. Lovely camp spots. We see evidence of beaver.






Michel takes us by a large manor house that is in good condition. It is now used as a writers' retreat. He tells us that during 'bad' times the Catholic church was always a place the Poles could go to be free of the oppression...an oasis. Also, he says that there is still a rift between the church and state. Each holds a different opinion on who should have certain authorities.






It is so green here. Many trees. Michel tells us that citizens are not allowed to cut a tree down, not even on their own property. If you need advice or help with a tree problem, the government will send someone out to you, to access the situation or give you help.






Ella is Michel and Joanna's daughter. She is the mother of two active boys and also has her own thriving business of which some can be conducted in her office at home. She works in schools all over Poland as a child consultant. Her husband Thomas, works in the family business with Michel, selling and repairing remote control devices for tower cranes and trains. Their office and workshop are in the back yard. UPS is in and out all day long. Joanna teaches at the American School and loves her long time job.






The lives of this family intertwine gently and happily. Grandparents play a lovely roll but they have their own lives. The home they all live in has a history, coming down through generations from Michel's grandfather. It is quietly nestled in its own little park, walnut and fruit trees, a vegetable garden. Tomatoes grow in a green house. Blackie and Brownie, the family dogs, are always busy somewhere, wrestling and digging and chasing the UPS trucks down the driveway. Very sweet labs. Porches and decks, ready for an outside meal or a picnic. Grampa Michel is building a rope web in a tree for the boys to play on. Tonight, for dinner, Thomas pounds and marinates meat which he will later barbecue. We added two salads to the meat and plenty of wine to drink. The barbecued meat was delicious...and so was the company.






June 3


Obama arrives in Poland today. Here is David's take on it as he writes to a friend:


“The papers, radio and TV are full of the news that 'prezydent' Obama is coming to celebrate Polands first step as a democratic republic 25 years ago, June 4, 1989, the first country to do so. The presidential cars have already arrived, red and white Polish banners hung along the streets and 40 or so leaders from other countries will celebrate this big break away from their Communistic past. Following this decision 25 years ago, nations like Czech Republic, Bulgaria, Romania, Hungary, Germany and most of the Soviet satellite countries began a new path to a more democratic government, one that most will not return to. The southern and eastern parts of the Ukraine may become the exception.”






Joanna goes swimming every morning before work, so she is 'long gone' by 8:30 when we show up. Michel has a lovely breakfast waiting for us in the family kitchen. We learn to mash our museli and yogurt together. It is pretty good this way. After two hours of talk he heads out to work. He has listened to our gloomy visa acquisition story and comments that Russia makes it hard to get a visa, so you will give up. They do not want you into their country as it will contaminate their brainwashed minds. Brainwashed minds works for them!






I spread my writing materials out on the table and work to catch up on this blog story. Then David and I make a pot of soup for dinner, one of those 'everything but the kitchen sink' varieties. A quick visit to the dermatologist proves that David's problems are healing well...then back in the afternoon to continue talks with Michel. History of Poland with maps.






June 4


Joanna has brought us our favorite bread! No flour and full of seeds. Michel tells us about more places we should see. Locally, he has directed us to some interesting buriel graves of a type we have not seen before.






All day long, Obama... Obama on the radio and in the newspapers. He has promised Poland that America will not abandon them. Poland, or the Baltic countries. But how will he accomplish this? Years ago a treaty was 'reset' and signed by the USSR, but when the country collapsed they were given back their nuclear weapons on condition that they 'do not touch the Ukraine'. Today Obama realizes that the 'reset' signing is no more in place. It is dead. He has promised to keep Poland, Latvia, Lithuania and Estonia strong. At this time, the borders of Latvia and Lithuania are not strong.








Michel says that he is positive that there are many spies incognito in all these countries – former military officers that live in the Baltics with its sandy seasides and forests. They own large villas. Michel says that the Russians who live on the 'free' side are not intereted in giving up the freedom they now know. He says that most people within Russia believe the propaganda they are fed by their leaders. Those who live outside the Russian cities cannot get internet nor the free radio it affords. Those who do have access in the cities just really don't care...especially the wealthy. They know it is all propaganda but they have what they want and need so go about their lives as if it did not exist. It is an interesting time to be here. We take photos of the news headlines and photos.






