Slow in posting

Lately I placed my posts seldom and irregularly.First it was caused by not having access to internet when in Busko and now I have broke my right hand which makes it difficult to write but not impossible. I am writing my excuses hoping to get some sympathy. So many plans have to be changed now and I have to slow down, this is all depressing. I intend to use this time as well as I can, though. Any ideas?

Life in Polish Spa - Busko-Zdrój

 

Coat of arms of Busko-Zdrój - it has reputation of being a sunny place 

Busko-Zdrój is a Polish health resort. The health resorts are very different in Poland to what an Australian person may imagine, unless the person has read some novels about spa life in the XIX and beginning of XX century. Health resort here is about slow, non-sporty life. There are tennis courts but I have not seen anyone playing on them as yet. Mind you, I have been here only four days.

When I think about a spa I imagine ladies in flimsy dresses, hats with big rims carrying lacy umbrellas. In my imagination, they either take a walk down shady alleys protecting their complexion from unwanted sun, sipping their spa waters. They are surrounded by admirers or sit in coffee places smoking cigarettes in long cigarette holders, drinking their aperitifs. To me an old fashioned spa is flappers territory. I am not sure if my romantic imagination did not take me in a wrong direction, though. Spas were also places to cure people who were not well or at least thought they needed extra attention. Leaving my imagination populated by beautiful, flirty flappers aside, I will move on to my observations and experience of the last four days.

Current Europe, Poland included, is more egalitarian than in was in the period between the World Wars however there are two social categories of guests here. People who stay in elegant and expensive sanatoria and people who stay in rented rooms belonging to the locals. The first group eats in their canteens which are sometimes elegant and sometimes not so much. The second group has a choice where they want to go for their meals or they may want to prepare some of it themselves. However what two of the groups have in common are health treatments. All guests take sulphide or iodide-bromide baths, drink curative waters from natural springs, take inhalations, massages, compresses, water jets and similar. This needs to be supervised by a doctor, so the first day in a Polish spa starts with a visit to a doctor who chooses appropriate treatments. Typically people are prescribed 2-4 treatments per day. A day here starts early, my day today started with a massage at 7am, it was followed by a sulphide baths which is supposed to be good for one and cures many ailments then inhalations completed my today’s spa program. It all finished before 9.00 a.m. Obviously, I had a good planner organising my treatments.

I am here with my friend who has some health interest in this particular spa. I accompany her for fun mainly as I do not have problems Busko specialises in curing. Its waters and climate address different problems. However, I am here in a good company, having fun with my student friend and I was not about to miss out on the Busko routine while here. Just in case any of the readers think of curing some rheumatic or bone related problems, Busko-Zdrój is the place to do it.   You can have cure and fun for two weeks for less than $200. Plus accommodation and food which may vary a bit but averages $400 for a fortnight.

More exclusive sanatorium option is under $2000 per fortnight.

As I will be here for a while, I will continue with the spa subjects a bit more later. You may wonder what one does with the rest of the days here. There are walks, plenty of restaurants and coffee places to visit, dancing at night and chatting with neighbours or people met at various sanatoria. I expect that there is a degree of gossiping as holiday romances flourish.

Pleasures for older generation

And for the younger ones

I have not mentioned that, age average of the spa visitors is definitely 50+.

Gdańsk or Danzig?



The Gdansk Coat of Arms

Polish  are sensitive about Gdansk being referred to as Danzig but unfortunately this is the name better known by foreigners. It has been always a sensitive issue and I believe that German citizens of Gdańsk do not like its Polish name either. The thing is that the town was ruled by both of the nations for a considerable time.

The town was funded by the first Polish king Mieszko I in 980s. In the early times Gdansk changed hands frequently from Polish Dukes to Pomeralians.  From 1308 till 1454 Gdansk was a part of Teutonic Knights State. Only from 1454 Gdansk became a part of Polish Kingdom and for a considerable time, till 1793 when Poland was partitioned between Prussia, Russia and Austria and disappeared from the map of Europe for a long while. By that time Gdansk citizens were mixed nation, equally of Polish and German background. Both of the languages were used in the town.

After the First World  Gdansk became a free city in 1920.

Following Germany's defeat in World War I, the Allied powers in the Treaty of Versailles (1919) decided to create the Free City of Danzig (under a commissioner appointed by the League of Nations) covering the city itself, the seaport, and a substantial surrounding territory. The League of Nations rejected the citizens' petition to have their city officially named as the Free Hanseatic city of Danzig (Freie Hansestadt Danzig).^[41] The citizens of Danzig received a separate citizenship of the Free City and thus lost their former German citizenship.

This lasted till 1939. For Poland the World War II started in Gdansk, the 1^st of September 1939. And again Gdansk fell into German hands. From 1945 is again a part of the Polish Republic.  One consequence of Gdansk changing hands is a change of all streets names from German to Polish.

My imperfect calculations point to Gdansk being under Teutonic, Prussian or German ruling for about the same time as under Polish. About 300 years each off  and on.

