Poljska/Poland 🇵🇱

 Poljska


Srida je, već je 15h popodne, a let mi je u 17. Nisan ništa ruča, pa smo tako Honza i ja odlučili brzinski pojist u Burger Kingu, ulazimo i naručujemo, inače se čeka nekih 6-7 minuti u tu uru. Sidimo i čekamo, ja već nervozan, 20 minuti kasnije dobivamo burgere, jebo ih burger king da ih jebo... Živčanim korakom idemo do njega doma pojist i ja ću na aerodrom. Dobro je, pojia san, imam nekih uru i 15 minuti, bit će dosta. Sidan na Rockya, bajk koji me nikad nije iznevjeria, a vrijednost mu nije ni 200 kuna. Ladno je, puše vitar u prsa, idem prema aerodromu. U glavi mi je samo da se most sad ne digne, inače ću i tu čekat. Kad ono tuf, ispadne lanac s Rockya, namištan ga, čupan ga vanka, cili san se zašporka. Šprintan prema aerodromu ko Roglič na Touru. Stižen, dobro je. Zvoni mi mobitel i zove me ćaća, on uvik zna pogodit moment kad da zove, kad je najnezgodnije. Skidan masku i dok pričan s njim, vitar mi je skoro odnija, napravia san okret od 360, s figurom balerine. Taxisti se smiju. Ulazim na avion i letim za Copenhagen. 




U Copenhagenu pri ulasku u avion nam mire temperaturu, neka žena je imala povišenu, pa je nasta sveopći kaos, Svađa se gospođa da ona oće unutra i nema... Međutim mrtvo ladno je vraćena na ulaz za boarding. Kraj nas prolazi policajka i uvodi lika u lisicama u avion. Svima neka knedla u grlu, osim sestri isprid mene, mrtva pijana Dankinja, ne može stat na nogama, nosi je livo desno, nema fibru, pa može u avion, a doduše i denzificirana je iznutra. Nekulturno se ponašala tokom cijelog leta, ali neka, 7 dalekih redova ispred mene. 

Slijećem u Varšavu i ostaje mi za prikratit 2 ure, pa sam pogleda Hrvatska-Francuska. Aerodrom sablasno prazan. 


Let za Lublin je traja nekih 20 ak minuta, izlazim iz aerodroma, ladno je, već skoro i ponoć. Dolazi sivi Peugeot, iz njega izlazi Piotr, nakon puna 3 miseca šta se nismo vidili, znamo i jedan i drugi ovo će bit odlično putovanje.

Dolazimo u njega doma, a tamo me čeka njegov tata Marek, s nekoliko Perłi na stolu i Cebulašem, židovskim jelom, tijesto, na vrhu s kapulom i makom, te pomom, posoljenon i popaprenon.

Nakon šta smo nazdravili i ispričali se, mrtav umoran san zaspa u 3 ujutro. 



Jutro je, četvrtak, svježi i odmorni idemo marendat, a na stolu, domaća Poljska kobasica, kiseli kukumari i pome. Diš bolje!? Potom odlazimo do grada. Tamo san vidia novi teatar, sveučilište Ivana Pavla 2 te stari grad. Svidia mi se Lublin, nije velik, a opet nije ni mal. Treba naglasit da je grad sa 400.000 ljudi i 9. u Poljskoj. 



Stari grad je interesantan, jako lipo uređen, s originalnim ostatcima grada prije rata. Otišli smo do dvorca, razgledali ga te sam naučio dosta o povijesti tog dvorca. Tko god je vlada, ima je istu svrhu s njin, stavit ga ka zatvor. Rusi, pa onda Njemci, pa onda opet Rusi. Danas je dvorac turistička atrakcija i muzej, fala Bogu nije više zatvor. Pojili smo pierogie i popili pivo.




Nakon šetnje po gradu nismo znali di bi. Piotr je ima neke svoje ideje, međutim ja san tia otić na Majdanek-konc logor. Ne želim ovdje ubacivat politiku i povijest, pa ću o tome pisat odvojeno.

Pojeli smo tradicionalni Poljski ručak, nazdravili votkom te otišli igrati biljar. Navečer smo otišli do grada na piće, tu sam upoznao brata Janeka i prijatelja Viktora. Bila je odlična večer, sve opisuje scena iz McDonaldsa u 2 ujutro di smo puštali Kazahstanske pisme iz Borata. Dolazimo doma, nazdravljamo ko zna već kojom Perłom i idemo leć.





