Still in Zawady, this is where I lay my head on an evening, before waking to that lovely view. I had a post almost in readiness for today, when Paula whispered ‘glow’. Her wish is my command- if I’m able. Go and worship the sun over at her place. It’s beautiful.
P.S. Grateful thanks to Lunapic– an old pal.
In total contrast to my last, extremely urban walk in the city of Łódź, I’m taking you out into the Polish countryside today. I’m going right back to where my Polish story began, in the village of Zawady, around 60kms south of the big city. It’s a different world! Dad was born in this village, more than 88 years ago.
As you can imagine, changes have taken place, but not too many. The original farmstead is still there, but much of the land has been divided up between the family. The photo above is the view I woke up to from my bedroom, on my first day back in the village. Early morning mist burnt off to a beautiful day, and it was time to feed the week old ducklings.
I had been staying in the suburbs of Kraków, so the difference was considerable. The daughter of a farmer, with memories of driving the tractor with her Dad, Zygmunt, when she was young, my cousin Jadwiga loves her garden. But growing vegetables and keeping hens has to come second to her day job, and more especially to her dearly loved grandchildren. They are seldom far away, as daughter Ania lives in a self build bungalow within the grounds. Meet Kinga and Nadia, with mum, Ania, and Babcia, Jadzia.
For those of you who might have wondered, ‘what is Poland like?’ let’s slide the gate open, and we’ll step outside and see. Poland is a big country and land is cheap. It’s not uncommon to see ‘land for sale’ signs in the woods that surround most villages.
The houses vary considerably, some still old farmhouses, others in a far more modern style. I peep over the fence at the pond which once belonged to Aunt Lusia. Now her daughter Graźyna and husband Marek have built a home there, among the cherry trees.
You don’t have to walk far before you’re at the end of the village, and the woods beyond. I retrace my steps, on the other side of the road this time, passing by cousin Marysia’s beautifully modern home, and a sign that cautions of the ‘good’ dog that bites!
A crossroads points to Ławy, 1.3kms away, and I am tempted to follow it out into open countryside. But first I need to complete the circuit, back to the main road through the village. These decorated crosses are found on many corners, scattered throughout Poland. Number 16F is Ania and Hubert’s house, and the garden design business she runs from home.
As the sun droops in the sky and the children play out on their bikes, I cast one more look at the cherries, and then head off down the lane.
Don’t worry! I do return, but I wanted to show you the ‘whole’ of Zawady. It’s not very big! I hope you enjoyed meeting the place, and my family.
I’ve decided to link this post to My personal A-Z of Poland, which has been sadly neglected in recent times. Much of what appears there is relevant and will provide good background, for anyone who’s interested. Time to put the kettle on now, for this week’s shares.
Many thanks to all of you who make Mondays a bit special for me. Your support and encouragement sees me through the week. If you have a walk to share and you haven’t joined me yet… well, what’s stopping you? Details are on my Jo’s Monday walk page. Just click on the logo above. You’ll be made more than welcome.
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Let’s start the ball rolling with Laura, in Costa Brava’s wild spaces this week :
Pauline treats us to a glimpse of an Eye, through floral abundance :
A Walk through sunny Southbank, Brisbane
Hop off your bike and take a walk in equally sunny California!
My weekly ramble- John Nicholas Trail
Yvette has her own unique and stylish way of doing things :
Jubilant Walk with Jo (Nature Day 1)
And you know that Drake does too! Welcome to Kayserberg :
Geoff spent his April engrossed in a challenge. King’s Cross? Well, he might be!
X is for Crosses#atozchallenge
I don’t often think of hill climbing and Jude in the same sentence, but… she did it!
Thanks a lot for your company, and for your friendship. I know that this was a very low key walk, but I wanted to share a little more than just a pair of boots. In the coming weeks I hope to give you a flavour of Poland, seen through my eyes. Take good care, and enjoy your walking!
I almost forgot my good friends over at Monday Escapes. Maybe something for the Bank Holiday weekend?
Last Saturday you accompanied me to a rather wonderful cake shop in Kraków. Just so you don’t think that I spent the entire two weeks eating cake, I think you should come with me on a little stroll to the park.
