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travel

Ten Miles

I’ve often mentioned how we tend to repeat things during our visits to Poland. The island in Slovakia that we visited yesterday--countless times. The castle we might head to tomorrow if weather turns bad--many, many visits. The line park in Zubrzyca Gorna--who knows! In some cases, like the line park, it’s just because we like it. Or rather, our kids like it. Sometimes it’s because of taking various visitors to certain sites. And sometimes, it’s just because we think it might be good for our kids to experience it once again at an older age.

Today’s adventures included all the above.

We went back to Dolina Chochołowska, a valley that runs through the Polish Tatras just at the border of Slovakia. It’s a place where you can see some incredible views, soak your feet in some frigid mountain water, and get enough exercise to exhaust almost anyone.

In short, we did ten miles today. The “we” consisted of two grown men, two five-year-olds, an eight-year-old, and a ten-year-old. The two youngest trekkers made the vast majority of the trip on their own. E rode one my shoulders for perhaps half a mile, maybe a little less, perhaps a bit more. But the vast majority of it, his little five-year-old, short legs carried him. Willingly. Without fussing.

The Girl was a fussing mess the last time we hiked Dolina Chochołowska four years ago. Today, the only worries came when, during a break, she slipped off the rocks where she was playing and got her shoes wet. But even that was only a momentary set-back. She took her socks off and continued the rest of the way (probably four more miles) in wet sneakers with very little complaining.

As usual, click on the pictures for a larger version:

Rematch

The Girl didn't make it the first time around. She reached the penultimate obstacle -- an incredibly long zip line -- and she quit. Did she reach her limit or did she give up? I don't really know, given today.

This afternoon, we headed back to the same location, and I put on my tennis shoes and tackled the same course with her.

I think it's the most fun I've had with my daughter in years.

To begin with, she was incredibly helpful. With each obstacle, she explained what was challenging about it and how things went the last time.

"Daddy, this one is really hard -- you might want to use the zip line like I do." I refused, and within a few moments, thought, "That young lady had a good idea after all." The two obstacles that she suggested this for were so muscle-screamingly exhausting that I realized if there were more like that, I might not make it myself.

At the end of each obstacle, she was there to offer a hand.

"I'll hold this last one for you, Daddy, to keep it still."

More importantly, though, she was a different young lady. I don't know if it was my presence or the fact that she was tackling the course for the second time, but she was incredibly confident. The portions of the course that gave her so much pause last time warranted only a quick caution and explanation.

A few hugs along the way helped as well, I'm sure.

No photos -- for the first time, the camera stayed in the car the whole afternoon -- but a friend shot some footage for later use.

What did I use the camera for, though? The jarmark, of course.

LOT Dzień Pieszego Pasażera

There's a funny scene in Miś, my favorite Polish film, in which a broken down tram line turns into an occasion for entertainment -- literally. A program of singing and such prepared before the breakdown in the event of a breakdown.

https://youtu.be/fVERhThxypY?t=5184

It was, I think, a parody of the ruling party's ability to turn anything into a "celebration." That continues today, I think, with Miś-like similarities. When K left yesterday, there was a band, priests, politicians, news reporters, photographers, various people in formal dress, all for the occasion of K's flight's departure. The first direct flight from Krakow to Chicago in some time -- maybe ever. I don't really know. It doesn't really matter. What matters is that it was a big deal for some people.

While waiting in line to check in, K was interviewed. "Watch the news," she told her mother later, "I might be there."

What an occasion!

Except that the departure was delayed over an hour. And that deal cost K (and her traveling companion, U) their connection in Chicago. Which meant a wait over almost eighteen-hours for the next flight.

"See?! I told you guys not to fly LOT," proclaimed B. perhaps she's right.

A Few Days Off

There are times when there's just no way I could update our online story even if I wanted to. Not enough hours in the day. And sometimes, those days stack up, and the back story stacks up, and so the pictures will have to give the details.

Friday in Jablonka

K’s stay is coming to an end. On Monday, she flies back to the States with U, her best friend’s daughter, and we stick around for another three weeks. Today, though, was her last full day here in Jablonka, and as usual, she tried to accomplish a million and one things.

Lunch was easy — a trip to what was fifteen years ago the only real restaurant in Jablonka. Then a short visit to the appliance shop down the street.

Zab 2017

It must be a late-June/early-July weather acclimation thing. Or maybe it's halny. Or maybe -- likely -- it's just coincidence. At any rate, it's late June, and we're in Poland, so that means we head to Babcia's ancestral village, Zab.

In 2008, it was July 9.

Tooth

In 2010, it was June 28.

Ząb

In 2013, it was July 1.

