 Last minute trip to Przemysl. I believe the hardest part of any weekend is deciding to get in the car or hop on a train, as opposed to just hanging low and staying home. To say there have been instances over the years where a trip has been canceled last minute, is an understatement. Truly, I can count the number of times I decided to not fly off to a foreign country or drive across state lines for an experience.
I do know one cancellation was due to writing reasons. True story - I was supposed to fly to Latvia for a five day vacation, exploring Riga and some outlying cities. There was a breakup with my long distance girlfriend back in the USA which added to the equation. And yet, part of me really wanted to visit Riga. I had the perfect hotel next to a park that I knew would be ideal for running. I also knew the ambiance with winter in full force would be a good motivator for the writing mood I wanted to embrace. School vacation began and I went home to my apartment in Casale. My flights weren’t until Monday so I had the weekend to just chill. After an amazing long run along the Adriatic coast, I settled in for three hours of writing. Before I knew it three hours became five. I think I wrote close to 5000 words on Saturday for Valo, the third book in the Luza series. Then Sunday came and after a morning writing session I was close to 8500 words. Then it hit me, could I continue the same momentum in Riga or was it going to jar me completely? Talk about a dilemma. Always one to be very firm on limiting distractions, I next deleted my Facebook account and then I made sure the demise of my relationship was finalized. I think I shut off my phone to add to the cocoon effect, not necessarily to increase the drama ten-fold. Sunday evening came and I was in a groove. I was over 13,000 words at this point and torn. You won’t be shocked to learn that in the evening I canceled my hotel and just ate the plane tickets to Riga. Thankfully, Ryanair tickets were not some economic hardship. Sure, $45 is $45, but how many of you burn that on a Sunday brunch? The hotel was another matter. They gave me a partial refund, but I was willing to conceptualize the cost as a donation to the hotel. Good mentality, right? I even went so far as to rationalize that I was paying myself to stay home for the week. Instead of exploring the historic old town of Riga, I dove into the shape shifting and teenage drama of Valo. Aside from My Shenandoah Love, I think this was the fastest first draft written to date. By the end of vacation the novel was complete and I was prepping the final part, Lane. Last year this happened again, not the writing part, but shifting gears last minute. I was supposed to go to Montenegro for five days, but felt worn out and for that matter ill. I had come down with a cold and decided the entire exercise of flying and then driving to the Montenegro coast was not going to be ideal in this late February weather. I committed myself to staying home - again to eat the costs of canceling my trip at the last minute. This time though I woke up on Sunday morning, feeling substantially better. Maybe it was also a relief that I didn’t have to cram onto another plane. By the afternoon, relief became remorse and then my travel bug bit me again as my body felt more recovered. I told myself if I was feeling even better come Monday morning, I would catch a train to Lublin. This was a part of Poland I had yet to visit. On the fly, I decided it would be a two day trip and then we were going to add Chełm as a random third night. Lublin was amazing for me. The weather was wicked - rain and wind made life interesting. The Georgian food was mediocre, but I found the best pizza to date in Poland. I also discovered a street lined with wedding dress shops that rivaled Bialystok. More importantly, I retraced parts of the Jewish experience from the Jewish gate to the old town, onto the old and new cemeteries and onwards to the train tracks where they met their unfortunate demise. I had intentions to carry on to Chełm, but again at the last minute, the morning of, I canceled and went back to Krakow. It was a bit of a detour with six hours of travel, but I wanted to be in my bed for the night. Another day of recovery ensued. True to form, I thought that would be it for the week and I would be staying home, a true staycation for the remainder of my winter vacation. I was, after all, still paying for the Montenegro trip. But when my buddy reached out saying he was flying into Warsaw and then heading onto Ukraine, I felt pulled to catch up in person and help in whatever way I could to get him across the border. We decided Thursday morning about a Friday meetup. I didn’t know what was going to happen, save I had to hop on an early train to Warsaw. I was out of sorts, doing everything spur of the moment, where the train I booked happened