It’s a very busy household I was staying in. Work in the bakery starts in the early hours and often Łukasz leaves home before 5. Ula combines study with learning the trade, sometimes in the cake shop till 10 at night. Their father, Adam, is at the helm of the bakery and machine manufacturing business all day long. Which leaves wife Marta at home, feeding and nurturing, whilst oldest daughter Weronika looks after eleven month old Bartek. So what was I to do?
Find a bench in the Park and watch the world at play. All was peaceful when I first arrived, but soon excited voices broke into my reverie. A posse of pre-schoolers were being coraled in the playground. Peace was gone, but a smile lit my face.
Paula makes Thursday special every week, and you know that’s still true on a Saturday.
Hope you have a great weekend. Why not share your six words with Cate, and I’ll be back on Monday with a Polish walk for you.
I came home from Poland to a few days of lovely weather, which even saw me having breakfast in the garden one morning. The clouds are back now but I just made it to the cliff tops at Seaham in time to catch a few wild orchids to add to Jude’s collection of Wildflowers.
In case any of you missed this! I couldn’t let you, could I? Many thanks for your friendship, lovely lady. Smiles and hugs coming your way 🙂 🙂
restlessjo has been a blogging friend for more than a year. She lives in England, I in Australia, but we both have Polish connections and here we are meeting in Łódź, a fact that has us hugging frequently in disbelief. What a day of talk and photography, as we stroll along Piotrkowska, delighted with each other, Łódź and the ease of speaking English.
A bit of Łódź background. It was one of the biggest European textile centres in the nineteenth century. Its city icon is a boat, which is what “łódź” (pronounced woodge) means in Polish: it appears on man hole covers, the base of lampposts, garbage tins, and trams, as the mermaid does in Warsaw. I wonder at the boat, when there is no sign of a river in my limited explorations. I discover that once upon a time, according to “Łódź in your pocket”, there were eighteen rivers…
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If ever you need a sweet-natured soul to have a stroll with- or better still, a hug or five and a hoot of laughter- I have a peerless recommendation for you. I’m a little hesitant in writing this post because I’m not sure that I can do the lady full justice. If you saw Meg’s post, ul Piotrkowska with Jo, you’ll know that she has already done my job for me. And that is very typical of Meg. Swift to offer the hand of friendship, she turned my day in the city of Łódź into something quite extraordinary.
First, let me give you a little background. The key to Meg’s being in Poland is her wnuki, her grandchildren.( pronounced f-nooki, it’s another of those tricky Polish words) How many people do you know who would leave their beloved home (think ‘good for the soul’ quiet beaches, and Australian flora and fauna, all photographed by Meg in exquisite detail) to take up residence in Poland’s capital city, Warsaw, for a year? To be near those children. Speaking almost no Polish, and reduced, like myself, to a perplexed frown as conversations roll past her, Meg then agrees to meet with an English lady in an unknown city. To make it easier for that lady, she books 3 nights in the city, alone, almost immediately after a family trip to the Polish lakes.
And now for my part. I know all too well the frustrations of a lack of ability to communicate. Occasionally I have thought that ‘signing’ would be a better method than trying to speak the Polish language. I get by well on hugs and smiles within the family but that doesn’t go down so well with strangers. Understandably the family are not keen to let this nodding, smiling person go wandering in a big city, where few of them are keen to venture themselves. How can they know that it is in my nature to wander? That I thrive on it. I have even done a little research and know how to get to Łódź. And beyond that, I will have Meg!
It is with reluctance but great patience that Andrzej accompanies me to the bus stop, and we wait and wait. When I am almost convinced that it will not arrive, despite his phone call to the bus company and being told ‘Będzie’- ‘it will come’, a small white minibus hoves into view. Can you imagine the bubble of excitement inside me as the lush green of Springtime Poland slides past my window?
Enough! The audience awaits. I step off the bus almost into her arms and we make it to a corner cafe for much needed kawa (coffee, of course). And there I discover just how delightful a companion I am to have for my day of freedom. The cafe is situated on a corner of Poland’s longest street, Ulica Piotrkowska. With unfailing lack of sense of direction I point to the ‘top end’ of the street and suggest that we head that way. Meg smiles, and points the other way. Armed with a map from the TI and directions on how to find the bus stop from which I must later leave the city, cameras in hand and huge grins on our faces, we begin to walk.