Time to go. We round up the family to say goodbye. At this moment it is Joanna, Michel and Ella...and the doggies. Wonderful people that came into our lives, and we shall always be grateful.






We drive north to meet Anthony who has our new visa cards, sent by FedEx. We have decided that it is time to have a portrait made, Anthony's the man! He does it on the spot as he has a few minutes. These days are exciting for him. The Regency hotel is close by and he has been hired to take photos of all the dignitaries that are staying there. Dressed in a suit for the day...he is 'on call'.






For two days the dignitaries have been escorted and sped through the city by many police cars. Police stand on every corner. The area around the Mariott where Obama stays is completely quiet. No cars, no people. Helicopters meander overhead and alarms sound all night long.






We meet Anthony and Grace at Foto Kosmos, their studio. We climb into their car and race through town to their favorite Italian restaurant, across from the Mariott. Everything is back to normal on the streets. Obama has gone. This restaurant is very hip, lots of metal and glass built inside a U shape courtyard surrounded by other tall buildings. We eat upstairs still looking out the glass walls, the restaurant is three stories high. Pizza. It is good. And the talk is good. Our friends love to practice their English. Next English class they will have some interesting stories to tell of their 'American' friends.






At dinner Anthony gives us 3 choices of our profile photos. We like them all, we order them all! (and enough to scatter around the family) We are getting closer to this couple. Real friends to keep.






June 5


Thursday. A big day for us...we are to pick up our Russian visas about 3:00 pm! But first we check on the GPS. Still the mystery is not solved. They have managed to erase everything and nothing works to bring it all back! So now the question is, what will they do about it. Stay tuned!






We meet our artist friend STC Stanislawa, from the symphony, at Chicago's Pizza, not to be confused with Chicago Pizza. He is waiting for us at an outside table. He seldom uses English, but we slowly talk and understand. His wife joins us for a short time after she has taken care of business of her own. She is pretty. Long grey hair piled up on her head. We learn that Mr. Stanislawa was a career teaching professor. STC, the name he goes by, gifts us with a book of his oil paintings and black and white graphics. A good connection with like-minded souls. His left arm was removed when gangreen took over at a very young age. He says that everyone assumes he lost it in the second world war.






Next on this day's agenda, pick up our visas. David gets his, I am denied. This news makes me feel ill...and 'down'. What do we do? We have paid for a train and a hotel. Leave it for the time being. An idea will come.






A visit to Anthony and a gift of framed photos. A walk in Tazienkowski park which extends for miles through the city. It was the summer residence of the last King of Poland, the woods and trails being the hunting grounds. Small red squirrels scurry about the lush and shady paths. Sun sends rays on to the open meadows which are left with long natural grasses. I compare it's beauty to Vancouver's Stanley park.






June 6


The Russian embassy is within walking distance. Perhaps we can find out just why my visa was refused. We do not get passed the gate. A man finally comes out to speak to us. “What is the problem?” He is nice, diplomatic, and tells me that it is because I am Canadian and that I must apply from Canada! But he makes a phone call and I find out that the reason I have been denied is because my passport (that worked in every other country) is in bad shape (I agree, it is a bit mutilated!). He suggests that we go to the Canadian embassy and apply for a temporary passport. We grab a cab and soon stand at the front door. Embassy closed until Monday! Maybe we are not supposed to go to St. Petersburg.






BUT, we make the best of the day. It is raining heavily. A quick run to the nearest cafe and the next hour is lovely, first a beer and then a big bowl of soup...for David it is traditional white sausage soup and for me, borscht with dumplings. Oh dear, it is still raining hard...nothing to do but sit longer with an Americana coffee. When the weather turns a bit, we walk home. A fun and long walk, most of it in the park or on wide sidewalks next to it, on a busy thoroughfare. We pass the botanical gardens, the President's home, the art museum. A good poster exhibit on the fence! The rain is gone. I twirl my umbrella sideways to dry it as we continue on. At Anthony's studio we stop to tell him of our day. Oh, it is so nice to have a real friend in this big Polish city.






