Maine Coon
Fast service Zakopane – Kraków
46 degrees in the sun the thermometer read when leaving the hotel room. Together with our friends my wife and I handed in our room keys. Dragging our suitcases we started our 30 minute walk to the train station.
Zakopane station lacks nothing but offers nothing extra. The platforms are accessible from just about anywhere but tickets can only be bought from the main station building which has the classic station look.
When entering the main hall it becomes obvious that time has stood still at PKP, the national railway company of Poland. Nothing has changed much over the last 40 odd years in this station. We buy our tickets from a woman nearing her pension age, although very friendly she is slow and a queue builds up quickly. With 35 minutes to spare we were the proud owners of 4 first class train tickets on the fast service to Kraków.
As we made our way through the station we decided to stock-up on drinks and food for our 3 and a half hour journey. At the platform entrance there’s a small food stand where we wanted to buy a bag of traditional Polish donuts. A joy for every sweet tooth and one of the many good things a Polish baker has to offer. Searching in and around the food stand we find out there is no one to buy the donuts from. While wondering what’s going on an old lady with sweat on her forehead and a couple of front teeth missing, complains about our suitcases while making her way around them. With mixed feelings of delight we find out that she’s the owner of the food stand.
When she’s setup and sitting down we order, her frown quickly turned into a smile and we got what we came for. The heat was getting to everyone not excluding old and tired shop owners.
The train we’re taking is old and lacks not only air conditioning but also any form of insulation which 
means the sun is free to unleash it’s full potential on the metal roof. Of course there’s also a modern Intercity service between Zakopane and Kraków. However it leaves 2 hours after the fast service which means 2 hours less in Kraków, so the fast service is our compromise. Although it’s called the fast service it’s everything but that, the train rarely hits 90km/h and stops at about every station where it often has to decouple the engine so it can be driven to the other end of the train to be re-coupled on that side.
With still 20 minutes on the clock we walked to the train which was already waiting at the platform. I opened the door to the first class coach, a wall of heat greeted me. As the platform wasn’t any higher then 50cm we threw our suitcases in first before entering our selfs. We were free to pick one of the 6 person compartments. It didn’t really matter which one we would choose, they were all equally empty and hot. I wonder if I would be far off when saying the compartments were around 40 degrees Celsius. But however high the temperature, this train was going to be our home for the next 3 and a half hours. So with the Tatra mountains behind us we slowly pulled out of Zakopane station.
Now you might be fooled into thinking that I’m complaining about the discomfort of traveling with the before mentioned train service, however nothing could be further from the truth. I really love trains and traveling by them brings out the traveler in me. Seeing a country at a slower pace, the sights and 
sounds. A high speed train already looses that feeling, maybe even a very comfortable train with air conditioning as well. This train has all the ingredients to make you feel like an adventurer! Traveling shouldn’t be to easy, it has to fight back a little make you work for those kilometers or else all romance and satisfaction creep out and before you know it you’re reduced to a mere tourist a wondering sightseer with a guidebook to keep you safe. Not in this train!
The first 15 minutes we were all enjoying the views and with that saying goodbye to 3 really nice days in Zakopane. I concluded it was definitely worth visiting again but next time out of season. I would advice anyone considering to visit Zakopane in the months of July/August to or postpone or go earlier. The walking routes are beautiful but they definitely loose a lot of their charm when you have to cue up.
After that I spend an equal amount of time fighting with the curtain, trying to keep it closed and block out the sun while making it stop flying out of the window or wiping on of us in the face. Closing the window was certainly not one of the options.
After pretty much all was said and the donuts were eaten the heat really started to creep up on us. I tried to fall a sleep but couldn’t find the right position to do so. Soon we were all sitting on our backs while passing the bottles of water and lemonade which were already to warm to really refresh. 30 minutes travel time down, 3 hours more to go.