Budi me Pjotr, ulazi u sobu, idemo u Varšavu. Jedino šta san uspia reć, onako polu mrtav polu živ, bilo je Voda. Sve mu je bilo jasno, on i pas Borat su mi donili vodu. Refa san se i nakon marende smo se zaputili u Varšavu s prijateljem koji je iša po curu, zaboravia san mu ime. 

U Varšavi smo. Ladno je u 3 pičke materine, nema boljeg opisa od ovoga, puše neki glupi vitar iz smjera rijeke Wisle. Kraj dvorca smo, šetamo i obilazimo ga. Potpuno je obnovljen ili ti ga ponovno izgrađen nakon 2. svjetskog rata, di je 85% Varšave bilo sravnjeno sa zemljom. Unutar dvorca je muzej kojega smo prošli uzduž i poprijeko. Nakon toga je uslijedila šetnja po gradu. Svidia mi se grad, ima šarma i stila. Drago mi je vidjeti volju i snagu Poljskog naroda kroz taj grad, koji je iz temelja ponovno nika, u trenutno najbrže rastući grad u Europi.




Umorni sidamo pojist neke sendviče i nastavljamo šetnju, a poslije toga jedemo tradicionalnu Poljsku juhu iz bundeva od kruha. Svašta, ali bilo je lipo, domaća spiza.



Nakon toga smo otišli do modernog središta grada, koji me još više oduševia. Iiako san bia u Varšavi ima godinu ipo dana, svejedno, svaki put je drukčiji doživljaj grada. Nakon razgledavanja smo otišli u muzej Varšavskog ustanka, to ću kasnije svrstati u već spomenuti - drugi blog.



Dolazimo u apartman, umorni ležimo i normalno, pijemo Perlu. Te Perle san popija ko nikad u životu, čudo piva. Izlazimo u noćni provod. Bilo je super. U 2 ujutro krećemo prema apartmanu, a neke dvi Romkinje (ciganke) nas vataju i oće da idemo u striptiz klub. Obzirom da mi je sve to više nego sumnjivo govorin da ne pričam ni jedan jezik osim Hrvatskog, pa me počela vriđat na Slovačkom, ne znan zašto, ali dobro. Makle su se od mene, međutim kako je Piotr s njima priča na Poljski, zalipile su se ka muve na govno, dok ja nisan upotrijebia specijalnu Hrvatsku (Balkansku) moć agresivnog psovanja nasri ulice, s mahanjem ruku, u stilu raščerupane kokoši. Otišle su ća, a i mi smo, leć.



Budimo se ujutro, mamurni. Tribamo nazad za Lublin, Piotr ide do Žabke kupit nešto za pojist, i kavu. Obziron da smo bili malo sjebani od noći prije, ja san umisto cukra uvalia sol u kavu. To sve govori o našem stanju.

Do Lublina smo išli Bla Bla caron i začudo lik je s nama bia voljan pričat engleski, šta je bilo super, da mi nismo bili satrani, al aj, nema veze, neka.



Došli smo u Lublin i otišli u muzej tradicionalnog Poljskog sela. Oduševljen! Klasično Slavensko selo, ali originalno sačuvano na jednom mistu, kroz stoljeća i godine. Fenomenalno! 





Imaju i životinje, pa smo Piotr i ja zatekli guske u seksu. Kad smo došli ove su se počele grist, i sad mi stojimo i gledamo u njih i ja mu objašnjavam da se pare, a on debil ne viruje.  Kaže amo bliže. Prolazimo mi kraj njih, kad je ova gornja guska skočila i raširila krilaaaa. Čovik je ima prva tri koraka ko Usain Bolt na 100 metara. Umrli smo od smija, da smo uspili prikinit parenje gusaka i još je ova postala agresivna, eh živote...

Dolazimo u njega doma, večeramo obiteljski, nazdravili smo sa votkom Žubrovkom i Stock, koja je originalno iz Lublina. Nakon toga smo imali obiteljsko druženje uz scene iz Borata. Odlazimo u grad. U gradu je bilo vrh, opet nebrojeno puno popijenih Perła. Prijatelj od Piotreka, koji je malo više popija je ima najjaču konverzaciju života sa mnon. Prvo san ga pita na engleski: “Brate, are you cold?” Normalno, u onakvom stanju nije razumija engleski, pa san proba s Hrvatskin, pa ni to nije išlo. E jebat ga, onda san ga izmiksa: “Bracie, tiš zimno?” A on je na to odgovoria: “Ne, ja sam Čarek” 

Umra san od smija i odusta od daljnje konverzacije. Sili smo ga u taxi i poslali doma, a mi smo odigrali koju partiju biljara i išli leć. 