From where I sit in the van, we could be in the US or Canada. The golden arches cast their shadow, joggers, bike riders, walkers, park activity– it is very western in Warsaw. But our friends tell us the other side, maybe the part we cannot see. All is not well. The government has different opinions from the citizens. The government is still loaded with communists, probably under the power of Putin. Officials take money 'under the table'. The government does not stand or act for the good of the people. How can we see this as outsiders? The visual opposite tells us a different story. The amount of BMWs and Mercedes being driven. The styles of clothes. The high-end shops. New hotels. Everyone seems to own a car, even those on the apartment blocks we park in. All looks thriving and prosperous.






June 7


The poster exhibit on the fence has enticed us to follow up. We drive to Wilanowa for the show! Another curve thrown at us! Wrong day! The exhibition opens the day later. So, let's wander through the gorgeous gardens of the palace. All is not lost. As we wander we notice that the door to the poster museum is open. Let's investigate! Ah. There is a press conference going on today, not open to the public, but we are welcomed inside anyway, to wander in our own time, to enjoy each and every poster that is entered into an annual competition...awards and prizes to be given tonight. Poland is and has always been a leader in poster design. China and Japan are well represented and are also naturals at this skill. Other entries are from Norway, France, USA and Slovenia. The experience was great fun. This type of art is reduced to simple elements that tell the story immediately...getting an idea over to the viewer with the use of the most simple of visuals and words, sometimes resulting in a bit of a puzzle to solve! At least for me!






We meet Anthony and Grace back at the studio. They have invited us to lunch to their condominium in the suburbs. Spacious and very comfortable. The balcony is wonderful, like a large but private outside room. They use it as a breakfast room often. Grace cannot feed us enough! They spoil us! The table in the kitchen is moved to the living room and is beautifully appointed on a white lace table cloth over a plain white cotton one. We laugh and laugh, sometimes at the English language being tossed around, not always perfectly correct, but very fun! We trade questions and answers from both our cultures. Sweet people who are entering our hearts into a deep friendship.






June 8


It is Sunday. There is a music festival in Tazienkowski park, celebrating 25 years of Independence. The day is warm but the park is shady. Everyone in the city must be here. This park is the backyard for all those folks in apartments. The city has provided chairs. They are scattered all over the park. Stiff wood ones and relaxing fall-asleep deck chairs. Some families have brought blankets to sprawl on...spread food on.






Just as we started investigating all the venues, a Polish woman comes up to David and says, “Why you wear that hat?” (A wide brim gardener variety) “Where you from?” He answers... “America”. “Oh,” she says...and we read between the lines as she nods her head as if to say...'that figures!'






At different stations in the park, little stage places have been set up. On the pathway we stop to listen to a violin playing the sweetest strains of some traditional melody, all heart and yearning. Next we sit in a field to listen to a 5 man brass band playing mostly American music like 'Carry Me Home to Old Virginy', a West Side Story medley and House of the Rising Sun. After this we listen to a Polish author read his short stories. For awhile we were caught up in his imaginative delivery but we could not understand the language so we moved on.






Time for a break. A beer and a spinach-feta roll-up at a sidewalk table. So many people! It really is fun. We wander to the next entertainment offering and wait on seats like in an outside Roman coliseum where we look across water to the stage built within the ruins of an old castle. This is a dazzling and popular place to present concerts, especially in the evenings when it is lit as it is now. The Jazz concert starts at 9:15 and continues until 11:00. There is a guest trumpet player along with piano and keyboard, base and guitar and drums. Good stuff. Our favorite! The evening temperature is just right for shirt sleeves.






An added attraction, not provided by the entertainment committee, was the presence of a very attractive peacock. He wandered across the bridge, up the stage barriers to the stage where he visited the musicians, finally settling on the piano player as his favorite. He was carefully shooed away four times, but he would just come back through the stage wings or jump and fly from below stage front, to get back to the piano player, where he would stand and watch. Well, the audience enjoyed it even if he seemed a pest on stage. The fifth time he made it to the stage, the band was in full and loud swing. Peacock left on his own accord.






We walk home beneath big leafy trees, the path lit from a big shiny moon, periodic peacock calls pierce the magic from every direction!






