The passport control officer responded to my cheery “Dzień dobry” with a perfectly impassive blank stare and I knew I was back. Seven days home in the curry nation and I had become accustomed to those odd quirks of British culture such as responding to greetings and occasionally smiling. Never mind, I know the score, it’s a culture thing and I even found it oddly comforting. By the way, and this is not leading to a rant I promise, I’ve discovered an ever more benighted and extreme species of official Polish rudeness than Post Office workers. Not possible? Try dropping into your local kantor (currency exchange). I’ve been in scores of these places over the years and I can wholeheartedly say that I’ve never come across a more morose, taciturn and robotic form of human being anywhere else. I’ve never experienced a ‘hello,’ a smile, a ‘thank you’ or any other kind of human communication from these people. In fact I’m not convinced I’ve ever seen one of them open their mouths at all. Perhaps they’re some kind of specially bred mute species. I tell I lie, one of them did speak to me once. He was an an absurdly orange victim of excessive solarium use and he told me that he couldn’t exchange my money because it wasn’t clean enough. My, how I laughed.
Me and the lady A went to East Grinstead, Lindfield, and Bath. I ate about four pigs worth of bacon and pork sausages in the form of English breakfasts. I bathed in fine local ales (learn to make proper beer in Poland for god’s sake!). We glided about the place in pristine trains (my god trains have improved in the UK recently), we fell in love just that little irrevocable bit more, played with nieces, hung around in ancient church yards, and generally had a fine old time.
I genuinely loath looking at other people’s holiday pictures but am completely incapable of resisting the temptation of inflicting the same thing on other people. Weird bots people.
The author seriously considering how much trouble he would be in for diving into the ancient Roman baths of Bath.
English sky, English city
A house on the Kennet and Avon Canal. I was going to buy it, until I remembered my fear of swans.
A grave in an English church yard. The inscription read “Sacred to the memory of Mr Charles Hawkins who was overtaken by the inevitable fate of mortals and released from pain and affliction on the 26th day of May 1789 aged 60 years.” Good luck to him.
A wonders why we can’t build straight buildings in England
Never fear. I will return to rock-hard social commentary soon. Yawn.
Was wondering what happened to you… I feared you had hit the dreaded writers block or run off to a blog where they show u more respect. Nice pictures. Though me wonders why you needed to show is a grave… is a distant cousin or you what?
You’re from Bath!!
I used to run past that house!!
And I lived on the Kennet and Avon canal for a year (albeit in scummy student digs, not in some nice house with a speedboat).
Did you ever go to the Rummer inn, opposite the rugby ground?
pinolona: Nope, just visiting my sister who lives there (lucky swine). By a staggering coincidence, we did go to the Rummer’s. That’s 4 hours of beer-stained happiness I’ll never see again.
Gad, back in the day when you were knee-high to a grass hopper I had a good mate at Bath Uni and went down there as often as beer money allowed. The old bus station is now a heap of rubble at the bottom of a very deep hole and… apparently there’s going to be shopping and parking … yawn…
mocha: Us mortals are all cousins, distant or otherwise. Blimey that’s profound, I should write it down…
OOOoh cool! I used to work there (for ‘work’, read ‘sit at the end of the bar and talk people into buying me drinks’). Is it still managed by a Welsh couple? Do they still serve Buttcombe (*giggles)?
Good times.
Author, we must have met somewhere in the streets of Bath!
I used to stay there quite regularly but now, due to some changes in my private life, I am not so welcome there anymore.
If you mean the same bus station I remember from four years ago – well, it is a shame, really.
I remember the museum at the end of a Georgian street where I used to go pretty often because of their cheap tea and cake. Whenever I felt a pang of hunger I headed towards their little tea room (tea house?).
Perhaps I will go to Bath again. Can you recommend a B&B at a reasonable price and in a quiet street?
J.
Jolanta: It appears that everyone who reads this has been/lived in Bath at some point!
Not surprising; it is the Krakow of England.
We stayed at the Redcar Hotel on Henrietta Street. A bit shabby around the edges, but perfectly serviceable and 5 mins from the town center on a quiet street.
So this is our dear author and his dear A. BTW, in the photo, are your feet dipped in the water?:)
And I didn’t know even buildings are gay in England hahahaha
(had to say that lol)
I’ve been giving some thought to the why Poles are generally so grim and/or rude – and I really don’t know. It’s a total mystery. There are countries and places that have had equally difficult history (and/or present) and don’t have that attitude. I think there is no excuse.
I sometimes try to smile in the street, like I used to in the UK. But it’s tiresome, when no one smiles back at you (and probably think you’re some kind of freak).
I’ve been watching that “Sexy Beijing” http://pl.youtube.com/watch?v=cvtWAXoZjTc series recently, and I noticed that even those least privileged Chinese are still cheerful and approachable. How strange!
And now some good news: I’ve never been to or lived in Bath:)
Pawel: ‘Straight’ buildings, ok I get it… took a while.
Feet not in the water. There are big signs everywhere saying ‘DO NOT TOUCH THE WATER’ which everybody immediately ignores. It’s hot and a bit stinky.
Re the ‘we’re poor and we’ve had a hard time’ excuse; I’ve never had any time for it either, it’s clearly bogus. I honestly think Poles are never happier than when things are going badly.
Never been to Bath?! Correct this gap in your education immediately.
Cool link btw.
Pinolona: Sorry for the slow reply, your comment got spam-binned for some reason.
The guy behind the bar didn’t sound Welsh, but it could have been a cunning trick I suppose.
You are being naughtily sarcastic today:)
The thing with buildings sounded funny in my head:)
What was that hot and stinky water reservoir anyway?
And is there anything interesting in Bath to educate oneself about? Is there a famous pottery or bow-tie museum?:)
The water is stinky because it has had Roman foot odour swilling around in it for 2,000 years!
Pawel: I wasn’t!! It really did take me a good five minutes to figure out what you were on about.
The pool is an original Roman bath fed from hot underground springs. That’s why Bath is called Bath.
There are a lot of interesting things in Bath, but the most important thing is that it’s just a really really nice place to be.
Wise, I had enough time (in the world) to hang out, and chill in Poland for a few day’s. It’d be nice, thou.
PG