to be the Warsaw to Krakow one. Unbeknownst to me, I arrived at 04:00 to the train station and then caught my mistake. Not only did I pay for a ticket I couldn’t use, the bloody train was heading south, not north which just added salt to the wounds. With the rain coming down in buckets, I was at a loss as to whether to return to my apartment or to buy the next ticket to Poland’s capital city. The first train to depart was at 06:15. I didn’t want to just sit and wait with the other travelers in the train station. They were sprawled out on benches and chairs in one big slumber party that was not inviting to say the least. Even with the rain in force, I turned on my video camera and filmed a vlog on what it was like at four in the morning in historic Krakow. I walked from the station to the Rynek and onwards to the river. Even with the crazy drunks making more noise than one would think possible, I made the best of the situation, despite the elements and the fact I knew I just paid another $40 for the correct train ride. Fast forward to meeting up with my friend and another adventure began that entailed a Bla Bla car ride and a late night arrival to a hostel in Lviv, Ukraine. I couldn’t have planned this trip in advance had I tried. And yet, by being flexible and present, this was one of the most entertaining and rewarding weeks that I can remember. It wasn’t just traveling to new places, but listening to where I felt I was better served and needed. I know if I had gone to Montenegro there would have been no meetup and trip to Ukraine. Furthermore, the warm memories I got from Lublin would be nothing but dreams and possibilities. Both trips, the Riga one that left me home in Italy focused on my latest book and this menagerie of cities and countries at the end of February while living in Poland, left lasting impressions. This trip flip flopping continues here in Maine. Even last weekend the trip to Lubec was almost an afterthought. I’m still glad I went even though it was underwhelming. I'm thankful I booked the room for last weekend as opposed to this Saturday. With twenty inches of fresh snow, I would have eaten another non refundable fare and all because I couldn’t check the ten day forecast. I’m curious, are you a trip flip flopper? Do you cancel plans at the last minute to stay home or do you go out regardless even if you don’t feel up to doing so?
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 I am always fascinated by how an overnight trip can open one’s eyes to life and what we deem important. In this case, my overnight trip was back to Lubec where I went camping last summer. To say the area is different in the winter and early spring would be more than an understatement. This isn’t a place booming with activity to begin with. Once the warmer weather is taken out of the picture, even the fishermen disappear and what remains active in this small community on the Canadian border is minimal at best. IGA, the local grocery store, is still a mainstay, but aside from getting water views and ambiance, there isn’t much to do or see. Granted, I knew this in advance but I was cautiously optimistic that my hotel, a converted sardine factory, was going to break the trend and provide the same service it does in the summer months, on this Saint Patrick’s Holiday weekend. To begin, this isn’t meant to be a bashing piece. If anything, it’s simply to remind myself and others of the reality we find ourselves in. Or maybe it’s just a reminder on how you need to do better research before undertaking any overnight journey. With a significant amount of international travel now under my belt, I’m always looking for a deal. For that matter, I want a decent experience not only with where I stay, but what I eat, and bonus if the running is good. It was one thing to rent an apartment for one night in Poznan, Poland where I spent under forty dollars for a one bedroom with beautiful views and then jet off to Warsaw the next day for an almost eighty dollar a night room in the center of the city. I understand that Lubec is not a metropolitan center, but don’t let that confuse you on the prices. Seriously, while the rooms are cheaper in the off season ($110+) compared to their summer rate, you more than make up your travel budget in gas and food. I would compare it to taking a cheap Ryanair flight into Paris and then being hosed on the hotel room. You are going to pay one way or another. Still, during the pandemic when I first stayed in Lubec this wasn’t the case. I don’t remember flinching at the food prices or even the hotel where I stayed for a very reasonable price for two nights. On this trip, I wasn’t even in the main building. Strike number one. I should have known better when I was booking, but I didn’t process that the suites were next door in some glorified waterfront homes. Advertised as sound proof and