 I’m home, enjoying the last vestiges of spring vacation. While I’ve been stuck here the entire time, unable to travel, it doesn’t mean I wasn’t doing so in spirit. Editing my traveling memoir, Forever Poland, from when I lived in Kraków allowed for some existential travel, or at least memories of trips gone by, places I’ve seen, and food I tried. To that end, with Poland on my mind, here are some places in no particular order that you might want to check out sooner than later. 5 Places in Poland That May Surprise YouBolko Island - Some people head to Opole for the music festival, others to see the official greeters of the city, the llama gang, and aside from steering you away from one restaurant where the chef will mess up your meal and insist you eat it or a pizza venue with questionable drinks, I’ve decided to share with you a better place to see and experience when you visit. Bolko Island should be front and center. Sure, there is a zoo there, and I’m sure it’s wonderful. Instead, walk the trails, the grounds, find yourself on the point where the Oder reconnects, and take in the peace, the stillness of it all, and maybe make a deer friend in the process. Go in the early morning before everyone is stirring, and if you insist on going in warmer weather, at least check whether the marina restaurant is open so you can get something to wet your lips.
Rybnik Riverwalk - This is a fun one, only because I’m not quite sure what you’ll find now on your side quest out of the rynek and towards the overflow waters of the power plant. If you’re lucky, the culling did little to eradicate the cute inhabitants illegally taking up the water’s edge. You’ll see more nutria than you can count and might even feel guilty enough to stop in McDonald’s en route to grab them some proper grub, a pittance if you will, for the town trying to run them off, and yet still capitalize on the fanfare. Then again, should the nutria still be in hiding, head to the warm water, the reservoir, for a good sit on the banks. Take a bike if you need to, but enjoy the breeze and watch The Simpsons play out before you, or see if you can find a carp to grant you a wish. Either way, this place is worth more than five minutes. Lublin Jewish Cemetery and the Railroad Memorial - I know we’re hitting all the loud spots in the country, and by adding these two numbers, I’m taking out the fun and putting in the gravitas. Seriously, though, look up the cemetery and see what you find. This beautiful, reflective spot is right next to the Roman Catholic Parish of Our Lady Help of Christians. Talk about a mouthful, but that’s your marker to go to this Salesian-run church and then step over to the gate with the distinct Star of David. I don’t think you’ll be as lucky as I to find the gate unlocked with a group of future rabbis leaving prayers to those who have passed, but it’s still worth the time, even if you have to run down the street to pick up the key to get into this sanctuary that will connect the past with the present. For those who want to pay their respects to the original Jewish founders in the Lublin community, or to better understand how this place survived German occupation, it’s something that will leave you in silence. A fitting pairing is then the long walk following a similar route to what the Jewish families followed along Turystyczna to Zimna, where the memorial lies, giving you perspective on Germany’s Final Solution and how it impacted this entire region. I would suggest a tour of Majdanek as well, but after the first two, you’ll be ready for a pint or two at the Irish bar in the old square, and rightfully so. Elvis Presley Memorial Statue in Kraków - Okay, so maybe you aren’t a fan of the King of Rock and Roll, and for that, I apologize for your uncultured upbringing. Putting that aside, if you know of Elvis and want to find a unique monument or really monuments to him, then head to Skałki Twardowski City Park, or as I say, the trails around the limestone quarry. Ignore the rock climbers, the cyclists, and the mom’s club out for their morning chat. You’ll find Elvis across from the Polish garden homes with his face half-submerged in stone, but with a head full of hair for you to pose next to. If that’s not enough for you, walk down the opposite trail and find the headstone with his nameplate. You might be a bit underwhelmed, but it’s worth a story or two. Talk about a fitting tribute for a King. Tatar Mound in Przemyśl - Maybe this one is a cop-out. Honestly, if you’re in Przemyśl and have any sense or love of churches, then you’ll spend the entire day going in and out of every single one in the old town area. Then again, maybe you can’t appreciate Baroque Franciscan churches, cathedrals, Orthodox, or Ukrainian-Greek houses of worship. Assuming this isn’t your cup of tea, and maybe you could give two hoots of the World War I cemeteries or Przemyśl Fortress, then Tatar Mound is the place to see. Yeah, we know about the mounds in Kraków, but this is better because it offers unobstructed 360-degree panoramic views of the city and the Carpathian Mountains. Head up Zniesienie Hill, wave at the giant cross or the radio tower, and then will yourself to this ancient burial site. Rain or shine, it has the best views in southern Poland.