June 9


$350 at the Canadian embassy to apply for a new passport and also a temporary one. New photos need taking, new size for different applications. Fill out five pages, all this before closure at noon. During this time of total misery and stress, I crumble. David takes care of me. He talks me out of the blues. Maybe this is a good time to do laundry. After a bit of research we discover that there are no laundromats in the city. No 'do-it-yourself' establishments. We learn that everyone has their own washing machines, even in the smallest apartments. We wonder if the Olczak family, our Servas friends, can help us. We spend the night back at Wilanow (Vilanova) at our summer home, just like the former Kings and Queens did. Our street is residential and quiet, next to a monestery. I sleep fitfully in the hot still air.






June 10


Back in Konstancin, we camp out in Michel and Joanna's front garden and fill their washer up twice. Sheets and shirts are drying in the sunshine. It is Tuesday, a busy weekday for the whole family. When Joanna comes home from her evening French class we drink up a few bottles of wine and have a rollicking discussion. Open minded Polish people. Wonderful! During this time one of the dogs, Blackie, has found a bag of potatoes and transports them, one at a time, to the kitchen. We are tempted to change his name to 'Small Potatoes'.






June 11


We are back at the Canadian Embassy early this morning. We walk in to the lobby and notice a picture of the Queen of England smiling at us. Under her portraint are the words...'Queen of Canada'. ??? What can I say.






Another hard day...good news and bad. The competent and friendly woman behind the desk have come through for me. I have a temporary passport...a pretty white one, with a harder tougher cover. It is valid for 60 days only...though inside is printed that it is valid for a year. After 60 days I am to turn it in for a new one...one that covers the remaining two years. Okay, that is the good news.






Off we go to the Agency that does most of the processing for Russian Visas. I eagerly show them my shiny new Canadian passport. “We need your paper work.” But, I say, you already have my paperwork. “No, the Russian embassy does.”Me...The embassy told me that you had all my paperwork and that I should come here. They call the Russian embassy and find that it is closed for three days, Wednesday, Thursday and Friday...and then two more over the weekend. “The earliest we can get you a visa is June 20th.” Me... On June 20th we leave Helsinke at 6:00 am on a fast train to St. Petersburg.






I really want to sit down on the bench and have a good cry. Throw things at her. Scream...What is wrong with you people? “Please sit and wait.” When next I am called, somehow everything is okay. I am positive they found my paperwork in their own files. Now I am told that the Russian visa might be ready on the 16th, more likely the 17th at 3:00 p.m. David quickly figures out the distance and miles and ferry schedules. Can we make it? If we drive 6 hours on the 17th...after 3:00, and 7 hours the next day we should be able to catch the ferry, from Estonia to Helsinke, the morning of the 19th we would be on time for locating the train station and a place to store the car.






Calm down! Again David takes things in hand. We leave after paying a second $150 for another visa and processing service! Are we nuts?






One more thing to do. The GPS. We need to go back to the Garmin outlet and demand that they replace the North American maps also. They agree...they admit to deleting all our maps. “Come back tomorrow at about 2 p.m.” We lock up the car and go for a walk to shake all the Russian flakiness out, first through University buildings that are neatly built flush to the curving roadway. Wall next to wall, no spaces between. A very pleasant form. Turning the corner we find ourselves in a neighborhood park, serving the apartment buildings in the area, which you cannot see for the trees. Children play in the fountain which rises and falls at surprising intervals and heights...the landing pitter-patter sometimes sounding like a melody, sometimes like a march. The smallest of the children approach with trepidation, jumping back when the water starts, much like a sandpiper at the ocean edge. But that does not last long, soon they are batting at the spurts or putting their feet over the floor spouts. Buckets, bags and balloons are all vessels to fill with water.






We walk the inside park perimeter and out to the main street through a gateway by the National Library. Five 10 foot high metal multi-colored horses stand in the parkway. Square bodies, stick-like legs, lovely modern heads and tails....and wings! The library was bombed to little pieces except for a facade which still stands...a place to start rebuilding. It amazes me how Europe has restored so many of its favorite and important places back to their former glory.






