I fancied a day out, a change of scenery from that out of the window.
It had been a stressful couple of weeks, what with one thing and
another, and to be honest I was feeling the heat (both metaphorically
as well as the 27C outside). My Beloved was of course at work, but
the kids were home to keep an eye on our four legged friends. I'd
had a couple of good rambles through my local forest in recent weeks
and didn't want to go there again, so decided to hop on the Metro and
head to the north end of the M1 line, which on Google Maps looked to
lay a couple of kilometers from both the Wisła
river and a similar forest. A different part of town, so why not? I
packed some sandwiches and a bottle of drink in my backpack, my
current read, a notebook and pen, and headed off.
I read the book on
the train, still not quite sure where I would end up, and then, as we
pulled into Świętokrzyśzka
station (about half way) did a Harry Bright and decided, quite
spontaneously, to go elsewhere, further afield. So I hopped off at
Dwórzec Gdański
station, and went to look at the departure boards at the adjoining
mainline station. If there were no suitable trains due, I could
always go back on the Metro and return to my original plan.
In the event, I had
the choice of two trains, both leaving within 10 minutes. The first
was to Modlin, but apart from the airport, a Ryanair stronghold,
there looks to be bugger all there, just another small Polish country
town. The second, leaving a couple of minutes earlier, was a PKP
Intercity service to Olsztyn. On the edge of the Mazurian lake
district, on a sizeable (but still comparatively small) lake, I had
never been there. But a mate of mine had holidayed there a couple of
times at a hotel on the lake, and had waxed lyrical to me about the
place, in particular its Old Town and lakeside harbour.
Decision made, then
- Olsztyn it is.
------------------------------------------------------------------
I tried to buy my
ticket at the machine, and queued for a couple of minutes behind a
pair of giggly schoolgirls, possibly bunking off for the day in the
good weather. They wandered off eventually and I quickly plugged in
my journey details, and waited, card in hand, for my ticket price and
payment options to come up. Instead, I got a mesage telling me PKP
were unable to calculate my fare and I should go to the Ticket Office. No time for that, so I walked briskly up onto the platform
as the guard was checking both ways to shut the doors and signal the
train could go. I waved at him and quickened my pace (not quite a
run, I don't do that) and to his credit he waited for me. I asked
him if I could buy a ticket on board and in flawless English he
agreed, so I hopped on and off we went.
I followed him
through the WARS Buffet Car to his on-board office and I bought my
ticket - one way 37zl (I had asked for a return, but it was a Lost
in Translation moment and he sold me a one way, but I didn't notice
until later) - a good bit less than I had expected. He wished me a
good day, and I headed back through the brand new train to find my
allocated window seat. The train was quite full, but I had a double
to myself and settled in to enjoy the ride. The journey was set to
take just over 2 hours to cover a couple of hundred kilometres with 5
intermediate stops.
A good part of the
route followed the main high speed line that runs up through the
Tri-Cities to Gdynia, branching off at Dzialdowo to meander through
the rolling wooded hills on the edge of Mazury, through Olsztynek, to
my final destination. Much of this final part of the ride was along
a single track line, through small villages of a handful of houses
and what may even have been request stops on the line (basically a
concrete platform with a rudimentary glass and metal shelter like a
bus-stop and no other building ), over unbarriered crossings of farm
tracks, the train's horn parping every few minutes to warn of its
approach. There had been half a dozen incidents that year where
drivers had decided to run the risk and been hit by a train, with
fatalities - Polish drivers really can be quite stupid. But this
train had no problems: indeed I saw no cars or other vehicles close
to any crossing, and indeed few signs of life anywhere, just a couple
of combine harvesters working on the far side of one field we passed,
and a tractor with a wagon load of freshly harvested grain passing
through another field a bit further along.
After Olsztynek the
view from my window became a bit more suburban and less rural, and we
were soon clearly approaching the end of the line. I had been
expecting a smallish lakeside port, with water views through the
trees and sailboats dotting the lake. Intead we came to a smallish
city, built on a continuation of the hills we had been traversing,
with apartment blocks and shopping malls and small industrial units
flanking the track, and not a sign of the three lakes that surround
the place on Google Maps.
Then we pulled into
Olsztyn Główny
station, and day's challenges started.
------------------------------------------------------------
The place was a
building site. One of the four platforms stood empty, the rest, once
we had stopped, were occupied with more intercity trains heading off
to I didn't see where, and the tunnel under them to the exit was also
blocked off for repair work. So we all had to walk across the
tracks, in front of the big diesel-electric locomotives, to leave
the station. Although there are fewer in operation these days as PKP
renews its passenger fleet, these beasts remain to me impressive
machines, and hauling a rake of the heavy, old style carriages I prefer them
to the newer EMU and Pendolino rolling stock for my rail journeys.