As Meg has pointed out in her beautiful post, the architecture in Łódź is ravishing. There really is something for everyone, whether you favor shabby or chique. My tendency is always to beauty and elegance, but I can sometimes be won over by the forlorn and unloved. We are each other’s eyes, and at times it’s hard to concentrate, as smiles and snippets of conversation bob back and forth. I have never taken photographs in tandem like this, and it is a remarkable experience. Sometimes I pause to see what Meg has focused on, and later I realise that she was doing the same with me. How very wonderful to find someone who understands the joy of just being there.
Part of the reassurance I tried to give my Polish family was that I would not be straying far from Ulica Piotrkowska, and there truly was little need to. Our first landmark is Plac Wolnosci, where I dance in delight at the passing trams. Meg finds this funny. There is every kind of transport along this street, but trams always bring a smile to my lips.
Looking up, past a rusty old gate, cavorting weasels (or maybe rats?) catch my eye, but I have my sights on Palac Poznanskiego, Museum of the History of Łódź. Time is precious and the weather superb so, having found our target, we agree to bypass it in favour of a leafy green space. Meg takes huge pleasure in the soft shadows and gently waving trees. My best efforts for Jude are rather pathetic, and I start to giggle.
We are at the very top of Piotrkowska, and turn to head back. On a corner of Plac Wolnosci, the church of Zesłania Ducha Świętego is bathed in bright sunlight. The door is ajar, and we enter quietly. There are only a couple of people knelt in silent worship and I manage a few shots, trying hard not to be intrusive. ‘Are you any good at mosaics?’ asks Meg. I shrug and try.
Time to decide where to eat. There are plenty of choices and we are agreed that an outdoor table will do nicely. Ordering from the board outside our restaurant, I manage to confuse the waitress. Or does she confuse me? Soup, and then nalesniki (pancakes) with spinach, appear in rapid succession. I decide to ask again for some wine, and am greatly relieved when it arrives.
Many confidences were exchanged before we continued along this engaging street. Rubinstein with his piano vied for our attention with local born poet, Julian Tuwim. Whimsy there was aplenty, and some quite enchanting sculptures of children.
Nifty little archways and passages lead off Piotrkowska, some of them quite irresistible. Most lead to restaurants and quiet courtyards, but the art gallery and cafe Surindustrialle was one of our best finds. Metal art from industrial waste. Take a look at the website and you’ll see what I mean.
I have so many more photos that I could show you, but perhaps you are getting weary. Meg showcases many of them brilliantly so, if you haven’t already paid a visit, I hope that you will do so. One good thing about this walk- it’s almost impossible to get lost. But reaching the end of Ulica Piotrkowska is another matter altogether. I don’t know if we got even halfway along its 4.9km.
All too soon it was time to look for the bus stop that would take me back to the family. A landmark for Meg in finding her way around the city, the main tram station was chiefly a source of happiness for me. I had glimpsed it, with curiosity, from my bus window on the way into Łódź. Just look!
A block further south and our grand street was starting to look a little more humble. A colossal renovation project, it’s hard to know when it will be finished. But our time together was almost at an end. The bus stop was found too quickly and we looked for somewhere to conclude our meeting. Not a cafe in sight, we subsided onto the bench and continued to talk. There was so much to ask… so much to say! But 45 minutes later the bus revved its engine and I reluctantly got on board. One last hug and a wave and Meg was gone. I was both exhilarated and bereft!
I realise that this walk is of a far more personal nature than usual, but I wanted it to be a tribute to a very special lady. I do hope you enjoyed your walk with ‘us’, and I very much hope that she and I will meet again someday.
Should you be tempted by what you’ve seen, you will find the Tourist Information website in Łódź a valuable source of information.
Thank you for your patience everybody. Often I visited your blogs whilst sitting on the sofa, as Dad and my cousins watched TV, but my Smartphone has its limits (or the truthful version- I do!) ‘Normal service’ should be resumed now. Welcome to my walks! Join in if you like. The details are on my Jo’s Monday walk page. Just click on the logo above. Time for a cuppa, isn’t it?
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It always tickles me how many of our place names are the same- Monteith St. for example. Thanks, Anabel!
