POLONAISE

POLONAISE
(A slow dance of Polish origin)

The smallest things can, and do,  influence my choice of travel or holiday destinations. Live cycle racing broadcasts on Belgian TV have led to new destinations and I once visited a city on the strength of a brief background shot in a detective film. Possibly due to our several Dutch friends with Polish origins Poland has always been on my list of places to visit but it somehow never made the number one spot - until this year!  A five week round tour through the eastern part of Germany and the south-west corner of Poland.   

As a prologue to a new season of columns/blogs here are a few impressions based on posts that appeared previously on Facebook:

A FENCE RAN THROUGH IT........

I grew up with there being two German nations, it was hard to imagine that it had ever been otherwise, now it is equally hard to believe that the country had ever been divided. However you don't have to look too hard to spot the differences and the imagination does the rest.
There is always a certain amount of randomness about our trips and our first stop turned out to be just on the western side of the now invisible borderline. Along with the progress of the national football team conversations frequently turned to the 'bad old days' which in turn led us to visit a windswept museum on a rainy day and a bike ride up the highest (and steepest) mountain in the region which was also the site of a former observation post...... 

TRABBI TOWN

The only reason we visited Zwickau was that, by chance, I noticed that one of my 'Kyrgyz connections' lived and worked there. I had never heard of the place and certainly had no idea of its historical significance for the German car industry and therefore for the automobile industry in general. A city where, among others, Ferdinand Porsche developed a whole string of famous cars Audi, Auto Union and Volkswagen. Less prestigious, maybe, it is also the birthplace of... the Trabant. The Trabant was a product of the German Democratic Republic, East Germany. It was made from plastic, looked like it had been designed by a seven year old and had an ignition key so large that I once asked a Trabant owner if he used it to wind the car up. Luckily he was more amused than offended! The actual power unit sounded like a lawn mower and each car came with its own personal cloud of pollution. After reunification many Trabants were abandoned as the population went in search of something better and in a different colour however this curious car has now achieved an almost cult status becoming something of a collectors item!
Zwickau now has a hi-tech, high status University and has regained some of its former importance.
The town centre has been renovated, several Art Nouveau buildings restored and even the old soviet-style buildings have been given a face-lift. But we didn't give Zwickau much of a chance, we had a brief but enjoyable visit, then we went on our way intending to return at the end of our trip. However, as so often happens, circumstances dictated otherwise.

 

Oh – and by the way, we didn't see one Trabant while we were there!

 

 

ON TOP OF OLD SNOWBALL

“You'll be climbing the Sniezka then? ” Marta mailed after I had mentioned that we were now in Karpach. I had no idea what the Sniezka was.
We had arrived that afternoon at Camp 66. It didn't look or sound very promising – an open field with no shelter from sun, wind or rain. However a covered terrace, a communal kitchen and dining room, a pleasant bar, a friendly greeting and an uninterrupted view of the mountains more than compensated for the lack of shadow. The campsite was new and fairly undiscovered, the trees will grow in time. The mountain at the centre of our daily panorama was, we discovered, the Sniezka. The highest peak in the Karkonosze (The Giant Mountains).
“Sounds like a good idea” I replied ”we'll do that, either on foot or on the mountain bike”.

The next morning we realised that Karpach was one great tourist trap. On our bikes we weaved our way through the multicoloured masses, tourist trains, car parks, hot dog and souvenir stands. There was a road shown on the map that led some way up the mountain but it was closed to traffic...it was unclear if mountain bikes were allowed but we'd had enough. It was too crowded, this was not for us! We sprinted back to our tent, had lunch and cycled off in the opposite direction.
Ah, but the Sniezka was still there when we got back, in full view.
“ How can we face Marta now if we haven't climbed it “ Yvonne said. We would be visiting Marta in a few days. “Maybe there is another, less crowded, route” she suggested. We consulted the map, it looked like there was. It involved a short drive and a longer hike taking in two smaller peaks on the way.

The following day it was raining, with nothing better to do we drove up to check out our chosen route, maybe take a short walk or just drink a coffee somewhere. We found the path easily, it was well marked and not too busy. The rain stopped and before we knew we'd already covered about a quarter of the route. “Ah- well, might as well carry on to the top then” we both thought. It was, we soon realised, the easiest part of the walk! Half way there was a mountain refuge we paused for goulash and coffee. The hut was Czech and so were all the other customers. We had crossed the border about 50 meters from our Polish car park. Luckily they accepted Polish currency.
It was a tough three hour walk up. As we approached the very top we encountered more and more people as various routes converged, many had taken the ski-lift, only walking the last 500m, some, judging by their gear had chosen more challenging routes.
On the way back we revisited the mountain hut before tackling the last stage with legs that were now beginning to protest. “You've trained us for cycling not for walking up and down mountains!” they screamed. However we reached the end, tired, aching a little but pleased and satisfied, and just as it started to rain again!

Later that evening,sitting in the one chair at the campsite where there was a good and constant wifi signal I discovered that not only had we climbed the highest mountain in this region of Poland (The Sniezka) but at the same time my very first steps ever in the Czech Republic involved climbing the highest mountain in that country (The Snezka), and I didn't even know I was doing it!