Jutro je, jutarnja šetnjica s Boratom po kvartu da se otriznimo i kupimo kruv. Marendajemo.  Piotrekovi mama i tata su uzbuđeni jer nas vode na izlet u Kazemierz Dony, a ne zna se ko je gori, on ili ja, oči polu zatvorene, a njih dvoje puni energije. Pa smo tako on i ja, jedva uspeli brdo iznad grada, zasili i uživali u pogledu. Grad je mal i prekrasan, šta je, je. A u blizini je i skijalište.




Nakon razgledavanja smo sili na pivu, koja se originalno i proizvodi tu. I otišli na ručak. Na povratku san ja zaspa u autu.

Navečer smo otišli na večeru u Lublinu, prošetali po gradu i pogledali film Varšava 1944. Pozdravia san se s njegovima i lega. Brat luđak me vozia na aerodrom ujutro u 4:15.



Bratu Piotreku i njegovoj obitelji se zahvaljujem na najboljem putovanju svog života, na najboljem gostoprimstvu ikad. To mi je samo otvorilo oči koliko smo mi i Poljaci povezani, koliko smo isti. 




Isto tako, počele su mi se vraćat one istinske Slavenske vrijednosti koje sam možda lagano počea gubit, živeći i radeći u ne ljubaznoj i hladnoj Danskoj.

VIDEO: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-VEz_yTAbZE&t=1s


ENG

Wednesday, it's already 3 pm, and my flight is at 5 pm. I did not have lunch, so Honza and I decided to have a quick meal at Burger King, we go in and order, usually, we wait for an order for about 6-7 minutes at that hour. We sit and wait, I'm already nervous, 20 minutes later we get burgers, fuck burger king and fuck burgers... With a nervous walking tempo, we got to his place to eat and I'll go to the airport. It's fine, chill, I have about an hour and 15 minutes, that's enough. I jumped on my Rocky, a bike that never let me down, and its value is not even 200 kuna. It's cold, the wind is blowing in my chest, I'm going to the airport. All I have in my head is that the bridge will hopefully not rise now, otherwise, I'll wait there too. That would be tuff, but then, the chain from Rocky falls out, it is worn out, I am trying to get it outside, I am nervous. Sprinting towards the airport like Roglič on the Tour. It's over, I managed, it's good. My cell phone rings and my dad calls me, he always knows to guess the perfect moment when to call, when it is most inconvenient. I took off my mask and while talking to him, the wind almost blew my mask away, so I made a 360-turn, with the figure of a ballerina. Taxi drivers are laughing. I get on a plane and fly to Copenhagen.



In Copenhagen, when we boarded the plane, our temperature was measured, a woman had a fever, so there was general chaos. The lady argues that she wants to go inside and she doesn't ... However, she was returned to the boarding entrance, dead cold gameplay from Stuart. A policewoman walks past us and puts a handcuffed man on the plane. Everyone has a lump in their throat, except for the sister in front of me, a dead drunk Dane, she can't stand on her feet, she is going left and right, she doesn't have a temperature, so she can get on a plane, to be honest, she is densified from the inside. She behaved uncultured throughout the whole flight, but thanks God, 7 rows in front of me.

I landed in Warsaw and I have 2 hours left, so I checked at the Croatia-France football match. The airport is eerily empty.

The flight to Lublin takes about 20 minutes, I leave the airport, it's cold, it's almost midnight. A gray Peugeot is coming, Piotr is coming out of it, after a full 3 months we haven't seen each other, we both know, this will be a great trip.

We came to his home, and there his father Marek waiting for us, with a few Perła on the table and Cebulaš, a Jewish dish, dough, topped with onions and poppies, and tomatoes, salted and peppered.



After we made a toast and had a nice talk, I fell asleep dead as fuck at 3 am.

It's morning, Thursday, fresh and rested, let's go for breakfast, and on the table, homemade Polish sausage, sour cucumbers, and tomato. Can it be better !? Then we went to the city. There I saw a new theater, the University of John Paul 2 and the old town. I like Lublin, it’s not big, and yet it’s not small either. It should be emphasized that the city with 400,000 people is the 9th in Poland.


The old town is interesting, very nicely decorated, with the original remains of the town before the war. We went to the castle, saw it and walked around, I learned a lot about the history of that castle. Whoever is in government has the same purpose as the previous one, to make the castle jail. Russians, then Germans, then Russians again. Today, the castle is a tourist attraction and a museum, thank God it is no longer a prison. We ate some pierogi and drank beer.


After walking around the city we didn’t know where to go. Piotr has some ideas of his own, but I wanted to visit Majdanek, a concentration camp. I don’t want to insert politics and history here, so I’ll write a blog about it separately.



We ate a traditional Polish lunch, made a toast with vodka, and went to play billiards. In the evening we went to town for a drink, there I met his brother Janek and his friend Viktor. It was a great evening, everything can be described by a scene from McDonald's at 2 in the morning where we played Kazakh songs from Borat. We came home, drank some Perla, and went to bed.


Piotr woke me up by entering the room, let's go to Warsaw. The only thing I could say, half dead, half alive, was VODA. Everything was clear to him, he and the dog Borat brought me water. I got fresh and after brunch, we went to Warsaw with a friend who was going to pick up his girlfriend, forgot his name, tbh, sorry.


We are in Warsaw. It's cold in 3 picke mile matere, there's no better description than this, some stupid wind is blowing from the direction of the river Wisla. We are near the castle, walking and touring it. It was completely rebuilt after World War II, where 85% of Warsaw was razed to the ground. Inside the castle is a museum that we passed along and across. This was followed by a walk around the city. I like the city, it has charm and style. I am glad to see the will and strength of the Polish people through this city, which is from the ashes up again, into the currently fastest growing city in Europe.



Tired, we sit down to eat some sandwiches and continue our walk, after which we eat traditional Polish pumpkin bread soup. Anything, but it was really nice, homemade food.

After that, we went to the modern city center, which thrilled me even more. Although I was in Warsaw a year and a half ago, it is still a different experience of the city every time. After sightseeing, we went to the Museum of the Warsaw Uprising, which I include in the already mentioned - second blog.

We arrived at the apartment, lied down tired, and normally, we drank Perla. I had so many of them, the miracle of beer. We went for a night out. It was great. At 2 in the morning, we left the club and went for the apartment, and some two Romanian women (gypsies) are boring as fuck and want us to go to a strip club. Since all of this is more than suspiciously, I told them that I do not speak any language except Croatian, so she started insulting me in Slovakian, I don't know why, but okay. They moved away from me, but as Piotr talks to them in Polish, they stuck to him like the flies on the shit, while I did not start using special Croatian (Balkan) power of aggressive swearing in the middle of the street, waving my arms, up and down, side to side, like a rollercoaster, in the style of a torn chicken. They're gone, and so are we, bedtime.

Woke up in the morning, hangover. We have to go back to Lublin, Piotr goes to Žabka to buy something to eat, and coffee. Since we had been a little fucked up the night before, I put salt in my coffee instead of sugar. That action explains our condition.

We went to Lublin by Bla Bla car and surprisingly the driver was willing to speak English with us, which was great if we were not fucked up.

We came to Lublin and went to the museum of the traditional Polish village. Delighted! A classic Slavic village, but originally preserved in one place, through centuries and years. Phenomenal!

They also have animals, so Piotr and I found geese having sex. When we came these started to bite, and now we are standing and looking at them and I explain to him that they are mating, and he is not believing me, what a legend. He came closer. We pass by them when this upper goose jumped and spread its wings. The man has the first three steps like Usain Bolt on the 100 meters. We died of laughter...

We come to his home, have dinner as a family, we toast with vodka Žubrovka and Stock, which is originally from Lublin. After that, we had a family get-together with scenes from Borat. We're going to town. There was a peak in the city, again countless Perla drunk. A friend from Piotrek, who drank a little more, has the strongest conversation in life with many. First, the dream asks him in English: "Brother, are you cold?" Normally, he doesn't understand English in that condition, so he tried Croatian with him, so it didn't work either. Fuck him, then the language mixes him up: "Bracie, tis zimno?" And he replied, "No, I'm Carek."

I gave up on the further conversation. We sent him home by taxi.



It's morning, a morning walk with Borat around the neighborhood to sober up and buy bread. We have breakfast. Piotrek's mom and dad are excited because they are taking us on a trip to Kazemierz Dony, and it is not known who is worser him or me, eyes half-closed, and the two of them full of energy. So Piotr and I, barely climbing the hill above the city, sit on the top and enjoying the view. The city is small and beautiful. And there is a ski resort nearby.

After sightseeing, we force ourselves on beer, which is originally produced there. And went to lunch. On the way back I fell asleep in the car.

In the evening we went to dinner in Lublin, walked around the city, and watched the movie Warsaw 1944. Say goodbye to his family and lie down. Brother Piotr drove me to the airport at 4:15 in the morning.

I thank Brother Piotrek and his family for the best journey of my life, for the best hospitality ever. It just opened my eyes to how connected we and Poles are, how much we are the same.


Likewise, those true Slavic values ​​that I may have slowly begun to lose, living, and working in an unkind and cold Denmark, began to return to me.

VIDEO: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-VEz_yTAbZE&t=1s

Primjedbe