Across the street is the Hall of Justice, a modern contrast that fits well into its place. Many square columns with symbols of the balance of justice on each. Next to this, a remarkable memorial stands to honor all the civilians and soldiers who rose against German might and oppression. These Poles fought for weeks but could not hold against them. Their allies, the Red Army, were expected on the scene but never showed. Finally the Polish branch of the Red Army came to give support but it was too late. The memorial is very strong and mighty.






Across another street and through gorgeous doors we enter an ornate Catholic church where the organist is practising. Big bellowing and vibrating pipe sounds of fine religious music. And back to Daisy. We are back in Konstancin for the night. In the dark there is a knock on our door. It is Thomas and Ela, with the gift of a goodnight chat.






June 12


The day starts grey with spurts of sunshine. Daisy's nose is in the white blossoms of a mock oragne. Next to it the white feathery goatsbeard has bloomed in the last day. After all the hassels of visas, passports and GPS failure, I do not care to budge. I write in my blog diary, book number 9. The process always calms me. Then I rewrite from this book into my computer documents...preparing the next blog posting. I love to relive the past this way, to try to bring it alive for you.






David goes off to the Botanical Gardens, Polska Akademia Nauk Ogrod Botaniczny, which is a walk from here. He is gone a long time but says he only covered half the ground. While there he comes across a photo exhibit of the International Garden Photographer of the Year.






Szymon and Janek come to play outside in their pajamas. Szymon (Simon) can answer questions so he understands much. He laughs at the word 'grandfather' but he does know what it means. I ask about the seaside which they are heading to on Saturday for a whole month. Szymon looks at me blankly. He says, “Seaside is a toilet” and then demonstrates in case I did not understand him! “Plunk, plunk, plunk. You know.” Little Janek says, “Bye, bye. See you tomorrow.” Later we join Ela and Joanna on the porch. Tonight the talk is of pets, funny stories. It seems that upstairs in their house, the dog was chasing the cat. The supple cat took a short cut from upper floor to the stairs below. Smart doggie followed. Whoops, no stairs, as he falls through the air to the lower floor. No breakage.






The weather changes. I am hoping for rain on our sleep roof.






June 13


We are off to pick up our fully loaded GPS and see more of Poland. We leave Warsaw for the town of Izbica Kujawska, through a variety of flatland towns, countryside and farms, then the land becomes spectacular. Small rolling hills with crops at their peaks, full,healthy...bursting. We are looking for 4,000 year old buriel grounds. We find Ibica Kujawska, then about 7 km more toWietrzychowice. We must walk through the beautiful woods to find them, tall trees with long bare trunks...the kind of forest that affords a mysterious long view. My first sighting of a mound stopped me short. I have never seen this type before. There are five grave mounds, housing groups of people. Long rounded immense forms are covered with light green grass, kept short to accentuate the shape. An example of size...1,000 square meters in volume, over 100 meters in length and up to 3 meters in height. The essence of humanity comes forth, strength and caring. Breathtaking really. Light falling through tree banches, focusing on these shapes, seems etherial. These are the people called the Funnel Beaker (from the mound shapes) culture. The Egyptian Pyramids are 1,000 younger! Huge stones built these graves into trapezime shapes. It has been ascertained that these people cultivated plants and raised animals. They had developed their own religious beliefs which included an afterlife. Inside the mounds, people were placed according to their importance and were surrounded by clay spoons and dishes, bows and arrows, battle axes, adz and flint objects. Small animal bones are scattered. There are four known sites like this one but all have been destroyed. I do recall visiting a Beaker community on a wooded hill in Slovenia, but one had to use their imagination to see what might have been there.






We quietly take the path back through the woods and slowly drive off. White geese populate this part of the meandering Wisla River...which seems to flow everywhere we go.


















THOUGHTS and OBSERVATIONS:


> Church is most popular when it has an enemy...like war. People can find their traditions and community within the walls. When life goes well, no one goes to church...Churches must create an enemy to get the throngs back.


> Trash and dirt is picked up daily in Warsaw. They take this seriously. Very clean city.


> From posters...


“An eye for an eye and the world goes BLIND.” Mahatma Gandhi


“Look deep into nature, and then you will understand everything better.”


Albert Einstein


> Warsaw is Chopin's home city.