Over the ages some world famous people were born in Gdansk. Among others: Hevelius – astronomer and the founder of lunar topology, Daniel Fahrenheit – father of the temperature scale; Arthur Schopenhauer – philosopher. None of those people are thought as having Polish origin. They were not. At the same time all of them were born in the period when Gdansk was under Polish ruling. This shows the nature of the city, both nations can claim the towns as theirs. This is why we, Poles are so sensitive when the town is referred to as Danzig.  Feelings are not always objective of know history too well.

              

                                                     Fahrenheit House - Gdansk



In one of my earlier posts I wrote about Henry Strassburger – the man of style. Henry is my friend who lives in Australia, in Sydney. His father 

Henryk Leon Strasburger (1887-1951) was a Polish economist, General Commissioner in the Free City of Danzig (now Gdańsk) and delegate to the League of Nations. He was also a member of the Polish government in exile during World War II. According to the New York Times, he was among the earliest and most outspoken of Poles to recognize the Hitler menace to his country. His warning was clear in his book The Case of Danzig, published some months before the outbreak of World War II.^[1]

As the General Commissioner of the Polish Republic he was responsible for liaison between the Senate and the Polish government of the Free City of Gdansk

 My friend Henry was born in Gdansk at Gralathstrasse.  He asked me once to find out what has happened to the house he was born in and find the street. After some enquiries I found out that the current name of the Gralathstrasse is now Hoene-Wronskiego. This is the street I live at when in Gdansk. Nice synchronicity, I think. The street is not long there are only 12 buildings there. All were build at the beginning of the XX century. The house Henry was born belongs to the Medical Academy and the ornaments on its facade indicate that it was maternity ward of the main Gdansk Hospital. It is the house at the corner of the street and my house is at the corner of the other end of the street.    

   

                       

                                                                                            



Sorry, Ray from Mummulgum

Some time ago I wrote about how my old IBM colleague explained to me that patriotism may lead to nationalism and we all know where it can end. Life convinced me that Ray was very right and I rarely display signs of nationalism. One of the reasons is that, as I said to my friend recently, I am confused about me feeling or not feeling European. There is so much of an Aussie in me, you see.

With all of that I see with even more confusion that I am rather nationalistic as far as tennis is concerned. Most of the non-Polish people do not know much about Polish tennis. Frankly there has not been all that much to know. But then it came Radwanska, today world number 3 tennis player.  She has not won yet any of the two most important, in my opinion, competitions– Australian Open or the Wimbledon. I hope there are some chances this year to change the score. She won yesterday over Li Na in a quarter final, nice revenge after the reversed situation in the Australian Open 2013. While I like Li Na and in any other situation I would cheer for her, yesterday was a different story.

My Polish nationalistic pride is getting stronger with each Wimbledon day. Will this last another day or more? I wish!  Today two Polish players – Kubot and Janowicz played against each other in the quarter final.   Beautiful tennis, by the way, I am sorry that my friends in Sydney will most likely not watch the match. The tennis commentators said many times today that there were many Great Slam matches when two Australians played against each other. So for my Aussie compatriots such situation is nothing special but when I put my Polish hat on I am proud that it has happened eventually to Poland as well.

Since yesterday, my cooking has improved as I have a small TV set in the kitchen and while I watch tennis I cook more elaborately than normally. Tonight it was a nice vegetarian dish and a  mandatory glass of red wine to cheer Janowicz victory.

Hurray for two Poles in the Wimbledon semi-final!

Linden trees are in bloom!

It is only lately that I started to notice beauty and details of nature. Trees and flowers open up a new way of experience to me. Well, it is the time in my life to smell the roses. This could be it. Now, that I spend the most beautiful months of the year in Poland I notice its nature in a different, more profound way.

Lindenstrasse today

I suppose I always liked linden trees as they are typically lining up streets making them look like alleys. This effect I always admired. However, I have learnt to notice more than that. Right now linden trees are in bloom. The flowers are not very showy as far as the visual side is concerned but they smell divine.

The street next to the house I stay in when in Poland used to be called  before the II World  War Lindenstrasse. At that time Gdansk was called Danzig and was The Free City of Danzig, half Polish, half German.

The Free City of Danzig (German: Freie Stadt Danzig; Polish: Wolne Miasto Gdańsk) was a semi-autonomous city-state that existed between 1920 and 1939, consisting of the Baltic Sea port of Danzig (today Gdańsk) and surrounding areas. It was created on 15 November 1920^[1][2] in accordance with the terms of Article 100 (Section XI of Part III) of the 1919 Treaty of Versailles.

The German name of the street was fully justified  by the presence of the trees and I am sorry that the name has been changed after the war to the name of Julian Tuwim, a Polish poet. While I love Tuwim’s poems, I would much preferred the exact translation from the old German name. More appropriate in my opinion as the linden trees are still  it their old place.

It is nice and warm at the moment in Gdansk and my windows are open most of the time. The smell of the trees comes to my place which is perfumed with linden fragrance. Lovely...

Snobism, silliness and oysters

 

Today I have been asked by my friend: do you like oysters? It made me smile as I recalled a situation taking place many years ago when I would have categorically answered such a question – Of course not, I am not a snob!

