Introduction: Being in Berlin is, of course, splendid, but this month’s travel itinerary filled up in surprising – and very unexpected – ways. Since the beginning of September, I’ve spent time in four different cities and three different countries. Wait, what?
For the record, the cities are Zurich, Vaduz, Magdeburg and Boleslawiec. The corresponding countries outside of Germany, for those not tipped off by the cities, are Switzerland, Lichtenstein and Poland. I’ve been just a little busy. To my point, though. While all of these countries and the corresponding outings deserve posts, the most recent excursion takes precedence in my memory. Without further ado, I give you POLAND.
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Arriving in Poland has always been rather unusual for me – the two times I’ve journeyed over its borders, that is. The first time, I simply meandered over a bridge, the Oder River spreading its long blue tendrils out underneath, while I savored the sensation of walking into a different country.
The second time, though, I zipped past the welcome signs in the back of a 7-passenger automobile, truly alerted to the change of country when my smooth ride transformed into a roller coaster of bumps and constant vibrations running up my legs. Road upkeep obviously occupies a different priority level in Poland than in Germany.
Conversation for me and the girl sitting beside me on the back seat soon became hopeless, and I simply stared out the window, lulled by the monotonous –though neither sonorous nor soothing – grinding of wheels on unkempt road. Thankfully the signs were interesting. Despite neighboring Germany, Poland has an extremely foreign language, and I could only guess at the pronunciation of words with unknown vowel combinations and figures.
We’d left early in the morning, and even though I’d inhaled the coffee contents of my travel mug, the pre-7 a.m. departure, combined with the prolonged jarring, had left me somewhat groggy, spurred on only by the promise of two illusive p’s: pottery and pierogies.
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| Boleslawiec, a city flowing (and overflowing) with pottery. With such a sign welcoming visitors, it's obvious that the shopping experience will be a delight. |
Before the trip, I had a vague idea of what both entailed. One of my friends, and the organizer of this particular trip, has outfitted her entire kitchen with the cheerful, brightly colored pottery: plates, mugs, baking pans and all. And, two years ago, when I’d made the trek over the bridge, I was pretty sure I remembered the evening ending with stuffed-doughy goodness. If those particular delicacies were known as “pierogies,” I was set to be happy.
Nonetheless, I wasn’t prepared for the pure abundance and sheer beauty of the pottery shops. As we entered the first store, encountering the row upon row of blues, reds, yellows and greens in all sizes and shapes, I quickly realized one thing: I had not brought enough cash for this shopping adventure.
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| Pottery-lined shelves, pottery-covered floors, pottery everywhere you looked! Such a feast for the eyes and such fun to dream about dishes and decorations, compar- ing finds with friends and handing over the cash. |
I’d imagined casual pottery perusal, hoping, at best, for a Christmas present or two. But I met such an overload of dream-inspiring dishes that I could have spent all day (and all my money) drooling over the exquisite patterns. We spent the morning walking from shop to shop, comparing designs and prices and making tough differentiations between wants and needs. It may have been all wants in my case, but in the end, I settled on a beautiful pie plate, adorned with flowers and polka dots. After all, I’d missed having a pie plate several times over the last year, resorting, at times, to sticking a foil-covered stove pan into the oven for my culinary creations. Furthermore, pies are about as American as you can get, and baking them is almost a cultural obligation for school events. At least, that’s how I justified my purchase.
Following the first hours of admiring the gorgeous displays, we headed to the restaurant for lunch – an affair that did not disappoint. Based on recommendation, I ordered the spinach garlic pierogies. By the time the food arrived, I was hungry enough for the flavor to peak, and the small pouches of goodness covered in a delectable cream sauce were well-worth the resulting stomachache (Note to self: Do not leave lactose pills at home when travelling abroad for the day). Each mouthful was filled with flavor – exactly the right amount. Thanks to generosity and table trades, I also tried the meat and onion cheese varieties, though I was thoroughly satisfied with my personal choice.
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| Every shop we visited had outdoor displays, showing off samples of the goodies to be had inside. |
The afternoon concluded with a few last minute dashes to the closing shops. Saturday’s early evening meant we were free to head back to Berlin around 5 p.m., toting our treasures and still smiling about our delicious lunch…or maybe that was just me.
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| I fell in love with these dishes but, unfortunately, lacked the financial means to purchase them and the physical space in my suitcase to transport them back to the United States. Oh well, one can always dream. |
All in all, Poland for a day was well worth it, for those in the vicinity and with the means – by car, by foot, by train – I’d recommend the outing. Just remember your “p’s!”