It was about half an hour later when I decided that I couldn’t sit in the compartment anymore and I escaped to the hallway. All windows were pulled down and the train rocked gently from side to side over a single track crawling through fields and patches of forest. The wagon was still pretty much deserted so the only thing that I heard was the sound of the train rolling over the track, sometimes the sound echoed back out of the forrest accompanied by cool forest air, then a moment later the same rhythmic sound seemed to loose it self in the open fields. I stuck my head out of the window to feel the wind in my face. Even with all the sounds and sensations surrounding me I found my self in the quiet and simple world of train travel. This almost mediative experience made me forget all about the intense warmth of the train. What I found in those moments was exactly what I always expected from a train journey 
without knowing it; An objective view of the country while being an integrate part of it, something logically impossible but emotionally true. When passing a house I wasn’t waving at a person lying in the garden, I was waving at the country side which at that moment waved back at me.
For the remaining 2 hours of the train journey I stood there with my head sticking out of the window.
Hours after arriving in Kraków, while I was already sitting in the apartment we had rented, a part of me was still on the fast service between Zakopane and Kraków, Rocking from side to side with the wind in my face.
It’s alive!
I’ve been keeping really busy over the last couple of weeks getting my new business website live and brainstorming about my new venture. Not everything is sorted yet but the website it out there!
Vacation to Poland – What does a wood chucker chuck
The first night at the mountain house was best described as dark. In a village of around 50 separate houses with a average distance of at least 100 meters between every house and no street lights, it gets very dark. I very literary couldn’t see my hand before my eyes in a room that lacked curtains. It was fine, it just took a little longer to get my pillow just right.
I woke around 8.30 from the morning sun shinning into my face, consequently it had given me a bursting headache and wasn’t planning to get up just yet. With the help of a little smoothness from my side I got my wife onto my side of the bed and me on hers and out of the sun. Eureka! More sleep! Ten minutes later I was lying in the sun again but fell asleep anyway.
About two hours later we set, showered and ready, down for breakfast. Some juice, home made bread baked the evening before and a cup of tea. Over breakfast we discussed our own plan for building a wooden house in Poland, our shared dream and a puzzle on how we can make in feasible.
After breakfast we went quickly upstairs to gather our stuff and be of to a small town about 10 kilometers down the mountain. When we opened our room we were surprised about the mess we found there. Kitty litter everywhere the toilet of our cat on its side and vomit in front of the bed. While inspecting all the mess my wife could grab the cat just in time from the bed and put her on the ground; she was just in the process of vomiting again. Yep our cat was really ill.
When we finally cleaned everything we discussed what to do next, stay at the house? Go back to Wroclaw? My wife decided to have a talk with her friend Ola, owner of the mountain house whom happened to also have a cattery. She said that it would be no problem, traveling cats get sick easier and when you want to take them to cat shows it’s better to just get used to it. In short no danger to the cats health so we decided to stick with the original plan and just go to the town for an hour.
When we walked to the car the boyfriend of Ola, Wojtek was chopping wood in the garden. Wojtek and I communicate by mixing Polish and English, with the emphasis on English as his English is still better then my Polish. When he sees us he shouts at me, “wanne try?” and holds his hammer axe in my direction. He stands in the sun surrounded by a serious amount of wood with his beautiful axe. He’s splicing whole wood stems between 30 and 50 centimeters long and about the same in width.
I’ve always been fascinate about the whole process of splicing wood. A heavy axe which you aim at a piece of wood, you swing, and then the sound of the split and two pieces of wood flying to both sides. And again. The cheer repetition of the activity seems soothing while still putting a lot of physical effort into it. In a way that makes wood splicing not unlike yoga. I bet this is the first time in history someone made that comparison.
Of course I couldn’t turn down his offer and I didn’t even want to. I gave the camera I was holding to my wife while taking of my jacket. As casual as I could I answered “sure!” to Wojtek’s invitation. I walked up to him and asked him to demonstrate the technique, he wasn’t very descriptive. He Grabbed one of the full stems, swung about 3 times and it was in two. He handed me the axe grabbed a full stem and added, “now you, in one time”. I laughed and took my first swing, I dug the axe tightly into the wood. Luckily I watched closely when he was doing it so I knew it took small jerks to get it out again. I swung the axe again and again while my wife was taking pictures. I could see I was hitting the wood with the right force but nothing was happening. I kept on swinging while my hands started to hurt. I wasn’t going to give up that easy, it had to split even if it would mean that I would have to nurture blisters for 3 days on my hands. A matter of silly masculine pride.