They may be slower and the ride much less comfortable, but they are
full of character.
In keeping with the
work going on, the Ticket Office and overcrowded Waiting Room were
housed in four interlinked portacabins, and I joined the
International Tickets queue to buy my return to Waraw: first
challenge. The middle aged lady who served me looked blank when I
asked for a ticket to Warsaw, and in my rudimentary Polish
I apologized: she pointedly ignored me and turned her
head away. Lovely.
Fortunately, a young girl at the next window noticed, and helped me
with my purchase. Not
the best introduction to the town....but
at least I could get home now.
And oddly the ticket was a little cheaper, 35zl this time. Even
combined, the total ticket price was way below my original
expectations and in my view, given the comfort and service quality of
both trains,
great value. No doubt my OAP
status helped....
Outside
the station the construction works continued onto the station
forecourt, and I looked around for bus and tram stops, but especially
for a street map: I had no idea whereabouts in town I was, and no
idea which way to go to find the lake and harbour area. A couple of
hundred yards away, beyond a sizeable roundabout, stood a McDonalds,
next door to a bus stop and across from a tram stop, but there was no
trace of a street map at the station. I wandered across to the
McDonalds, and asked a few people if they spoke English: every one of
them looked terrified, mumbled "No, I'm sorry" or something
similar and ran off in the opposite direction. At the fifth attempt,
a guy told me in halting English (admittedly better than my Polish)
that I needed to go up the hill past the station and after two bus
stops I would find the Town Hall (he called it by its German
expression: Rathaus) and I should ask again there.
It
took me probably twenty
minutes to walk to the place, past at least three bus stops, and I
walked into the Reception
area,
and again asked if anyone spoke English. A lady said she did, and I
asked her the same question: how do I get to the harbour and the
lake? She shrugged her shoulders, and said, "I no know."
And returned to her coffee and magazine. Again fortunately, someone
had overheard, this time a bloke probably close to my age, wearing
grubby blue overalls and sitting in a small room who had wandered
over to listen - whether security or simply a
slightly nosy caretaker I
have no idea. But he told me what I needed to know at least.
It
turned out the lake was a good 6km away, but I could walk straight
down the road outside, in the direction away from the station, and I
would find it. Easy. Off I went, in no particular hurry.
I was enjoying the views of
actually quite an attracive little
town. The station,
despite its name: "głowny" which
usually signifies the main
station in the town and is
normally very central, was
clearly off the beaten track, because all the shops were small units
like you see in most apartment blocks: the odd patisserie selling
bread and cakes, some kebab and pizza shacks, several chemists (the
apteka is the most common variety of retail outlet in the country by
a big margin: they are everywhere) and some cheap looking clothes and
shoe shops. None of them were from national chains and I didn't see
a single mall
of any size all day,
which is most unusual here.
I
walked for the best part of an hour, then came to a t-junction: now
then, do I go left or right? Still no street map to be seen, and
even the junction lacked a sign to tell you what was in which direction.
I came to the conclusion that Olsztyn must be a very insular place,
and everyone who lived or drove there knew exactly where they were.
Not in the least tourist friendly. I pulled out my phone and booted
up the Google Maps app - no internet connection. I looked both ways,
crossed the street and decided to turn right, on the basis that it
was downhill and therefore any water flowing nearby was likely to be
going that way, to the lake. About 100m along I came to a stream: it
crossed my path under the bridge, but appeared to be flowing the
other way.....
The
hell with it: not possible, must get new glasses, downhill is the
right way.
-----------------------------------------------------
A
kilometer later I came to another roundabout, this one with about 5
roads flowing through it and not a tram in sight (but several buses
criss-crossing it, some of which were apparently going to the
station: I made a mental note of the service numbers in case I got
lost). I crossed when the light gave me right of way, and had to jog
the second road as the lights changed back against me ridculously
quickly, given the length of the crossing, and looked around again
for a map. There was one across from me (a shorter distance and I
made it at a stroll) and close to it a small tourist information
ccentre - this is more like it! I ambled over, looking around the
little narrow lanes running away to one side, with attractive old
buildings on either side of them. The tourist place was closed and
locked, with no notice of opening hours - it was only about 1:30 and
a Thursday and still summer (although not peak season) so I was a
little surprised. Okay then, back to the map.
It
was big and colourful, and showed a network of roads and small parks
and notable buildings (the police, a museum, an art gallery), but not
a sign of a lake anywhere. I looked more closely, and tried to trace
something familiar: the You Are Here elipse that all such maps
(including the one on Google) was clearly visible, and the road
layout looked about right. But of the two roads on the map that
bracketed the You Are Here marker, neither carried the same road sign
as the ones on the actual roads - even the one I had just spent a
half hour following was missing. Most odd.