> Summer attire for the locals. Long skirts with slits up the side. Plain and pretty patterned loose pants, long and mid-length. Cool and comfy.


> Name of a funeral home; Exitus.


> The softest touch of the human hand shows in the garden or field.


> Fabric rose petals of many colors and white tissue hearts are thrown like rice at Polish weddings.


> In the middle of Warsaw there is a large rainbow art piece in support of the gay community. The opposition kept setting it on fire. Now it is made of inflamable material!


> Politicians have been caught red-handed dealing with bank accounts.


> If you use your cell phone here, you can be pretty sure that the data is collected and stored so the government can check on your where-abouts.


> In late June, we are told that Sweden has a Fertility Festival...it involves the raising of a very large phallic symbol. Well, we won't get there on time!






June 14


Torun. We have been guided here also...and glad we took the suggestion. Here is a town of much Gothic architecture...streets and streets of a variety of architecture lined up in orderly flush rows, bricked or painted Gothic, Dutch, baroque, art nuveau, neo classical. It is all here, including ten beautiful churches with unique and tasteful interiors. We snuck into one as a wedding was in process...a male voice chanting the mass. And outside in the streets a medieval festival is going on. Buskers in the streets; drums, guitar, flute, trumpet. Booths filled with wares of the medieval times; bows and arrows, shields, swords, sling shots, necklaces and religious souveniers. I bought grand nephew Lawren a sling shot. “But do you think he is old enough?” David says...”He's a boy isn't he? He's ready.”






We enjoyed this town. Great for the eyes and great for the camera.






Next I plug Plock into the GPS. We followed truly gorgeous countryside, alternating with forests. Oh dear...there is more than one Plock! We are well on our way to the wrong one. At 9:30 we arrive at our original destination, ready to snoop around in the morning. Fireworks tonight! What are they celebrating? David goes on the computer to find out what is happening here tomorrow and comes up with a second-hand market.






June 15


A sunny cold day in Plock (pronounced Pwosk). David heads to the hotel behind us and gets a map there, along with a good chat with the receptionist on local information. (A good travel tip here; if you cannot find the 'I' in town, go to a hotel. They are usually very helpful and keep brochures and maps behind the reception desk.) We wander the pretty town. Many of the buildings are under reconstruction with help from the EU organization. Churches are doing a good business this morning, little girls and boys dressed like brides and grooms hurry to confirmation ceremonies. Every holy door we pass emits a lovely chant of mass. We walk through the city and into a park high above the Wisla River, then back to Daisy. We make our way on slow small roads to Warsaw, through ash, red pine, birch and elderberry and at our lunch stop on the river red poppies and daisies, red and white like the colors of the Polish flag, surround us.






We arrive at Anthony and Grace's home at about 5:30. They have invited us to dinner. “Grace, are you sure you want to cook for us again?” She does. Salmon and asparagus pasta...really, you cannot beat that! An Italian custard dessert with a rose petal placed on top. Always the water in the pitcher on the table has mint and lemon in it. We toast little glasses of Anthony's plum cordial...sweet, thick, syrupy and delicious. He keeps our glasses full. Then.....more dessert! Grace has made chocolate cupcakes, each with perfect, pure sugar, pink roses on top. They are such fun to eat. I love sugar!






PINK! Grace (Guccino) loves pink. She says to wear it makes her feel fun and lively. Anthony (Zbyszek) has a dark pink sweater on, given to him by his wife of course! He does look good in it.... “lively and fun”.


We end our day back in Konstancin at the kitchen table with Joanna and Michel, enjoying tea and 'herbal liquor' until Joanna has to get back to grading school papers, due at 8:00 am. In a few days she will be finished teaching for the summer!






June 16


An email from the Russian visa agency. “We need your old valid passport.” BUT... It is on its way to Canada. They cannot have it! Now what? I am almost beyond caring. David and Michel spend hours trying to remedy the situation. Finally the office sends confirmation that they have received a copy of the original pass port. We email them...Can we pick the visa up today? At 4:30 in the late afternoon the answer comes...VISA IS READY. This calls for a farewell dinner. David and I make pasta and salad for the six of us. The next morning we are at the visa office at 9:30. With papers in hand we stop in at Anthony's studio to say goodbye and we are on our way.