MARTA'S BACKYARD
They were not the main reason we decided to visit Poland this year, though they did provide an extra impulse. We met them last year in something resembling a café at the side of a dusty track in Bosnia. They were, however, the reason we visited Wroclaw.
“We're easy to find. We live in the zoo. You can't miss it “ were the somewhat surprising instructions.....and we didn't. Despite a few tram related adventures and diversions we eventually arrived at the service entrance as directed. There we were met by Marta, Mickey and their baby who was only 'work in progress' at our first meeting.
We were treated to a tour of the zoo.
They knew many of the animals personally, their names, origins and their background stories. For those who are uneasy about animals being kept in captivity, and I'm one of them, it was nice to know that many of the animals had been rescued from situations where they had been cruelly treated and were now able to spend their last days safely and in relative comfort. Generally the animals were provided with spacious and attractive environments many new or vastly improved over the last years.

Later Mickey took us into town to show us that there were also human beings living in the city....and for a beer!
In the evening we visited a multi media light show in the park across from the zoo before returning after hours and after dark to have one last conversation with two insomniac zebras and Zidane, the head – butting donkey.

 
We spent the weekend in Wroclaw and it was, indeed, full of people, most of them seemed to be under forty, except for the German tourists. This busy, bustling and very attractive city, is also inhabited by a large number of bronze gnomes, small and fairly inconspicuous. Subtly placed, they are amusing and entertaining rather than kitsch and they all look like a friend of mine!

 

THE BEST OF BAD DAYS:

 

To say that the weather in Poland is changeable is something of an understatement.... last weekend above thirty degrees... yesterday 14!
The forecast was heavy rain in the morning and light rain in the afternoon, fairly accurate except that the light rain turned into a storm! So what to do?... Well, much the same as other holiday makers - put on raincoats and head for the nearest town. The lady at the tourist information was friendly and enthousiastic, she made several suggestions but as a parting shot she mentioned a special place for coffee. Just around the corner, under a bridge, up some stairs, above an ice cream parlour. It was, as it happens, time for a coffee! Wow! The enthusiastic owner served us coffee with a selection of the best ice cream creations I have ever tasted - and I am not particularly fond of ice cream- each was an exotic delight and a surprise and the coffee was even better. Somehow a guitar appeared and I was persuaded to play.... for an hour or two the owner and I told stories, sang songs and entertained the other customers. ... and we were treated to a few more unique coffees. Back at the campsite the bad weather, as usual, resulted in good contact. Most campsites in the former communist countries have some sort of sheltered cooking facilites. On rainy days in these communial kitchens  new fellowships are formed. Now it seemed that some of our Polish fellow campers were able to speak a little English and several of them had family living or working in The Netherlands. A pleasant evening followed together with our Dutch neighbours and to complete the day I, at last, managed to work out how to transfer photos from my new camera to the tablet.

 

POLONAISE

 

It took us just over a year and a half to arrange our last get-together with Annabel, Hubert and David who live in Eindhoven, just 60 kilometres down the road from us. It took,  a few minutes, a couple of SMS texts and an E-mail to arrange a meeting in Bolkow, Poland!
But before that we stayed at two of the nicest campsites situated in beautiful mountainous surroundings. The weather remained, to say the least, changeable. We visited just about every small town in the area between sunny spells and took bike rides between showers. We took another short detour through the Czech Republic. We ate ice cream, sang songs, drank exotic coffee and in a mountain hut in the Owl Mountains two old ladies served us thick slices of bread and dripping accompanied by the largest gherkins you will ever see. (Do any of my English friends remember bread & dripping?). We tasted a variety of pierogies, sampled several local beers and tested a few vodkas. 

The campsite in Bolkow was bigger and busier than we had been led to believe and full of Dutch families. I should be used to it by now but it's only when I come across Dutch people in other countries that I realise just how LOUD they are.
A train used to run through the town, as in so many places the line was closed years ago, however although the train rails have long started disappearing into the undergrowth the traffic signs warning of its existence all seemed to be brand new!  Further there was a castle, a supermarket and a restaurant... oh and an ironmongers that luckily had a few bicycle wheels.  Despite the fact that I was sick, my bike was broken and I was bitten by a tick we had a good time!

It was time for us to leave Poland. While we moved slowly westwards via Thuringen Wald in former East Germany Annabel, Hubert and David headed further east trying to find their roots and avoid the Pope who, they learned just at the moment of departure, was visiting Warschau, their next planned stop. Warschau was expecting seven million extra visitors for the occassion! We left them disscussing plan-B. 

 

THE LAST DANCE

The last week of our trip/vacation  we were in the Thuringen Wald, at the end of a valley, not only without mobile internet but not even a telephone network. No TV, newspaper, radio and a guesthouse/ restaurant that had been closed for several years even though the tables were still laid! Together with just a handful of other campers on a beautiful but remote former DDR campsite.
It was time to go home.... but I wasn't at all sure why.  It is true that after being away from home for more than a few weeks I never want to go home but this time it was different: not much work and no plans.  If I have to hang around doing nothing I might just as well hang around here... and it might just of happened!
Our departure was delayed for a couple of hours... we couldn't find anybody to pay!
There was a telephone number pinned to the door of the reception but as we didn't have a network that didn't help much. Eventually we borrowed a telephone that did have a connection but, it turned out later, the managers telephone wasn't working AND when we did track her down she wasn't in the next town as we thought, no she had been in a neighbouring house the whole time! It was all annoying, irritating, amusing and refreshing at the same time.... although we did grumble a bit and maybe swore a little the fact was that in this tiny German backwater, rules, regulations and time were not priorities and, to be honest, like the people who lived there, we were in no real hurry.