Szczecin, city of fog
We packed our bags the night before, and set off at a reasonable hour for the four hour drive to Szczecin.
Bohdan was already long gone for the day, out to get supplies for the farm. So we had a good long hug with Aunty Ewa and Aunty Christina, promising another visit in the summer when the weather wasn’t so cold. We only stopped once along the way for a rather interesting lunch in a pokey little town on the way, and got into Szczecin by the late afternoon. We went straight to see Uncle Jurek, Papa’s brother, and Aunty Anja, who live in a flat on the 6th floor of the main street.
Of course, we were all taught like good children to never arrive somewhere empty handed, so we found a small bakery and picked up some cakes before heading up the stairs. My first glimpse of Uncle Jurek was uncanny, he looks so similar to Papa, although ten years younger. Aunty Anja is not so well, but Uncle Jurek looks after her well.
So again we were sat around the dining room table to eat coffee and cake. Not half an hour after that Uncle Jurek was asking if we were going to take our supper with them. Well, we had no food and hadn’t even checked into the hotel yet, so of course we said yes please and in no time a platter of food was laid in front of us with Lija and I trying to be as helpful as possible.
Uncle Jurek nearly died of shock when he found Aunty Anja in the kitchen attempting to wash the dishes, something, Magda told us, that she hasn’t done in months. She went to lie down on the couch for a while, but hadn’t finished her medication. So I took it in with some water and said Prosze – Please – and she took them for me and gave me a hug, so I said thank you.
We talked and talked for hours, Magda translating, through supper, through more cakes and coffees, with Anja pushing food onto our plates, so I said no don’t make me eat – you have some, Magda said in Polish. She shook her head. So I took an apple cake and put it on my plate, and her eyes lit up, happy to feed me. Then I took a knife and cut it in half, placing half on her plate, and then stuffing my piece in my mouth, munching and smiling and enjoying it. So she took hers and ate it too, and that became my game for the next few meals we spent with them. A bit for me, a bit for you. We think it’s the most she’s eaten in the last month, and not for trying.
We sat at the table writing down our whole family tree. With Uncle Jurek and Magda’s knowledge, we came out with about 5 A5 pages of information, more still that Magda said her mum could add to. Because the freeway system was a bit confusing Uncle Jurek drove in front of Magda to get us to the hotel. It was sub-standard. Honestly, I’ve been in a lot nicer hostel rooms for a lot less per night, but Magda hasn’t done the hostel thing before so we had a three bed room to ourselves. It still was quite early for us so we went for a walk around town, looking at a few of the sites as the mist started to fall around us. We had nice hot chocolates before heading back for a sleep.
The next morning we headed over to Uncle Jurek’s for breakfast, he’d said he had enough food but we know he must have snuck out early because there were a few cakes that weren’t there beforehand! He took us for a drive to the big cemetery on the side of town where we got to see our great grandpa Hieronin. Then Uncle Jurek drove us around town to a few of the main sites. What we could see was quite pretty, but we still couldn’t see a lot because the mist had settled into a deep grey fog covering the whole city.
We went back to the flat and took Magda’s car closer to the castle, walking along a non-existent river and ending up at the church with the big bell outside. Then we went on a wild goose chase looking for a learning Polish book that Uncle Jurek had got us, but because we’re not living together it’s a bit difficult to share and we’re both keen to improve our Polish. So off we went to one bookshop then the next. We were a bit late for dinner at 3pm, but Uncle Jurek had cooked us a really nice meal. Soup to begin then potatoes and sort of Polish meatballs and nicely marinated meat and then some vegetables. It was delish and Aunty Anja sat there trying to spoon more and more onto Lija’s plate, who was sitting there already balking full. So I put one meatball on my plate and then one onto hers and we both ate them.
I think the rest of the afternoon was followed by more cakes, and then supper, and organizing the next day. We had popped out in the afternoon to buy my train ticket from the main station, which was really confusing and I’m so glad I had Magda to help me otherwise it would have taken twice as long and been twice as frustrating – as if this experience wasn’t. I’m sure Magda had a few Polish expletives in there somewhere!