Finally I heard the sound of a crack coming from the wood, sweat was poring out of every pore in my body but the sound of the splitting wood gave me new energy. Two swings later a piece of 10 centimeter sprang loose from the 50 centimeter thick stem. Wojtek came to inspect my handiness and noted that my first 20 swings were very neatly in the middle of the stem and well aimed, but because I had a stem which had a branch growing out of it it would have never split in two at that point. I nodded and decided to give it again a couple of swings from a different angle. Although I got the wood to make the cracking sound again, nothing much happened. I decided to call it quits my hands were burning and felt exhausted.
I handed the axe back to Wojtek and noticed the gloves he was wearing and shouted out, “hey! but you have gloves!”, to which he replied, “yes, of course!” while smiling friendly.
My wife and I got into the car and as I let the steering wheel slide back trough my hands while turning of the property I thought to my self, “ouch”.
A couple of hours later we were sitting on our room enjoying the art of doing absolutely nothing. While I was dreaming of a big travel photography assignment with a bag of chips on my lap, my wife was practicing an odd combination of playing with the cat and reading at the same time. A single nock on the door and an invitation for kielbasa hot from the bbq by Wojtek made us switch into action again.
There was a mildly strong wind blowing from the north as I discovered from looking at the satellite dish hanging from the side of the building, on this side of the globe they always point to the south,
just a free city boy survival tip. Wojtek and I located a spot in the garden just behind some trees where the wind wouldn’t bother us to much when preparing the kielbasa.
Not much later the four of us were ready to start enjoying the meal, the hot sausages from the bbq combined with fresh veggies and a good Polish beer.
The dog from the neighbors some 100 meters downhill sniffed out good times and decided to pay us a visit. After offering the small dog the last piece of my kielbasa it became clear I made a friend for life. Even when I decided to take a walk after dinner over the mountain to shoot some pictures in and around the village he wouldn’t stray from my side. 
It was about 45 minutes later when I returned to the house, Ola and Wojtek were busy stacking the wood that was chopped that day. After petting the dog one last time I found my way back to the room. My wife and I reflected back on the day that past, again a good day in Poland and tomorrow the journey back to the city of Wroclaw.
Vacation to Poland – Mountain Road
Close to the Polish-Czech border on top of a mountain there lies the tiny village of Lasowka, our destination for the coming three days. We’re going to visit a couple we know, they own a wooden house with rooms they often rent out to people mainly during winter for skying, and in high summer for people that like to walk in the mountains. As it’s spring now and at this height the last snow is still melting we were going to be the only visitors.
After my first Polish lesson this vacation we started to pack and got ready to go. Again the weather was great, blue skies all round and 20 degrees. We both dressed light for the trip but were sure to pack a sweater for the off change we might have a cold day during our stay.
With the cat in her new vacation transporter, which is basically a crossover between a standard transporter and a tent big enough to fit two Main Coons, we were on our way. The cat was going completely berserk in the beginning as it was used to walk freely in the car. After a little while I asked my wife to give her some attention and to put her at ease. Much to our surprise this resulted in a pretty serious bite in her hand. As she was trying to stop the bleeding with napkins I could see on her face she was in a lot of pain. Not a good start of the trip to say the least.
For the most part I know the road to the Czech border as I drove it before. That time with my cousin and his girlfriend joining us on route to Budapest.
So with the GPS helping out we had no issues reaching the region of our destination. Pretty soon the GPS was telling us to leave the main road and go up a small two way mountain road just big enough to fit one car. Nothing to get to worried about you get used to them pretty fast they’re nothing out of the ordinary.
We drove higher and higher and were enjoying the pretty scenery surrounding us.
After about six kilometers the asphalt ended and we needed to turn right on a road made of rocks and dirt. A flash of doubt crept in but we were told that the village was remote and there was only a dirt road leading up to the house, so we pressed on.
