Warsaw days, cont'd

It's raining outside. This is predictable, yet a bit unfortunate because no one wants to walk long miles in the rain. So I'm thinking that perhaps I should come up with a more clever idea for my last full day in Warsaw.

I needn't have worried. The day runs away from me. A late breakfast at home...






... segues into a meeting and a second breakfast with my architect-designer extraordinaire, the wonderful Karolina, who reworked my apartment to be what it is today.





Karolina is one of those rare people whom you meet in a professional capacity but who morphs easily and completely into the category of very good friend (despite our age difference: I am older than her mother, though granted, her mother was young when her kids were born). The kind of friend where a multi-hour second breakfast meeting slips by quickly.






A lovely start to the day. Afterwards, I step outside in what is now mid afternoon. Were it a sunny day, we'd be nearing the hour of sunset.






I meander toward my home, passing several groups of young children.





This is not surprising. Excursions, I'm told, are very common for school kids. And, too, there is a candy making factory close to where I live. Many of the groups head straight for this land of sweets. (I have to think that in the U.S., teachers would not be in a hurry to take classes to places where the kids can spike a sugar high, but then, maybe these kids are capable of showing some restraint.)

Right next door, there is a place called the Labour Cafe...





...and I spy in their display case a sour cherry meringue cake (baked on the premises by cooks who honestly look like you'd want them for grandmothers). In Polish, it's called a beza -- there is no dough involved, just meringue, mascarpone and whipped cream and in this case, the wonderful Polish sour cherry. Talk about a sugar rush! Still, quite perfect for the Tamka (that's the name of my street) get together this evening.





I drop off the cake at home, but then head out again and now it is both dark and raining. And I'm just a few hours shy of the time my friends are to drop by for supper and photo sharing. Time to hop on the bus to speed things up a bit. I'm going to my favorite glass and ceramics store. Most of the stuff there is not special and not expensive, but if you have a need for a specific glass or dish - you'll find it there. I'm looking for a few tumblers that will serve as Scotch glasses, because lo! I found a Lagavulin scotch whisky at the supermarket yesterday and memories of the isle of Islay came flooding back! I didn't go to Islay this summer and I wont go next summer either, but the Scottish island is still sacred in my catalogue of solo travels and I bought the bottle, thinking it would be memorable to combine the social gathering with the introduction of Islay's most smokey peaty drink to my friends. So I look now for suitable glasses, which is tough, because in Poland, Islay whiskey is not uppermost in anyone's mind.

I'm not fussy. I find something that is beautiful and made in Poland and because this is Poland, the prices are as always fantastic to an American pocket book ($2 per exquisite glass).

I write all this because it's one of those moments when many memories collide. And they continue to collide as I rush to the bus stop with my purchase. I pass the lesser park and glance inside. I gathered chestnuts here as a little kid... Right now, it's wet, dark, quiet, and very beautiful...





... and now I am waiting for the bus at the very stop where I waited when I lived in this neighborhood and made my way daily to the university. (The bus numbers are the same! The demise of Communism upended many things in Warsaw, but it did not rename the older bus routes in the city.)

And when I look up, I see the old apartment building where I once lived. My deceased dad's girlfriend lives there now, but the place is dark tonight.





It's raining again. Well, I have to tough it out. I still need a trip to the green grocer for garlic and lemon and baby spinach. And a trip to the Italian deli for cheese. And the corner shop for paper towels. Am I finally a local, or what???

And now I am home. Right now, this apartment building feels more like home than any other place in Warsaw. Mine is the blue window. Blue from the Christmas lights...




When I came up with the supper idea, I knew I could not do a full dinner, what with little time at the forefront and even less time to clean up after, as tomorrow morning I must catch the bus to the airport. But it struck me that I could offer to build a supper around a take out from the newest place less than a block from my home here: a "shrimp house." Indeed, they call themselves the very first shrimp house in all of Poland and I don't think that's hyperbole.