Visiting Ząb

In 2015, it was June 28.

Ząb 2015

And in 2017, it was June 29.

Out of our five visits, then, there's one outlier, and only by a week. Whatever the coincidence, it's always an enjoyable highlight of the visit to Poland. But the day didn't quite start out as auspiciously as it ended. It began like you might expect a day in the village to begin: with a lot of work.

When we arrived last night, we discovered that Babcia had taken delivery of enough kindling for, as she explained, three or four years. And at least a quarter of it was lying in the road because the tractor that delivered it couldn't maneuver any closer. So we got to work segregating and hauling various pieces of wood from a woodworking shop, wood of so many sizes and shapes that it was almost overwhelming. This morning, we got to work cleaning up the final bits.

(Click on images for larger view.)

We all pitched in. E was in heaven, for he loves doing anything work related. L has always been less excited about work, but she helped like the rest of us with no fussing, no concerns but one: "What will Babcia the next time she gets wood and we're not here?" Growing up in more ways than one, that girl.

(Click on images for larger view.)

The trip to Zab itself was as it always is. We stop by the most beautiful cemetery in the world to clean up Babcia's mother's and father's grave and pay our respect, head to her sister's house for incredible cooking and even more amazing conversation, walk across the street to her brother's house for a second helping of everything, and end at Furmanowa, where one can undoubtedly find the best views in Poland.

(Click on images for larger view.)

There's nothing more to say because I've already said it several times over, and therein lies the perfection.

Nowy Targ Day

Changes are everywhere in Poland. It's like not seeing your friend's child for two years and then being surprised at how much bigger she is (which is a common occurence during each visit here, for both us and our local friends).

Nowy Targ, for example, was not a city that would immediately come to mind as an answer to the question, "Where is the nearest nice park?" I went there a lot while I lived here, as it was the nearest city and another American lived there with whom I became good friends. If I wanted to get contact solution, I had to go to Nowy Targ. If I wanted to speak English without worrying about what vocabulary I was using, I had to go to Nowy Targ. If I wanted to watch a movie or eat in a restaurant, I had to go to Nowy Targ. If I wanted to commiserate with someone about this or that apparent Polish absurdity (I complained a lot in my twenties. I still do, but not nearly as much...), I had to go to Nowy Targ. But it was not a place that would make sense to say, "Hey, let's take the kids to that great park in Nowy Targ." And now it is.

A lovely park with pedal-cart rentals for the kids, nice benches for tired adults, workout-stations for more energetic adults, giant chess boards for chess lovers, shade, sunshine, flowers, trees -- just about everything a little park in a little city might need.

Later, talking to a friend, I mentioned that I don't remember it being there at all.

"That's because it wasn't, at least nothing worth mentioning." But thanks to some European Union funding (I'm guessing here, but it's a likely source), there's a nice park by the river just beside the ice rink in Nowy Targ. Who would have thought?

But even twenty years ago, Nowy Targ had the best ice cream on the planet. And they had a market square, but without the fountains for kids to play with and all the open spaces. Just a big parking lot, more or less. EU funding again? Most likely.

The main purpose of the NT trip was to see C, with whom I played more pool and watched more movies and chatted more hours than just about anyone in Poland -- certainly during the 1996-1999 stint.

But more on that later...

Odpust

Overcoming

"I did give up."

The Girl was upset with ourself for not having completed the line course she had begged -- absolutely begged -- to complete. The longest. The most challenging.

K tried to talk her out of it, and the whole time the Girl was on the course, she was like this:

Of course there was no real risk: tourists are secured at all times on a security line with not one but two safety ropes. Still, both the Girl and her mother were somewhat frightened by the whole thing. And then there was the exhaustion: K tried this course some years ago and was unable to complete it. Her arms and hands gave out. She was hesitant to continue after the first obstacle, but went on anyway. L had exactly the same experience. Then came an especially challenging rope section, and K's arms just gave out. But L kept on going, with much encouragement.

The last two obstacles seemed hardly to be obstacles to me: two long zip lines. And it was there that the Girl just gave out.

Afterward, the conversation: I tried to express how proud I was of her, how proud she should be of herself, that she completed so much of the course.

"You wanted to stop, but you didn't. You kept going, when you were tired, when you were scared. You didn't give up."

"I did give up."

Can you give up and not give up at the same time? I think so.

Somehow the Girl exposed a truth about giving up and going on. It's a step-by-step basis. It's a step-by-step battle. And every step that overcomes fear or exhaustion is itself a victory.

The Boy had his own adventures.

Celebrating Babcia

Calls wishing all the best and visitors throughout the day.