I
stood there for a moment, then thought the hell with it - keep
heading downhill (at least it's easier than walking up!) and that
little narrow street looks a bit Old Towny......
Mind
made up, I strolled away from the useless tourist map towards one of
the narrow and picturesque roads across the car park.
------------------------------------------------------------------
It
turned out to be a good choice. A narrow bridge crossed a small
stream burbling away downhill, through overhanging trees and with a
couple of ducks paddling against the current, and at the end of it
stood a small statue. It was very pretty and despite its proximity
to the bus crossing quite peacful. I looked around and saw, across
a small car park, a narrow strreeet, apparently cobbles, leading up
between two old looking buildings - very much the typical entrance to
a Polish Stary Miasto (Old Town) in any settlement larger than a
village.
The
little road ran up a sharp incline, on either side of which was a
selection of bars and restaurants with a variety of chairs and tables
and branded sun-umbrellas, and the odd souvenir shop or newsagents.
I checked some of the menus: all offered a typically tourist
selection of traditional Polish fayre (chicken or tomato soup,
pierogi dumplings with meat or cabbage or mushroom fillings, pork or
chicken cutlets fried in breadcrumbs with fries or mashed potatoes
and coleslaw), plus pizzas and an assortment of pasta dishes, ice
creams or fresh fruit for dessert, and a wide range of local beers
and soft drinks. All at reasonable prices. I was tempted, but still
had my packed lunch and really wanted to find this harbour, so I
moved on.
It
was indeed a Stary Miasto, though whether the main one or part of a
group (for want of a better description) I'm still not sure. It was
quite small, so I tend to think it was one of a number scattered
around the city. In any case, it was indeed a pretty area, perhaps
100m on a side, cobblestoned, with an imposing (but by Polish
standards small) church in the centre. More restaurants and souvenir
shops lined each side, but here were mixed with a small number of
popular clothes stores, grocery shops and the inevitable apteka. I
spotted a patisserie in some shade (the day was at its hottest, 27C
or thereabouts and not a cloud in the sky and I was feeling decidedly
sticky), so some refreshment seemed a good idea. It was: a fine cup
of vanilla latte and big slice of a beza (meringue) cake topped with
fresh fruits and whipped cream cost me 20zl (about four quid) -
excellent value and delicious.
My
Beloved called (as does regularly every day) and was a tad gobsmacked
to find me in Olsztyn rather than at home looking after the animals -
but happy that I was having fun. She also suggested I called a close
friend of hers who comes from the town if I needed any help....so, as
I was a bit lost, I did that. Ania (the friend) was, bless her, a bit
flustered because her English is not fluent (but much better than
anyone else in Olsztyn, at least on the day I was there), and once we
had figured out where I was, gave me directions to the nearest couple
of lakes, between which is a station where I could catch my train
home without hiking all the way back to the Głowny terminus. Happy
days! Armed with the sms she sent me with the directions, off I went
again.
--------------------------------------------------------------
It
took me perhaps 10 minutes to get lost. This was nothing whatever to
do with Ania's directions, but simply down to my own incompetence.
I
had to leave the square by the way I had arrived (simple), past the
little bridge and across the road onto the one I had come down
originally (equally simple), then follow it downhill for about a
kilometer and under a railway bridge by a busy road (straightforward).
To my right and across the street was a station: I assumed the one
Ania had told me about. I went to look, but the station name was not Olsztyn Zachodny (West) but something else. I retraced my steps,
turned right under the bridge and followed the tracks looking for the
correct one, through an estsate of newish looking apartment blocks.
At the end, close to another railway bridge, I caught a glimpse of
water.
It
was indeed a lake, and a big one too, with a water sports centre,
squash and tennis courts and a small jetty for sailing boats. On the
water perhaps a dozen of these were scudding along on the gentle
breeze, while a similar number of jet skis and windsurfers enjoyed
themselves more dangerously. Backing onto the entrance a flight of
steps led up to another small railway station - but this one wasn't
Olsztyn Zachodny either. Now I was really lost....
Ania
had told me the lake was close to Zachodny station, and I would see
it on the left hand side as I came into town on the train. But here,
the lake was on the right hand side. It was small lake, she had said,
and this one was certainly not that - it must have been a good couple
of kilometers to its furthest extremity, maybe a bit more.
So
back towards town again, back through the apartment blocks to the
main road, and back to the first station I had seen but from the
other side. Slap forehead time: it was indeed Zachodny (I had read
the wrong sign before - doh!). Good - now I know where I am...where
is the lake. I still couldn't see anything, so as the platforms were
elevated at the top of a high bank I climbed up steps to look from the better
vantage point they offered. And there, no more than a couple of
hundred meters away, through a clump of trees (that provided cover at
ground level) was a small, long and narrow lake, on the left hand
side as you head into town, visible from the train, clearly. Bingo.