Slowly and mostly with out my feet on the paddel I gently navigated the path, at first worried but then worries turned into excitement. Pretty soon I was amazed again by the sights, beautiful wooden houses traditional to the region and people going about there business in front of them. I did see some surprised and prying eyes but hey I’m pretty sure there are not a lot of Dutch cars with their obnoxious yellow license plates creeping over this here path.
Progress became slower as the road deteriorated, but the GPS told me we were about 1 kilometer away from our destination and the road was dry so not risk of getting stuck, we went on. About 2 minutes later I stopped the car and asked my wife for a translation of the text right underneath the big round sign with the red border, “Nature reserve access prohibited”. Right I guess my Garmin GPS isn’t the all knowing road guru I thought it would be.
I switched of the engine and got out of the car to relieve my self against one of the many tries while my wife made a phone call to the people that we were going to visit. The forest and the mountain were beautiful, the only thing that was to be heard was de gentle breeze playing with the fresh green growth of the trees.
When I got back to the car my wife already spoke with one of our hosts, “we need to turn back”, was the clear and not unexpected message from my wife. We turned the car on the narrow path and we drove of with the sound of the GPS throwing a fit about making a U turn. It wouldn’t be the last time we would hear that sentence coming from the GPS.
About an hour later we finally drove up the right side of the mountain on a beautiful and smooth road. As we were nearing the top we passed patches of snow beside the road, which inspired my wife to confess she only brought her slippers. Would it really still be a vacation without these little dents in the road?
So how did we get there in the end? The trick, it turned out, was following the signs. A bit obvious to my taste but we got there.
Vacation to Poland – The Wedding
Saturday is the traditional day for weddings in Poland. As such our Poland vacation was planned around the wedding of a friend of my wife today.
We got out of bed around 8.30 to start preparing for the wedding. My wife had an hairdressers appointment on the other side of town. We drove up there together, first we went for the flowers and then my wife went to the hairdresser and I spent some time in the old apartment of my parents in law which happens to be in the same building.
About an hour later she was done and we went to have the car washed. I don’t care much for cars and as such mine is washed about every six months, however you shouldn’t show up at a wedding with a dirty car so we told the guys it needed a spit shine. They really do great work, you bring the car and drive it into the appointed booth and they start their work. We went to the mall next to the car wash and about 30 minutes later we returned to our transformed car. Full hand work and that for 40 zloty (which is not even 10 euros).
After that we raced back to the other side of town, ate something and got our self into a ready state for the wedding.
We arrived about 15 minutes before the service at the church. The weather was really great 20 degrees and a clear blue sky. We started chatting to some people while waiting for it all to begin.
My thoughts went back to my own weddings about 9 months earlier, I could visualize my wife’s friend packed with nervous in anticipation for the service and the day to come. I hoped his experience will be as great as mine was.
Not much later we find our seats on one of the wooden benches in the church and we wait in anticipation for the young couple, as newly weds are called in Poland. The music starts and two nervous and smiling faces appear from the back of the church. My wife controls her tears and all uncles start pressing the shutter on their camera, the service has began.
The first 10 minutes I try to follow what’s being said, my Polish isn’t that good yet so it takes a lot of effort to understand. Pretty soon I start to look around and study the architecture of the church, beautiful windows, statues and the complementary gold that goes with it. No doubt about it this is a Catholic church, not really a discovery as more the 95% of Poland is Catholic. I start inspecting the guest, is everyone paying attention? Where is the photographer? I quickly spot him to alter right, but wait a moment, same hairdo as I have the way he looks at his display on the back of his DSLR. I know that guy! That’s the photographer we had such a good time with on our wedding! He doesn’t only have the same hairdo as I have but also the same name, he used to be an IT guy and to top it all of his wife is also called Marta. Scary!
It quickly becomes obvious to me that the army of photographing uncles are making his work difficult. Especially after the rice and coins are thrown and the gifts and flowers are given. Every time he finds a nice angle one of the uncles unknowingly jumps in front of his lens.
