Once again I leave the linguistic experience aside because we don’t talk about serious stuff on holidays. However, next time Poland shows up in the blog, its language will too.
Day 1: The plane lands in Warsaw, the capital, at midday. My first host shows me around the most touristic parts in the centre and I remember those three days I spent there four years before.
Days 2-4: As my host works a couple of days, other friends in the city tourist-sit me in parks and bars. Even so, I stay in one morning to put together a jigsaw puzzle of his flatmate. It’s a picture of the Pope John Paul II—what did you expect from a Pole?
Day 5: It’s Saturday and Polish night life awaits. It’s not that different from ours, except for prices and the moves. The international move—stepping to the sides ad eternum—is very popular there. With my waist all over the place and the colours of my body, I’m easily noticed and two sentences ensure me lots of conversations: Mówię po polsku (‘I speak Polish’) and Jestem z Barcelonii (‘I’m from Barcelona’).
Day 6: I use every single minute I can to sleep before taking the bus that takes me to Gdynia, at the seaside, in seven hours. My next friend welcomes me with a brief stroll in the neighbourhood to buy pizzas for dinner and we go to bed early.
Days 7 and 8: The most beautiful and important city of the Trójmiasto (‘tricity’) is Gdańsk, but I keep it as a reason to go back and spend my morning on the beach and my evenings walking around Gdynia.
Day 9: After a last morning in the sun, the train delivers me to Poznań in less than five hours. This time I’m adopted by a couple who take me to a stand of delicious hamburgers and show me the city under the moonlight—and specially the lamp posts.
Days 10 and 11: My step-fathers [no mistake here] keep me really busy. We visit shopping centres (they build one every other year), cycle to the lake (and spot a deer!), I ride a one-person roller coaster where I control the speed and… we go to a water park… in Poland!… from 9 to 11 p.m.! Surreal. All that and more in a day and a half, for on the second day I go back to Warsaw and last week’s club; it’s Friday.
Days 12-14: My last host want to share my custody with a friend, therefore on Saturday in the morning a bus takes us to Wroclaw for further walking and party. On the bad side, we miss the musical fountain on Sunday in the evening because some rookies try to have a nap and just wake up next morning.
Days 15-17: Back in Warsaw, I spend an evening by the river, cycle around the city at night and go up to the floors 40 of a hotel and the Pałac Kultury, which offer great views on the capital. I even delight my host with a Spanish omelette and Iberian ham one night and the next we have a barbecue. On the following day I arrive to Barcelona at midnight; and I thought it was hot in Poland…