Poland, of course, is not a place where you'll find shrimp. When I asked the very enthusiastic sales person where the shrimp come from, he said -- honestly, Amsterdam. But I'm thinking Vietnam before that. It's a long journey!

I order many portions of garlic shrimp and many more of curry shrimp. Add a large salad with veggies thrown in it, and you have yourself a fine supper.

My sister helps and by the time the doorbell rings, I am ready!





One guest comes with an additional salad made of beets, which makes my sister very happy as she is nearly a complete vegetarian...






(They discuss the ingredients...)






And now comes one of those beautiful times when all feels right with the world. Sharing a meal with friends does that to you.






And as always, there is a lot of light banter -- of the type where we voice our opinions on whether the English language offers words or even the concept of pre- travel angst. They almost can't believe that it does not, but I assure them that it is familiar to Swedes (resfeber) and Germans (reisefieber) but completely unknown to Americans.

But mainly we eat and laugh and toward the end of the night, look at photos from the honeymoon trip of our summer newlyweds.

I have a flight tomorrow, true, but these guys face their own early morning work and family obligations (indeed, my sister had to dash off to be fresh and ready to hop onto her next project bright and early). And so it's time to wrap it up. A time release group selfie!





I have a kitchen to clean up but not really, because my sister said a million times -- leave it alone, I'll do it tomorrow or the next day. I cleaned it anyway, but with her message in my head. Knowing that I did not have to do it,  made it pleasant and, well, kind of special.

Special: definitely life piled a lot into this week for some of us. That we came together anyway speaks to the power of our grand friendship. I love you, take care. Words that rang back to me in the hallway as they made their way out.

Tomorrow, I'll be in Paris.

Warsaw days, cont'd.

Typically, the time to reflect about life, as experienced through travel comes toward the end of my stay away from home, but this time it came early. Like, today, which technically is only my second day in Poland.

We had partied long and hard last night and I had stayed up later than late to write here, on Ocean and so this morning I let myself stay in bed for a long while, listening to the sounds of my old, very old apartment building. I'd been warned that I am close to a busy street and that traffic noise would be pronounced. It turned out to be a false worry. The bedroom faces a courtyard and a convent. I mean really!

The noises come from within the building and now that I know them and understand them (and perhaps because I am merely a visitor, passing through), they bother me not at all.

There is the dog on the ground floor. He barks incessantly when his owner is away. Perhaps I'd feel disturbed, but I also know that this is the lady who responded to our knocks on her window when the electrical system failed on the night we arrived. She was chatty, friendly and I thought at the time that she'd probably lived in this building forever and had quite the interesting stories to tell about her life here.

There is the guy just below me who appears to be deeply disappointed in his (adult) son (who lives with him). Sometimes that disappointment seeps through in the middle of the night. Sometimes it's held in check. Sometimes it seems to fill the whole building, as the old man tries to express his anguish and set things on a better path.

So I listen for them and I doze and I let myself feel the comfort of a mattress that is perfect (as opposed to the one at home which is old and lumpy) and I think -- this is not a bad way to wake up. And then I think: I wonder if Ed is asleep now? And the young families, how are they?

A late and small breakfast...






And then I head out for a sort of brunch I guess (because it's too late for breakfast and too early for lunch) at a nearby spot (8 minutes' walk, says google maps) called Rabarbar. It's a clever play on a word which translates to be rhubarb, but if you break it up some, then you see a "bar" in there, except it's really not a bar, nor a coffee shop (although it has both alcohol and coffee), it's an eatery. A new place. A small place. An unassuming place.





A lovely place.

I'm to meet my goodest friend there -- one who could not (at the very last minute) come to the dinner last night.

With her, I have an ongoing conversation that has gone on for decades. There is never enough time to feel satiated.

This morning (or is it noon already?) we eat a hearty meal -- shakshuka for me. (This is the second place in the span of two days that offers shakshuka -- oh, how Polish taste buds have changed in the last few years!)






(This intimate, informal dining spot just opened a few months ago. May it stay open for a long long time!)