After all gifts are given we have some time for a short chat, my wife obviously gave her friend his phone number and that’s how he came to be at this wedding. As such my wife figures we deserve a free picture for our promotion and we get ready to pose. Really great to be with these people again.
After sometime guest start finding their way to their cars or to some other form of transportation to go to the hotel where the wedding party was being held. All guests have to be their before the newly weds so you have to take care to leave on time. It’s about a 15 minute drive from the church to the hotel and when we arrive there are already a lot guests waiting. However no young couple yet so we’re on time.
While standing at the entrance we were chatting a bit until the loud honking of a car interrupts the conversation, the decorated car speeded around the corner and stopped close to where we were standing. Of course the groom has to show his best side and runs to open the door for his bride. They walk through the cheering crowd and halt at the entrance, everyone gathered around as we all waited for the bread ceremony. The bread ceremony is when the parents of the bride offer the young couple salted bread and a glass of vodka. After you eat the bread you have to drink the small glass of vodka in one go and throw it over your shoulder. If the glass breaks it’s good luck for the marriage. I had no issue with drinking the vodka as salted bread is more like a kilo of salt held together by a crust which is in bread form.
For the newly weds everything went of without a hitch, they ate the bread, drank the vodka and the glasses broke. On that note the party was ready to start.
All guest gathered inside, time for a glass of champagne and a song. In general on Polish weddings the band is like the master of ceremony in charge of keeping the party going which means organizing weddings games to be played with guests and often involving the couple. It happens more and more that the band is replaced by a DJ but the roll remains the same. I really do admire those guys, they’ve made it an art to keep people entertained and get them to the dance floor when needed. They really do keep the party going in every way possible. This DJ was no different. At first we were a bit surprised about his appearance in his crocodile leather tux. But as we soon discovered it was all part of the subtle rock’n'roll theme he had going.
When everyone got hold of a glass filled with bubbles the DJ played the “Hundred years for the young pair” tune to get the guests to sing. I’ve heard the tune a couple of times so I sang in my best Polish as loud as I could. All guests quickly lubricated there vocal cords with the champagne. And we all set down to eat. At that time it was around 4 in the afternoon and as an traditional wedding lasts until midnight; when the bride throws her bouquet and the groom his tie, it promised to be a long party.
At the table my wife and I met Alex and his wife Ania. Clearly we were put placed with them deliberately. Alex a Romanian born Hungarian lives and works in Poland and is married to Ania whom is Polish.
I never met a guy with such talent for language. His English was perfect and his Polish as well, of course he spoke Romanian and Hungarian. But when he started dictating sentences in Dutch with a Flemish accent I was completely baffled. Not really what you expect to find on a Polish wedding a Romanian Hungarian that manages to produces Dutch sentences.
Maybe I should clarify a little why I keep calling him an Romanian born Hungarian. As a lot of people know Hungary used to be a lot bigger then it’s today. After the first world war the lost a whole load of territory, divided between the different surrounding nations, be it new or existing. Between the first and start and end of the second world war there were still more border shifts. In some cases that meant that inhabitant of whole regains were moved or swapped with others. This wasn’t only happening in and around Hungary, but for instance also in Poland where basically all Polish in habitants of the then Polish city of Lvov were moved to current day Wroclaw, which was previous to that the German city of Breslau. Of course previous, previous to that it was Polish territory. In short Alex was born in a part of Romania which previously belonged to Hungary, but he Hungarians living there back in those days stayed where they were and suddenly had a Romanian passport. Today for Alex this means that in Romania he’s not perceived by the Romanians as an actual Romanian, but on the other side when he’s in Hungry is also not perceived as an Hungarian. Which puts him and a lot of others with him in the awkward position of being denied an identity other then what they can give them selves.
Not long after dinner a couple of people picked up some movement in a dark corner of the room, sound of glass bottles rolling against each other was heart. A couple of people close to me were leaning close to each other and whispering. Suddenly to men walked by the tables, one was holding a basket and the other was taking frosted bottles out of the the basket and placing them on the table between the guests. It didn’t take long for them to reach our part of the table. Before I knew it I could read the red letters on the label through the frost. Yes, the vodka had arrived.