There’s no getting away from it- Susan is a lady after my own heart :
Yvette always supplies interesting people to compliment her doors (and walks) :
I’m inclined to forget that Becky has an English blog. Come along with me and learn all about ‘navigations’ :
A lovely English stroll for a Monday
I have done this walk to the Algarve’s Fonte da Mesquita but, unlike Becky, I didn’t see the orchids. Sad face! :
A happy case of ‘orchidelirium’ on our walk to the spring!
Sue has a warm heart and is a great espouser of good causes, but she likes a bit of fun too!
Nothing I like better than a watery walk! Geoff chucks in a chateau or two and I’m happy :
And some London buildings, including lovely St. Bride’s :
H is for Hawksmoor and his boss….
Drake takes us ‘home’ to beautiful Samsø in Denmark :
We’re biking again in California, but you can get off to check out the neighbourhood :
My weekly ramble- From my front door
A hint of mystery next and a great yarn, told in Tish’s best raconteur mode :
The Tale of a Hidden House that once hid a King
And while we’re storytelling, I was delighted to have the ‘other’ Sue for company this week :
Of castles, a dancer, dragon’s teeth and tunnels…
Denzil has found us some green and pleasant land that isn’t England :
And Gilly, England at its finest :
Lanhydrock, a National Trust Stroll
That’s it for another week! Many thanks to all of you for your support and for walking with me. I hope that this week brings you much pleasure.
“Unfortunately, I speak only a little Polish” but the language of cake is universal. Staying in the home of a baker could be ruination for the figure, so it’s probably as well I came home when I did. Chmurka malinowa (raspberries and meringue) was my undoing. Sadly, after 2 weeks in Poland I was just starting to get my head around the language and have the confidence to try to speak it.
The photos above are from my cousin Adam’s newest shop, and Dad is there with the family, waiting to sample ciastko- cake. Something which he is extremely good at. Must be a family trait! The last is taken through the shop window. My lovely niece Ula has just finished work for the day.
One of my weeks was spent with family in Central Poland, where feeding one week old ducklings- kaczki– was part of the entertainment. I was also lucky enough to meet up with Meg in the city of Łódź. Such joy that gave me. I’ll be taking her along on my Monday walk next week. Come with us, but don’t expect to get a word in, will you?
Meanwhile, have a great weekend! Pop in on Cate if you have six words you want to share.
In a week or so of very mixed weather, we drove north from the Algarve in radiant sunshine. I was certain that luck would desert us as we crossed the border into the Alentejo. For a little while hazy clouds veiled the sun, but then Mertola was displayed in all her glory.
If ever you want to step back into Portugal’s Moorish past, this is a fine place to do it. I don’t intend to do a lot of talking, partly because I don’t have the time, but also because these cobbled streets cast their own magic. All you really need to do is follow.
Your first sight of the town, as you cross the bridge over Ribeira de Oeiras, is the castelo perched high above you. It’s enough to whet your appetite. There is parking on Estrada de Circunvalacao and from there Alves Redol leads quietly upwards, until you reach the viewing point in the photo above. Below, tables are laid at a riverside restaurant and the Guadiana squirms away into the distance.
On Largo Vasco da Gama, the blue and white of ‘Casa Guadiana’ is tucked into a corner where you melt in summer. Needing to stretch our legs first, we pass by the tiny Mercado and the Tourist Information centre. (where you can acquire a town map) A remarkable walled street invites you to follow it’s contours. Could you decline?
The doors, balconies and mysterious chimneys captivate. Each one a story in itself. I stop to watch a lady shaking and pegging out a tablecloth. And then there’s the beautiful clock tower, Torre do Relogio. Alluring, isn’t it?
Rua Combatentes da Grande Guerra follows the river. Just another clue to the turbulent history reenacted here, in this serene and peaceful setting.
I’ve passed by the Camara Municipal, with its stylish red balconies. Red and ochre compliment the white so well, the shabby blending well with the chique. Turning up Rua Dr. Antonio Jose de Almeida, I am but following my nose, not sure where to look next.
The decision is made for me when I spot this playful graffiti on a peeling wall. Isn’t it beautiful? And on the other side of the narrow street, an elegant vermilion door, with a single flower tucked into the window. Never forget to look up too! Overhead, ornate drain pipes open mouths wide.