with private decks, neither were true in this scenario. Strike number two. Granted, it’s March, but the deck bare of all furniture made me retreat through my sliding door into a room that was almost maxed out by the king-size bed. I didn’t care that much as I was happy with the water view. If you want to see nature at its best, this is one of those spots where you can just sit and watch the tides come in and out. And yet, with the deck furniture missing, I immediately noticed little things that I expected would have been handled in this “newer” part of their facility. The bathroom sink wouldn’t drain for one. Thank goodness for the shower, right? Seriously, I brushed my teeth while the water was pounding down on me, because it made no sense to watch the water level rise, simply for a few seconds of cleaning the toothbrush. Spoiled by Poland, Jersey, Malta, and other places, I was a bit baffled by the lonely coffee pot with no tea or coffee options. Thanks for the creamer, but where’s an assortment to choose from? This simple addition so common in Poland adds greatly to a weary traveler, especially after a four hour plus drive. Despite the lack of tea, the sink, and the bare deck, I walked over to the hotel anxious to grab some food. I even teased my mother that I would be getting lobster Benedict for breakfast and some lobster stew for lunch. The hundreds of lobster pots on the dock, the stacked chairs, and the lack of cars, made it clear I blew this trip. Not to mention, the fact the management of the hotel called me en route to say the key would be waiting for me in the room, should have been a tell tale sign. Knowing now that there was no physical interaction, I really should have known better. Strike three, four, whatever - this was not going to be a smooth voyage. With the restaurant closed and no other options in Lubec, I either had to go to IGA for some glorified microwavable meals and pay five dollars for an ice cream sandwich (no joke) or venture another forty-five minutes to Eastport for whatever food choices were open in that cosmopolitan center. I’m exaggerating on that one by ten fold, but it is still considered a city, the easternmost one at that. Retreating to my car, we made the journey and I did my best to remain upbeat. Who cares if it meant another 90 minutes of driving and that the restaurants were only open in Eastport from 2pm - 6pm during this slower season. The Happy Crab was the lucky winner of my hungry stomach and also more than eager to take as much money from me as possible. I don’t know if it’s inflation or the fact Eastpost is the final American outpost before you hit Canada, but $46 for six chicken wings, clams, and one adult beverage makes me shudder even now. My lunch was more expensive than three of my stays in Poland. As for food cost, even in Szczecin where I splurged at the Colorado Steakhouse, I still only spent $23 for their wings, a pasta dish, and winter tea. Something is wrong with this picture… truly. Perhaps that’s a greater topic for another day. After digesting my meal, I made the most of my time in Eastport, filmed a vlog, met a pack of deer, and then returned to my waiting room in Lubec. That’s when it truly struck me how this trip was simply a waste of space and time. I loved being able to see the water, but when I saw that the only cars on this isolated and quiet street were in front of the house, the very house I would be staying in, I knew this night was going to be a long one. Outside - absolutely serene. Inside - every single step from the monsters above me could be heard. Dragging furniture, sliding out chairs, just walking, made this introvert cringe and pine for his cottage in central Maine. The light was on in the adjacent room and of course what was likely a regular conversation boomed through the walls, that or the television. To say it was quieter outside is the truth. I wished for warmer weather, to sit on the deck and not feel trapped inside my rented quarters. That’s when it struck me, I drove four plus hours one way simply to go for a run. The peacefulness, the serenity of being on the water, all of it was destroyed by the thunderous steps down the stairs. Instead of making the best of it, I fixated on the cost of the trip, and how I could have been happier with a weekend at home. This was only magnified at 4:40 this morning with a conversation bleeding through the wall and stairwell clanging that served better than any alarm. With the rain washing away my metaphorical tears and cleansing my soul, I fought the morning storm and ran along this border post community, wondering if this run would be my last in this area. Even now, another five hour drive in the books, I think it’s safe to say there won’t be any new trips to that area for the foreseeable future. It might be rash to say, perhaps never again will I visit Lubec or Eastport, especially since I know New Brunswick is right across the bridge and a bit cheaper for comparison sake. For that matter with the ever increasing prices of hotels and food even in central and northern Maine, this adventuring spirit thinks you get more return on your investment saving up and going over to central Europe. At least there I can feel like my money is going farther, even if I had to fork over $450 - $600 for a plane ticket in those non tourist months. What do you think? Is it better to explore new places in your country or get out of Dodge completely?  