Glasses were being filled and everyone was getting ready to drink to the health of the young couple. All guests stood up and on their health the satisfying feeling of an ice cold class of vodka on route to stomach could be felt.
The party went on glass after glass was poured as the food kept coming. Interesting chats with Alex and Ania were only interrupted by dancing and the occasional game or other forms of entertainment the DJ was organizing. A couple of times the guest started shouting for the young couple to kiss and they could only be silenced by giving in to their demand.
Around 20 glasses of vodka later it was already twelve and bride was throwing her vail (as she had no bouquet) and the broom his tie. Not long after that we got ready to leave, we thanked the couple for everything and wished them the best. While my wife started our car and I was enjoying the tranquilizing serenity brought on by the vodka in the passenger seat, we realized we both quietly relived our on wedding a bit.
This very enjoyable day two in Poland could only be topped of by throwing rocks at the bedroom window of my parents in law in the middle of the night. Only when we arrived back we realized that in our hurry to be on time at the church ceremony we didn’t only forget to take our mobile phones but also the keys to the house.
While I was advising my wife on the velocity of the acquired stones to set window, it quickly dawned on us that more extreme measures were needed to wake them. I walked to the car and started honking the horn while my wife was throwing rocks. After waking just about every dog on the surrounding farms we still didn’t manage to wake up the parents. We decided to regroup and discuss tactics, the only thing I could think of was also flashing the high-beam of the car on the bedroom window while honking the horn and throwing rocks. Much to my surprise that combination worked and we could finally enter the house and get ready to go to bed.
Poland day 1 – Arrival
So early this morning at 5 the alarm clock woke us up, or more accurately woke my wife up. Just about 30min later she came to kick me out. I receive some leannensey as most of the time I do the full 11 hour drive. Anyway we were ready to start rushing; gently put the last things in our suitcases and throw the cat in the bag, I started to pack the car. About 40 minutes later we drove of through a deserted The Hague.
The drive to Wroclaw Poland has become routine after so many times. I fill up the tank and check the tires the day before so that we can drive close to half way through Germany without stopping. Just the way I like it. I would actually prefer not to stop at all in Germany as they have issues with payment machines along their major international route through the country, go figure.
Anyway we were doing fine and usually when I get to a quarter tank I start looking at the distance signs for gas stations. I drive by a sign, 2km to the next gas station after this station 35km to the next. At this point I’m well into my last quarter but 35km should be no issue what so ever. So I decide to take the next one.
What I didn’t count on was a combination of me not paying proper attention and a mess of trucks crowding the right lane, as a result I miss the gas station sign and the gas station it self I only see when I race by it. Oops, small problem, here we’re gas needle in the red and no clue what distance too the next gas station.
So I get the situation under control get the speedometer to a 100 and start wondering why the cat doesn’t pee gasoline. Anyway another 30km onwards and still no signs, at this point me and my wife are squeezing it and we decide to leave the high way and visit an unimpressive German town which would have a gas station. We locate the gas station in the end and fill up the car. No problem just a little sight seeing in Germany, the country we always put to shame just by driving through it.
I went to pay and try my card, not to my surprise their pin machine doesn’t work. Through experience I know it’s not enough to cary 3 different bank cards and a credit card so I always take enough cash for one full tank. In Poland we never have issues with paying by card so 50 euros is enough. Yep, I drive a small car which doesn’t use a lot of gas so I even get money back on that amount *end of green promotion*.
So about 5 hours later we pull up at the new house/company of my parents in law. A big sign now graces the entrance “Koszela Prawo Jazdy”, which means Koszela Driving School. The house looks good and people are still busy driving trucks and cars on the property. We drive our car past all the vehicles and park at the back where we’re welcomed by the boss, wearing no shirt and doing some work around the garden. We asked them to put some sausages on the bbq while we were still driving so after some unpacking we set down together and had some food and a chat. The sun was shinning, my Polish was being tested and we were happy to be back in Poland again.
Mr. Photoman
Mr. Photoman at Flickr
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