Intent on the lovely distractions, almost without realising it you’ve climbed up to the castle walls and are looking down on the Oeiras tributary of the River Guadiana. Time to inject a little history as we approach the castelo and the lovely Igreja Matriz. The Mother Church began life back in the 8th century as a mosque. In 1238, Christian knights conquered the town, led by Santiago ‘Mata Mouros’.(the Moor killer) The Koran was replaced by the Bible, and the mosque converted to Nossa Senhora da Assuncao. A keep was added to the castle, but the church retains its ‘mihrab’ (prayer niche) to this day.
New pathways and landscaped gardens have been added since I was here last, and a huge project is ongoing to excavate the ruins of the town and elaborate mosaics. In May every odd year a Moorish festival takes place in Mertola. I must ensure to attend in 2017 to inspect progress.
I peered with interest at the ruins and promised myself to find the site online when I got home. Here it is. For us it was time to head back down, past Igreja Matriz, and search out somewhere to relax. Ever alert, my other half had noted a cafe at the back of the small Mercado. ‘Cafetaria Manu’ has a tiny terrace overlooking the Guadiana, and you can buy cake or a simple sandwich to accompany an excellent glass of wine.
From the eastern end of the Algarve, Mertola is easily reached on the virtually traffic free IC27, which leads north from Castro Marim. I thoroughly enjoyed my visit, and hope that you did too.
This is a scheduled post and I won’t actually be home until Thursday, so I apologise if my responses are a little scanty at first. I didn’t want to leave the gap between walks for too long, and needed to write this while it was fresh in my memory. Thank you all for your lovely company and support. I only have a few shares this week but I’m hoping you’ve been saving them for my return.
As usual, details are on my Jo’s Monday walk page. Just click on the logo above.
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I’m starting with a lovely man in Hamburg and an unusual look at life – thanks, Tobias!
U3: Landungsbrucken- St. Pauli
A head for heights will help but is not essential to accompany Anabel, but money could be!
And Jackie tells me that Chinatown is great for food :
Geoff’s rambling again! I think we should humour him, don’t you?
K is for Kensington and Khelsea #atozchallenge
This next is a bike ride so I’m afraid you’ll have to jog to keep up with Kathrin!
Hope this finds you happy and well. I’ll be back in person soon. Roving temporarily suspended….
So little time this week, but how can you resist late April snow on an Amelanchier? I just had to tiptoe across the garden in my ‘jamas. Barely ten minutes later the sun was had melted most of it away. Was I imagining things?
No more macros from me. I’m catching a plane early tomorrow. But you might squeeze one in? Jude would love it if you could.
I ought to disable comments but by the time I work out how to, it’ll be tomorrow, so please excuse me if I don’t reply. Bye for now! See you in 2 weeks. Stay well!
Just before I made off for the Algarve I had time to squeeze in one last walk. I’ve been to the North Yorkshire village of Great Ayton many times, and had not really expected to share with you another walk there. 150 photos proved me wrong, and I think you might like to share one or two of them. Who can resist wobbly, white lambs?
I almost didn’t get there because our walk leader’s car was sick, but I bestowed the walk leader badge on my other half, and off we went.
It was a bit fresh, and misty, but with the bunting flapping wildly, we crossed over the narrow bridge and headed up the side street out of the village. More about the bunting later. There’s a sign pointing out a public footpath, which leads between houses and a big hawthorn fence, round past the cricket pitch, over a field and down to a stream. Are you still with me so far? It’s tricky!
This is where you should end up. Cross over the little bridge and you come out into a country lane. More bunting and a bridge with a scruffy sign, pointing to Easby and Kildale. You don’t want either of those options today, so proceed gently uphill past Brookside Farm.
The goose, though handsome, is the honkiest, noisiest creature. The cow, much more placid. At about this point we were joined by a young ex-army man, out looking for fresh air and exercise. Hadn’t he come to just the right place! We chatted pleasantly along the lane. The conversation was of Pisa and travels abroad, and I totally missed the fact that the farm cafe was open. Not like me, at all! The husband was more alert but didn’t point it out till after we’d parted company with our walker friend. We directed him uphill towards Captain Cook’s Monument. A much sterner test for the legs, and one that we declined that day.