The Poland trip has come and gone. Talk about a whirlwind experience. Over the course of six days I found myself on trains, buses, taxis, and planes. I don’t think I have ever done so much hopping around simply to experience more of a country. Perhaps it was a preview of my planned 2024 summer experiences, a lofty cross country adventure in the USA. While that might be worth a paragraph or two, this is a story for another day when Poland is no longer fresh on my mind and hours of editing that deem my attention have passed. Instead, I am taking a breather in between a series of vlogs that take us from Toruń to Sopot, Gdańsk, Szczecin, Poznań, and Warsaw. Some are familiar places, while others are unknowns, but ones I had put on my list last year while living in Krakow. At the time, I vowed to visit the top ten Polish cities in size. After this ambitious trip, only two cities remain that I have not visited or crossed over – Wrocław and Łódź. There’s always a future trip, especially as I hear the eastern border whispering my name and parts of Silesia motioning me to come closer. Whenever you travel somewhere there are always some places we naturally gravitate towards. In Poland, while I have spent a good portion of time in the tri-city area as well as Warsaw, there are other spots that have left lasting impressions. I am remiss to leave out the cities of Lublin, Białystok, and Przemyśl. The first two have lasting legacies from Russian expansion and the German invasion from World War 2. Until I walked those streets and got glimpses into the past, I wouldn’t have known or appreciated either place. Lublin is more than just the old town or their stargate. I can still hear the guitar playing near the Jewish gate and can see the ominous lights from Lublin Castle when I sought out the old and new Jewish cemeteries. Wanting to get a glimpse of what my doctor friend saw in his youth, it was haunting to see the razed cemetery and what remained of the Jewish legacy in this city. The unforgiving wind made the trek to the railroad depot and the warehouses a grueling journey, but I appreciated those steps even more when I found the lasting monument. To be reminded of the sheer number of people who walked those same paths, who faced uncertain death, and did so with dignity, is something I will never forget. Białystok’s tale is yet more of the same. With the Sybir Memorial Museum and the soul-stirring railroad tracks, we get to experience a different fate. I don’t know what was worse, the German concentration camps or the journey to Siberia that many faced over several hundred years. The museum drove home this bit of history that is often overlooked in the West, that of Polish citizens being deported, kidnapped, or simply forced from their homes and put in exile. Certainly there is more to these two cities than bits of history, but it helps define the area and puts in perspective the churches, the buildings, the garden plots, and everything one sees. Przemyśl is significantly smaller, and yet it ties in well with both places. The legacy of World War 2 lingers, being divided up by Germany and the Soviet Union where some residents were deported to Siberia and others were handed over to Nazis for their uncertain fates. I still see the monument to Katyn and the pedestrian bridge where Dr. Subczynski would say, “Soldiers from both sides did Satan’s bidding.” All three places had a profound impact on my travels. Of course, I could have visited all three again on this most recent trip. And yet I wanted to see more of Poland and experience different streets, places, and food. My hope in the weeks and months ahead, after publishing my vlogs to the cities listed in the beginning, are that new memories develop and new stories worth sharing find their words here for all to see. We all know that every place has a tale or two that many can appreciate. The hardest part is sussing out the details and finding the emotional connection that leaves a lasting impression.  |
Meet Mr. Jon- a traveler at heart who loves a good story and walk. Jonathan has over twenty years experience in independent publishing. While he prides himself on crafting a good story, nothing truly beats an adventure and a camera. Archives
January 2025
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