There comes a time when we have to move on with the day.  And by the way, it's warmer than it was yesterday -- just enough to melt the snow and give us a perpetual drizzle that intensifies a little and then recedes. All day long: sprinkle, quiet. Sprinkle, quiet.


My sister is with me for the rest of the day and that is just wonderful. We can't walk far (remember -- there is that drizzle issue), but we do manage to put in a few hefty blocks...






And then we pause for an early dinner at Zorza -- an eatery that has been a favorite of ours for a number of years. For me, a salmon and beet salad and a pumpkin soup. Do you notice my drink? This is a new Polish classic: put fresh fruits (include citrus and then any other fruits) in a tall glass and pour hot water over it all. Add honey. Just a little, to taste. It's a tea without the tea and it's grand on a cold winter day.






(Did I say how tastes are evolving in Poland?)

A short walk this way and that way...






And then we hop on the beautiful Warsaw metro and head out to the big supermarket. I'm having an impromptu supper at my apartment tomorrow evening -- my last evening in Warsaw. Some of us have travel stories we want to share (not me! you can read all of mine on Ocean!). Let's do it over food! I shop for some small food items and then my sister and I head home, my home, my Warsaw home, where we sit down and talk some more, because really, this is why I am here -- to talk to all the people I love on this side of the ocean.

My sister leaves, I munch on chocolate covered gingerbread that she has left for me and I think about the day and, well, I cry. Just because there is so much here and yet, it is here and my life is there and this is the way it is.

Warsaw days

It is cloudy and cold, in the way that a Warsaw December day so often can present itself. All day the temperature hovers close to the freezing point. Maybe it goes up a degree, maybe even two, but I can't be sure. When I look out my bedroom window this morning, I see the telltale traces of snow on the ground. (Not on the sidewalks -- these are merely wet and slushy.)

It does look pretty! For all the cold weather we have had back home in Wisconsin, this will be my first glimpse of snow this season.





I go out to get some milk for my morning coffee. Should I stop at my go-to greengrocer? The choice product, the one on display outside the entrance, seems to be the ubiquitous Polish cabbage...






There were days when you could find very little else in the dead of winter. Not so now: the store has the citrus fruts, the tomatoes, mushrooms, root vegetables, and even grapes.

I return home and fix that usual breakfast, only without the berries that, thanks to Mexico and Chile, are on our shelves year round, but aren't so visible in the winter season here.





And then my sister and I set out for a very long walk, undeterred by the on again/off again snow shower.

The goal is not unknown to me and you -- Lazienki Park. But we take a different route, one that runs parallel to the river. I rarely walk this way: the commercial center is on the higher Warsaw plateau above us. But I'm curious how things look down here. I had picked up a copy of the book "Varsavia Coffee Spots" and it lists some tantalizing possibilities for a refreshing coffee or tea in this area.

Here's one: the Kawiarnia Fabryczna (a cafe named after its home street -- translated as Factory Street... No factories now, just a smattering of rather hip looking spots). (A time release selfie!!)





The tea is wonderful (and warming), the atmosphere recreates a sixties look. The book description says that it's a favorite of high school students from the nearby high school Batory. We are here during class time, so of course, there are no teenagers around, but still, I have to smile at the link of this new place to a very old Warsaw school. My father had attended it (though his studies were interrupted when the war broke out) and indeed, for one semester, my sister and I had gone here as well, right when we came back from our years in New York.

Here it is, the ever lovely Batory Lycee:






And now we are at the lower corner of the Lazienki Park. Oh, how beautiful the summer palace looks from this vantage point!






The loveliest of all lovely parks!






(Yes, you'll find the red squirrel here...)






And no matter what the weather, you'll always find a mother with a stroller...





It's really feeling nippy now and my sister catches the metro home while I linger, checking out this time another new eating spot -- a place called MOD. It started out as a doughnut place: American style doughnuts. Meaning with a hole. And none of this artificial coloring and such: all natural ingredients. In the mornings people come here too for the excellent coffee and in the afternoon -- for bowlfuls of Asian-French fusion food. Me, I admire the doughnuts!






