I got bemused looks when I told people I was going to Poland.
“No, on holiday.”
“Oh.” (Bemused look).
See what I mean?
But the unease I felt at this reaction evaporated on arrival. I loved Poland. OK, so the weather helped; warm, spring sun and clear, blue skies that lit up what might otherwise have been gloomy, vast forests.
Wood anenomes helped brighten them up as well.
There were also buildings on a frankly ridiculous and huge scale: in Malbork
Wildlife seemed less shy than I’m used to. White storks were in every village; on almost every farm.
encouraged to nest on artificial nesting platforms; traditionally old wagon wheels.
Swallows were bolder than at the Priory,
and I was able to get
I struggled to identify these handsome (if shameless) insects – fire beetles perhaps? (Many thanks to Amelia at A French Garden who has identified these as firebugs, Pyrrhocoris apterus).
Travelling with my brother, I stayed for a couple of nights south of Gdansk and
east of the Vistula; near the town of Kwidzyn. Being an eager and voracious eater of gherkins, I had come across the name before.
where I ate the best haunch of venison imaginable. But, sadly not a whole one. My starter of smoked goose with a wild strawberry dressing had my brother snoring into his soup, as I droned on and on about how perfect it was. (Despite an expectation of indeterminate brown stews, dumplings and no vegetables, our food in Poland was excellent).
gluttony gastronomy and a continuing scientific (and very rigorous) investigation into Polish vodkas. (Curiously, I can’t quite recall the results). After that it was time to bid Poland, “pożegnanie” and board our train to Berlin.
Might just send you a postcard from there too.