Magda was taking Lija to the airport for her 9am flight with Ryanair – if you remember previous conversations I told her I’d rather get home by train, car or donkey than fly Ryanair – so my plan was to take the train to Hamburg and fly out from there. We had an early breakfast at Uncle Jurek’s before the girls took off, and then I didn’t have to leave for another half an hour. Uncle Jurek and I tried to talk to each other in bits of Polish and English, and were sort of successful (!) but it wasn’t easy. He drove me down to the station and helped me onto the train, waiting until it was ready to depart. The both of us had a teary farewell and I took a deep breath as I set off on this solo part of my journey.
I sat watching the countryside flash by, but never realized when we had crossed the border between Poland and Germany. It took about three hours to get to the little country town of Bützow, in the north-east. I had to wait for an hour for the train that would take me to Hamburg. I had visions of a few different places as the train rolled through the outskirts, getting closer to the central station. I didn’t realize Hamburg is built on a canal system, and has a few spiffy bridges to carry the trains into town. It was the first nice day I’d had where there were no clouds and the sun was even out, so I hurried to drop my backpack off at the hostel and get out exploring.
I spent the afternoon wandering around the canals, the churches, I stopped in at one place which was a church, but all that stands is the spire now, so the crypt was transformed into a museum, showing the British destruction of Hamburg from the war, and also the destruction that Germany reaped onto Coventry. This is where I had to use my German first, as the lady at the desk spoke no English. So I stopped, gathered my German into an understandable sentence and asked her if I could have a look around. It costs, she told me. Yes, that’s okay. €3.50. And I counted it out to her. I was quite pleased with myself. She’s still got it, I thought!
The photos were terrifying. Before and after shots of well-known landmarks around the area. What looked like dolls houses with many rooms sitting open to the elements as one side of the building had been blasted off. Parts of the church had been saved, and the stained glass had been hidden and one of the other churches and only re-discovered last decade.
I walked until my feet were sore, until I had crossed the whole map of the city. I couldn’t find anywhere suitable for dinner because I had changed £20 earlier and after commission had been taken out they left me with €18.50. Rubbish. So I wandered back to the main station, as my hostel was close by, and found a nice restaurant called Swineski, a play on pork. What was I to do but have the schnitzel?
I got back to the hostel, it wasn’t early but not late either. I was stoked that I had a whole six-bed dorm to myself, so I put my back on my bed and swiveled the TV around watching NCIS and Numbers in German while packing my bag properly for the plane. I couldn’t follow it word-by-word but they’re not difficult to understand. I was interrupted at 11pm with a new roomie, a young German guy. He said he can only speak basic English, I said I can only speak basic German, we got on fine for the night.
My flight wasn’t until the evening so I had all day to kill. I’d pretty much seen the whole town last night, and this is when it all kicked in. I had been surrounded by lots of loud family for the last week, and now here I was wandering around all on my lonesome in the cold wind, with €10 to my name and way too much time, realizing how solitary it all felt.
I retraced my steps from last night to a small movie theatre that only showed VOs – version original. If a film was made in America, it was shown with American dialogue. If it was made in France, it was shown with French dialogue. The only film on that I had time to see was Twilight, which was amazing – I really enjoyed it and that has led to an obsession that I’ll explain later.
I went back to the hostel to grab my pack, and then back to the station to get the train to the airport. It didn’t take long, maybe half an hour. I had a nice, easy, comfortable flight home with Easyjet, and was already booked onto the Easybus. Turns out I made it in time for the earlier bus, and after a bit of banter with the staff – it was pouring rain and these guys just have to stand there and make sure the buses come in, fill up and leave, and that the driver has everything he needs too – told the guys I didn’t particularly want to have their job at that precise moment, a few funny stories about keeping warm with Polish vodka and all of a sudden I find myself getting comfortable for the hour long drive from Luton to Baker St. Phew. What a time.
Tags: Travel
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