To explain such a strange reaction I need to go back many years to the time when I lived in Paris. This was the first foreign place I lived in after moving from Warsaw to the West. My readers may not know that I was brought up in communistic Poland not being aware of the limitations being exposed over Poles by the regime . I was happy in Poland, you may say, I did not know any better. And I did not. But this is a different story. This one is about oysters.

I despised snobbishness since I can remember. Sometimes I think I am a snob about not being snobbish.  One of friends of my, at the time, husband was a sophisticated, elegant, worldly girl and I decided that she was a snob by my standards. Now when I look at the situation I think that I was just silly and felt inadequate so I had to compensate it somehow by looking down at Charlotte’s (even the name seemed pretentious to me) worldly manners. One autumn she came to visit us in Paris and we went to a coffee place in the Latin Quarter. It was a simple Parisian place but Charlotte knew that they may serve oysters at this time of the year. She asked and got a confirming answer so oysters were ordered. Oh how I was disapproving!! How snobbish can one get?? Oysters?? Ha! I am not sure where I got the idea that to eat oysters is snobbish or exclusive. Maybe it  was one of the communistic, egalitarian ideas which rubbed off on me?

Anyhow the oysters were served and they smelled divine while they were shucked at the table. This is the French way; at least it was at that time.Suddenly the air in the coffee place full of cigarette smoke started to smell of sea, freshness, saltiness and a hint of lemon.

                                                

 

Charlotte was really a nice person, it was me, pehaps, who was not nice towards her. She generously offered me one to try. I still remember the inner fight : it is soooo snobbish to eat that, but it smells soooo good!! I was fighting with my old convictions for a while but I am glad that my silliness was won by the divine smell of oysters which from then on became one of my absolutely favourite foods. Fresh oysters, not cooked in any silly way some consider elegant. Me snobbish this time??? But I really think that fresh oysters are the best, especially the Sydney Rock ones.

Thank you Charlotte for the introduction to the wonderful food and a great lesson of appreciation of  smells and taste of sea captured in oysters. They won over my silliness and sense of insecurity.

Bugle Call from Krakow

For many years I did not think about Poland, for some years I even did not like the country. I felt an Australian even if I still have this funny, some call it charming, Polish accent . I personally do not see much “charming” about my accent but Poland is becoming this way to me. Charming. Also beautiful, sophisticated and sentimental as its people.

Recently I made the second time in my life the choice to live in Australia. I considered that Poland was not my country any more, just the country I was born in. Now I am starting to have doubts, not about living here. Australia is definitely my home. But big part of the space in my heart belongs to Poland and this  I am realising with each day I spent here.

Today, accidentally I changed the radio station and at midday I heard the time signal and Krakow bugle call. This is what I heard as a child and later on, the same sounds the same format.  Something moved in me hearing the sounds I have almost forgotten with time passing.

The Marker Square of Krakow

                                 



Krakow is in my mind the #1 town in Poland. Its XIV century Jagiellonian University, the market Square with its Cloth Hall, monuments, St Mary’s Basilica, doves, horse carriages and many coffee places around the square, the gothic Wawel Castle.... It all makes the town absolutely unique. The sites can be appreciated by Poles and by many visitors from other countries. It is more difficult to appreciate the cultural life of Krakow being a foreigner. In many local cellars there are literary cabarets, jazz concerts, poetry nights. Wonderful, rich, crazy, funny, sad, romantic, sentimental places and people. Krakow is a hermetic place, outsiders are welcome as tourists but not so much welcome into the most important part of the Krakovian life. Any Polish person coming from a place other than Krakow is considered to be an outsider, especially those coming from Warsaw. Those are looked down at, not cultured enough, I suppose.

St Mary's Basilica

                                           

Bugler of current days

The story of the bugle call may be a legend, but it is so much a part of the town history that one doesn’t question it. The St Mary’s Basilica with its two towers always played an important role in the town history. From one of the towers a municipal guardian heralded opening and closing of the city gates. He would also play the bugle in case of a danger. A legend says that in 1240 a bugler played a warning signal seeing Tatars approaching the town. As he played his warning tune an enemy arrow pierced his throat and the tune abruptly stopped. In remembrance of this event the tune is played every hour on the hour towards four directions of the world and interrupted suddenly to commemorate the events from the 1240. 

Bugler of current days

 This is how it sounds
This is a PS written more than one year after the original post but I found out something new about the bugle. Actually not so much about the bugle itself but about Jack Nicholson. He knows the bugle and he can sing it up to its sudden end! Ha! This is surprising. The reason is that he has been for many years a friend of the Polish film director Jerzy Skolimowski. They met in the 60ties when none of them was famous or rich. It was in Cannes and after smoking a few joints on the beach together they became fast friends. I shudder to think what kind of education Jack Nicholson may have received from the Polish larrikin, talented but  crazy and very creative man. And what did they do in Krakow for Jack Nicholson to learn the bugle? I am sure Nicholson knows a few positives about Polish girls.