I pick up a few to take over to my dinner hosts tonight.






Ah, dinner: it's a big deal for me, for us. A chance to be together again. There were some last minute changes, as life does not stand still and a family emergency had to shift things from one place to another, but in the end, most of us did gather and that's a good thing! It's been a while!

Our hosts are part of our econometrics group from university days. But both have this other passion: art. Their home is filled with samples of their work and it is all quite incredible. I'll just post two examples, because they bring back thoughts of home. Here's a painting (one of so many, so many art pieces!) done by the husband...





What? You haven't guessed who is featured in it? Let me bring you closer to it:






Yes, you got it! Apple, Peach, Java...

And here are some of the sculptures done by the wife. Yes, life size penguins! Snowdrop would be in awe!






I could give you countless photos of pockets of conversation...






But I really didn't keep my camera out very long. Just enough to commemorate an important event: as of yesterday, all of the women there (plus the two who could not be with us tonight) are grandmothers!






Dinner is delicious! Rosol (Polish chicken soup), salmon tartare, ribs, chicken, salads and too many desserts! All on a very short notice, as the dinner venue had to change last just last night. My friends are tremendous in the kitchen!






We stay a while, even as tomorrow is a work day for everyone.

Time to go. Just a quick demonstration of a dance...






Then lots of hugs and kisses and we head home.

Home. What's home? Mine is that Warsaw apartment, where tonight I FaceTime with Snowdrop and Skype with Ed. Home -- there and here. Defined by the space, but even more by where love grows and flourishes.

and now I am here

December is always an interesting time to be in Europe. On the downside, the weather is completely unpredictable and could very well be awful. The days are short. People watching is made difficult by the early twilight and the layers of protective clothing we all wear. So... bleak, right?

No. On the upside, apart from New Year's Eve which draws crowds to Europe's capitals, the neighborhoods of most cities take a breather now from the tourist onslaught. Prices fall, restaurants don't require ten week advance reservations. And each country has its own spectacular and idiosyncratic approach to the holidays and whatever it may be, you'll find it to be colorful, delicious and festive.

I think the upsides win and I have been crossing the ocean in December for a long, long time. Indeed, it used to be that my only visits to Poland would fall on December days.

If there are travel headaches sometimes associated with this sketchy period weather-wise, I experienced none of them on this trip. My flight to Detroit was pleasant and arrived early, the next one to Amsterdam was even more pleasant (no bumps, no rolls) and also arrived early, despite the fog and drizzle.

(A second breakfast at the Amsterdam airport, because if you have several hours to kill, inevitably you eat.)




And finally my flight to Warsaw: it was on time, yes, but even more important was the view out my window as we prepared to land.  I was in that dreamy state of tiredness that usually hits me toward the end of these multiple flights. I look outside -- the moon! Oh, what a moon! And then I remembered -- it's full, it's orange, it's beautiful! An extra large moon (though not really: it doesn't actually change size!). A December super-moon.





My sister is there at the airport and we head home. As we leave the subway stop, I turn toward the flower stall on this street..





I pick up flowers for the table.

And there again is the super-moon, shining brightly on us here, and on you back home, too!





My apartment building poses a small challenge: The electricity in the stairwell seems to be out and with it -- the keypad that allows us to plug in the entry code. No problem! My sister pounds on the window of a neighbor and she lets us in. When you live in a building with many people who are decades older than ancient you,there will typically be someone home somewhere.

My sister has a set of surprises for me -- Christmas lights throughout!






It's all so pretty! (Snowdrop would love it too...)

My sister fixes supper for the both of us...





And we talk. Now is the time to talk. Not too long. I am quickly wearing down. Besides, I have three whole days in Poland before me! Too little? I know... That's what happens when I have tugs from back home. I'm never anywhere else for more than a handful of days.

But I am here now. Let's take each of the next three days and fill them with the richness of being in Warsaw.

I'll leave you with Christmas lights, from my home here: