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polska 2021

Polska 2021 Return

Saturday 14 August 2021

I woke up to a text from K that they’d made it through security without any issues.

I checked the flight tracking app I’d installed a month ago just for this trip.

They were well on their way.

And then, a rush to get them…

On the way, a wreck — forty minutes of sitting, crawling forward, sitting. Will I make it? Just how long will I be sitting here? What if I’m here an hour? Two?

Then the airport — lines for everything. The line for the taxis must have been 50 meters long — no exaggeration. It stretched half of the airport at least. And the line for luggage issues — at least half as long as the taxi line. People upon people everywhere. (Much to my relief, almost everyone in masks. I don’t know if it was required. I saw about 5% without.) Finally, I found them, we got the luggage, we made it home.

Four in the house again. Seven with the pets (dog, cat, frog). All is back to normal. More or less.

One Last Visit

Tuesday 10 August 2021

The last time this visit that E and his cousins get a chance to go to Wypasiona Dolina, the line park just outside Babcia’s village.

Cousins

Sunday 8 August 2021

K went to her aunt’s and uncle’s house to pick up something E had left there when they visited last week.

It turned out that all the cousins were there for a visit along with their kids.

Everyone together for the first time since our wedding, K and I figured.

Wraclaw

Friday 30 July 2021

A few pictures from K’s day trip to Wraclaw. Why would she take a train there in the morning and a return train in the afternoon?

It’s a “remember where you are” moment. When my American friend and I encountered inexplicable bureaucracy while living in Poland, we always said to ourselves, “Remember where you are.” When things were unnecessarily complicated, we always said to ourselves, “Remember where you are.” When you had to get a stamp on this piece of paper to get a stamp on that piece of paper to get a signature and stamp on that application to get a piece of paper glued into your passport saying you could stay in Poland, we always said to ourselves, “Remember where you are.”

In short, there’s nothing like inexplicable Polish bureaucracy.

Wypasiona Dolina 2021

Tuesday 27 July 2021

Despite the fact that L had a less-than-positive experience with the line park just outside of Jablonka, it became just about her favorite activity when at Babcia’s.

Overcoming

This year the Boy is old enough to do the larger courses, and it’s clear: he’ll probably share L’s opinion of the park.

Arrival 2021

Friday 23 July 2021

I check K’s location in the morning, knowing what I’ll find. If there had been any issues, K would have contacted me. But there she is, safe in sound in Jablonka.

In the afternoon, we FaceTime a little while as K and E return from a walk to the river — the walk. I see immediately the changes: at least half a dozen new houses along the gravel road where, ten years ago, there was only one and where, when we left Poland in 2005, there were none. Not terribly impressive growth by Greenville standards, to be sure, but in a little village…

As for other pictures — perhaps tomorrow. Today was a rest day, a day with Babcia — as it should be.

To Poland 2021

Thursday 22 July 2021

It’s been four years since we last did this. It’s actually been more like six — four years ago, we all went to Poland together. It was the 2015 trip that was split up. I wasn’t even planning on going that summer, in fact. This year, just K and E are going, and that long long journey began this morning with a departure from the house at 2:15 to arrive before 4:00 to make it for the 6:00 flight from Charlotte to JFK. We usually go Charlotte-Munich-Krakow, but with covid restrictions and such, K wanted to fly directly to Poland, which meant leaving from JFK. She reasoned she stood less of a chance of having problems getting into Poland with an American passport and an expired Polish passport than into an EU state. When we did all this planning, Americans were still not admitted into Europe, I think. So we left ridiculously early to arrive the requisite 2 hours before departure.

You can see in K’s expression just how excited she was. Even though the drive home would normally only be about an hour and twenty minutes, Google routed me a different way: 85 south was closed at some point for construction. We’d seen the backup forming (at 3:00 am), but I’d hoped it would have cleared up by the time I was heading back that way.

It was not, turning an hour-and-twenty-minute drive into a two-hour-twenty-minute drive. (I stopped just before getting on I77 to double-check, hence the two-hour-six-minute time.)

I got home to find Papa awake and needing assistance. By the time everything was squared away, it was 6:35. I set the alarm for 7:35 so I could get up to take L to volleyball conditioning, but of course I never really went to sleep. I was just dozing off as the alarm sounded. Back home at 8:00, I started Papa’s morning routine, then left the rest to our wonderful CNA and headed out to the store to buy a few things. No point in lying down for an hour again, I figured.

In the meantime, K and E were having their own adventure, collecting their bags (not checked all the way through because the original plan had been to drive to NYC), finding their way to the terminal from which LOT departs — all of which absolutely thrilled the Boy. In Munich the last time we were there, he was thrilled by all the moving walkways, all the planes visible from the terminal, and even the self-enclosed smoking pods. I’m sure it was just as thrilling in JFK.

“An airport is a paradise for a nine-year-old boy,” I texted K. I always loved going to the airport for Papa’s business trips: the hustle and bustle, the equipment, the planes.

But even then, a little one can get tired and frustrated when the layover is hours long. K had a secret weapon, though:

And of course, he knew what was waiting for him on the plane — he’d been talking about it for the last two weeks:

The final text from K: we’re on board but take-off is delayed thirty minutes. For once, that’s not a problem: there’s no connection to worry about. Waiting at the other end of the flight will be her brother, ready to bundle them off to Babcia’s place.

I can only imagine Babcia’s excitement after four years.