The daffs were everywhere, and a sprinkling of primroses too. As we hailed the morning rider, White Cottage came into view, with a stunning fanfare of rhododendron. The crossroads here lead down to Little Ayton, and continue on into Great Ayton itself. Probably the recommended route for strollers but, if you choose to puff and pant uphill, you will find a footpath off to your left. This takes you across a field. If you’ve timed it right, you could be in for a real treat.
I don’t think I ever saw such bright, white, new ones! One of the little fellas had managed to find his way out of the field, and away from the safety of his mother’s side. He was scrambling frantically to find a way back in, while Ma looked on in exasperation. I stood politely and quietly by, holding the gate just a little ajar for him. I didn’t want any adventurous brothers or sisters skipping out to join him. But I need not have worried. With a twitch of his stubby tail, he was under the gate and gone, with barely a backwards glance.
For us, the trail led on, very muddily, over the railway tracks and back down into the village. Where finally all of that bunting was explained.
The Tour de Yorkshire is coming to the village on May 1st, and the villagers were out in force, bedecking and festooning with bunting and bikes.
And I’m not done yet! Past the cascades and along by the river, romantically trailing willows, still there’s more bunting and bikes to see. I think they’re going to have a high old time on 1st May, don’t you? I almost wish I could be there.
As we returned to our car, parked by the riverside, my husband spied a rather lovely magnolia. I couldn’t quite get close enough for a decent shot, but I found a reward of a different kind. A tiny raised gate led into the churchyard beyond. I had stumbled upon James Cook’s childhood church, All Saints, dating from the 12th century. In this lovely spot, his mother and siblings are buried.
If you happen to be in the area on May 1st, Stage 3 of ‘Tour de Yorkshire’ starts in Middlesbrough and races down over our beautiful Moors, ending at Scarborough on the north east coast. Myself, I will be in Poland, but I might just catch a glimpse on the sports news. A map and full details of the route are contained in the links.
I’m glad I managed to fit in this post, not least because it gives me the opportunity to showcase some amazing walks. Where else will you find Korcula, the Shropshire Hills and Katmandu, all on the same page? Please don’t miss any of them. Huge thanks to all my contributors, and to all of you for your patience in my absence.
I’m going to have to take liberties again, because very early on Thursday I’m off to Poland with Dad. I don’t return until 12th May and will have only limited internet access whilst there. If you would like to share a walk in the meantime, you’re very welcome to do so. Details are, as always, on my Jo’s Monday walk page. Just click on the logo above.
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If I had to shortlist places to see before I finally vanish, Hawaii might well be on it. You will enjoy this!
And just to totally convince you, Carol’s taking us to a waterfall :
Geoff took me to familiar and much loved haunts with this walk :
G is for the Greenwich#atozchallenge
Becky gave me the gentlest of nudges before I set off for the Algarve. Isn’t this walking bliss?
Anabel finds the loveliest chateau, and a little bit of mud!
Shakespearean sonnets make for an interesting garden stroll with Trav Trails :
And Jackie is out looking for signs of Spring in Toronto :
Another walk I’d really love to take for myself one day. Say hello to the folks on this lovely island :
Top Views of Korcula- Walking Route
I love a walk that’s a bit different, and Karen provides exactly that!
While Gilly takes us for a lunch time romp among the bluebells :
Seriously good ‘value for money’ from Denzil, with a city walk and boat trip too :
A lovely welcome home arrived from Susan. So like one of my own Tavira beach walks :
And what can you say about Tish? An astoundingly beautiful return visit for me, which I thoroughly enjoyed :
Happy Earth Day from the Shropshire Hills, some of the world’s Oldest Rock Formations :
I would not have believed it possible to have so much delight on a homecoming. My cup runneth over, Badfish!
So there we have it, for a couple of weeks. I have some lovely Algarve walks to share with you, but they’ll have to wait for a little while. I might try to schedule a post for May 9th, the Monday before I come home, but it would probably be more sensible to wait until 16th. In the meantime, I will visit and share as much as I can. Do look after yourselves, won’t you? And very happy walking!
restlessjo 
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