I
had to go through a grubby underpass, littered with empty cans and
sweet wrappers and things that looked decidedly unsavoury (but at
least not smelling of stale piss, as so many underpasses do all over
the world) and then across a poorly maintained road to get to the lake.
It was pleasant enough, and much smaller and quieter. A new looking
tarmac path followed the lakeshore, which was quite steep with only a
few flat sandy areas to access the water, and covered with thick reed
beds and assorted bushes. Every hundred meters or so, on alternate
sides of the path, there were iron and wood-slat bench seats, each
with an trash can adjoining it - in contrast to the underpass there
was very little litter anywhere.
I
walked around most of the lake, and saw many middle aged and elderly
couples yomping along with Nordic walking poles, and the odd cyclist
or two in the usual flourescent lycra shirts, tights and colourful
helmets bombing along, doing their daily exercise. On many benches
younger people were sunbathimg, reading or Facebooking on their
mobiles with little real conversation (this seems to be normal
everywhere nowadays, sadly), and on a couple of the sand banks ladies
with young children were picnicking. I found a deserted bench in some
shade, stripped my shirt off to cool down a bit, and munched my
sandwiches, then, feet up, read my book for an hour or so. All was
quiet and peaceful, despite the proximity of a railway line and busy
road, and I felt very content.
------------------------------------------------------------------
I
spent a nice couple of hours there, just chilling out and reading and
watching the world go by, then ambled up to Zachodny - I had a good
couple of hours before the train was due, but the sun was going down
quite quick;ly now and the temperature dropping. The station was
more or less deserted, perhaps half a dozen people, and there was no
waiting room, so I had no option but to go for another mooch around the
neighbourhood. I didn't really know whereabouts I was, except that
it was a good six kilometers, maybe more, from Olsztyn Glowny, all of
them uphill, and the idea of hauling all that way to catch a train
that was scheduled to stop here 5 minutes after its departure made no
sense. I knew nothing of this part of town at all: it was clearly
mainly residential (not a factory or warehouse in sight), so I felt
somewhere close by there should be at the very least a supermarket
where I could get some food (mine was all gone).
I
turned left leaving the station, for no particular reason than that
it was downhill, and ambled off. There was not much to see: a big
church across the street and about 50m down the only building that
wasn't an apartment block. The road curved right beside the church,
and when I got there I saw it ran over a bridge, I assumed over trhe
stream I had crossed earlier in the day and at a higher elevation.
Just to my left there was a weir and the water rushed through in a
white-water torrent, flowing quickly through a small park with swings
and roundabouts under the surrounding trees. On the bank of the
stream, where a right turn slowed the water's flow, stood a watermill
on the side of what looked like a re-furbished factory. More to the
point, above the river bend, overhanging the water, was a terrace
holding some tables, chairs and the ubiquitous branded umbrellas. A
bar.
When
I got there, I settled at a table right by the water's edge, and
checked the menu. There was not a lot of choice, at least as far as
food was concerned, but the place was a micro-brewery and boasted an
array of half a dozen of its own potions alongside the locally brewed
(but nationally popular) Łomża
and the ever populat Tyskie and Lech beers. I had just under an hour
to kill, so settled for a big glass of the brewery's own IPA - and
very nice it was too.
Then
back to the station in the gathering darkness. By the time the train
came in, another brand new EMU, it was pitch dark. When it stopped
the door closest to me was the entrance to the WARS restaurant car -
very convenient. I'd walked through these Polsh institutions many
times over the years and they always seemed to be crowded so had
never used them. One stop into its journey, this one was empty, so I
decided to give it a try. A favourite travel YouTuber had recently
posted a 50,000 Subscriber Q&A in which he stated WARS were his
favourite on-board caterers (this from a seasoned traveller who had
sampled train catering all over the world - Amtrak, Eurostar,
Deutsche Bahn - you name it - so should know what he's talking about) - as good a recommendation as any.
I
settled in with a litre bottle of Łomża
and a Family Pack of Lay's salted ridged crisps, dug out my book - as
it was pitch dark there was nothing to see outside - to enjoy the two
hour ride. Another couple of passengers joined me at separate
tables, but it was very quiet and relaxing. I enjoyed it, and
decided whenever I next take a long-distance train ride in Poland I will
do likewise and sample the WARS cooked meu (which looks rather
excellent and well priced).
------------------------------------------------------------
As
the train pulled into Warszawa Gdanski station, bang on time, a
twenty minute Metro ride from home, I reflected with satisfaction on
a good day. Sure, I never did find the Olsztyn city centre and its
apparently picturesque harbour area, but that gives me an excuse to
make a return journey. What I saw of the place has whetted my appetite nicely.
