Sukiennice, the impressive Medieval Cloth Hall, in Kraków’s Rynek Glowny
You might call me unimaginative, but I’d never thought a great deal about Poland until that strange evening, 12 years ago, when Dad got a phone call from ‘home’. For 64 years he’d had no contact with his Polish family, leaving the farm aged just 15, and in German custody. That phone call turned our lives upside down. Until then Dad had been my only Polish relative. Imagine, overnight, you belong in an enormous family, who don’t even speak the same language as you. But who welcome you with open arms.
That’s just how it was, and when Cathy asks ‘what is it that draws you to a place?’ then the lure of family surely has a part to play. Over at Wanderessence she’s been exploring the reasons why we travel, and so much more. I’ve always had that restless urge, but my first visit to Poland was a revelation. I’ve never been hugged and kissed so much in my life. Now, don’t get me wrong. Outside of family and friends, Polish people are not normally smiling nor especially welcoming. Given their history, they have good cause to hold a little in reserve. But Dad was the long lost brother, and was treated like Polish royalty, while I followed along in his wake, smiling fondly but often with little real idea of what was going on. The language barrier, you see.
Coach and horses have right of way in Rynek Glowny
The country looked so very different to the one I was used to calling home. The chalet style houses looked different, out in the countryside. One of the things I found really strange was that pipes often ran overhead alongside the country roads, rather than underground, as I was used. But in the historic centres of the cities, the intricately painted and decorated facades had me stand and gaze in awe. Kraków and Wrocław- I’ve been privileged to know both of these beautiful cities, because of my family.
Polish eating habits are different too. Second breakfast, lunch at 3 in the afternoon, and cake before and after almost everything! (that must be where I get it from 🙂 ) In the previous year, I and my husband had acquired a holiday home in Portugal. Totally different culturally and in climate too, yet I found myself wondering, if we had known of the existence of the Polish family sooner, would I have been looking for a house in Poland? I suspect I might. I’ve always had the sea on my doorstep, and Poland is landlocked on 3 sides. The Baltic coast is too far from family, but I’ve always been drawn to lakes and mountains too. A visit to the Pieniny Mountain range, and the spa resort Szczawnica, linger in my memory. Rafting through the Dunajec Gorge was a totally unforgettable experience.
I have shared some wonderful times with my Polish family, and written about them extensively, while trying not to give embarrassment. The series My Personal A-Z of Poland has many tales to tell. Dad died in October 2016 and I haven’t been back to Poland since. But I can still feel the call. Writing Easter cards took me back into each of their homes. New youngsters have been born since my last visit, but my elders are growing older and, in some cases, frail. I’m feeling the need to return, just once more, before starting my new life in the Algarve.
Dad with Uncle Wlodek, at home in Zgorzelec
I’m linking this to Cathy, on her series A Call to Place. The lady is a human dynamo, seeking to improve her travel writing and to entertain us along the way. Pay her a call. She’ll be so glad to see you.
restlessjo 
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