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Writing Plans and a Week of Stillness A well deserved break from Tom and his antics... The first day at home, and already I’m letting my mind wander about what writing projects I should take on. Then again, I could be traveling if only I weren’t waiting to pick up my passport. Not to mention, I’m eating a plane ticket or two, so even exploring Morocco is likely out of the question. Note to self, next time you need a visa for a future trip, apply when you aren’t in the middle of your traveling season. That aside, with events beyond my control, I’m looking at a week hanging out on my couch and lounge chair. Rightfully so, with Forever Poland now complete, I’ll be digging into a new fiction piece. Dare I say, a cozy mystery? Don’t worry, more details to follow in the weeks ahead on that fun number. I will share that I have the treatment done, outline, character, and location descriptions. It’s simply a matter of sitting down and letting the characters share their stories. In the meantime, before that occurs, let me share some random musings that crossed my mind for better or worse over the last few days. Let’s try not to hold all my opinions against me, but rather as food for thought or commentary. Observations from the Streets to the World Stage 1. Unsurprisingly, I almost got hit by several road bikes and a car yesterday that decided me being in the crosswalk, directly in their path, wasn’t a good enough reason to stop. Yes, I actually slapped the back side of one car and decided I’m actually an American who has two fingers for communication purposes. No one stopped or cared. One of these days, I’m going to find another dead person lying in the middle of the road, and it will likely be from that fellow or another driver, clearly. 2. Quick question - How does waving at me while I’m in the crosswalk, as you swerve by, dangerously, may I add, make everything better? I’m asking for a friend. What does this wave actually mean? Is it a peace sign or a forgive me for being a schmuck? I really don’t know. 3. I’m thankful Ramadan is over, which means I can actually go to the bank during regular hours. I still don’t understand how it works exactly, where the banks’ normal hours went from 8 in the morning to 7 at night, to basically, some time after 9 and whenever they decide to close the doors, around 3:30. Granted it could have been worse, the bank next door to mine, had Ramadan hours from 12:15 to 2:15. That’s helpful for people that actually work during the day. Did I mention, I’m relieved? 4. On a similar note, while the bank was living their perfect working dream hours, every morning well before sunrise and even before I woke, that little drummer boy, or man, can go retire until next year. We don’t need your services until next season, when you can roam the streets at 3:30 in the morning, banging your drum as the alarm clock no one really wanted or asked for. That’s my favorite touch, you going from door to door like the young kids back home who mowed the lawn without your permission, and now want to get paid for a hack job and to go away for services rendered. What a trip… 5. AFCON - Yeah, I just need to write this down for posterity. Which team celebrated after the match was played again? I don’t care either way. I’m likely the only person in the entire country who didn’t watch a game, but yeah, that was fun the other night listening to the revelers, celebrating after the appeal decision by honking car horns and belting out sounds with those stupid plastic children's wannabe trumpets. Wow, an amazing display of sportsmanship, months later, in the middle of the night, in Islam’s most revered season. But I get it, you think you won something tangible. Who cares if the World Cup is only a few months away? 6. Speaking of the World Cup, why is the Commander in Chief in Washington DC, saying that the Iranian team wouldn’t be safe? I’m going to call this out for what it is: stop being such an @#$ and treat some people with empathy and compassion. Then again, maybe not starting a war just for its own sake and allowing other means to achieve lasting peace would have been better for the bottom line. I hope the Iranian team can play all their games in Mexico and as far away from the White House’s eyes as possible. For that matter, go team Iran. Wouldn’t that be the story to have them get to a semifinal match and the USA team out in the first round? Now that’s something to support.  An reenactment of Tom the cat pooping in the field 7. While I’m musing about my home country, aside from the one resignation, when are politicians on both sides of the aisle going to wake up, actually grow a pair, and stand up to a bully who has no place in modern politics? Honestly, let’s bring up Pearl Harbor to get a bloody reaction, or call out other world leaders and continue this negative, old energy crap that no longer serves a purpose. As an American, what does it say about us as a country to let some hack treat others in such a negative manner? Let’s not focus on being the loving example around the world, a tangible light for those in darkness. Instead, we can be the country that stirs up stuff in a way that didn’t have to happen. But sure, there’s a bottom line in there, and who cares about children, families, and everyday people around the world who are caught in the crossfire? I get it, the media must be driving this circus, but then again, what do I know when the only clips I see are of an insecure old man, questioning, belittling, and degrading everyone around him. It must be me . . . 8. This sort of leads back to the series of blog posts about people who are kind and empathetic towards others. Then again, it seems that, especially since the pandemic, we are living in a world with two types of people. You have those who are considerate and actually think about others and how their actions might impact them, and then there are the idiots who keep dodging pedestrians on the streets, blocking other cars in the parking lot, making stupid comments on Facebook pages, or simply selfish individuals who seem to think they are the only inhabitants in this world. I’m sure there are other good examples, but you get the idea. Where’s the pause and thinking about how one’s actions impact another? I’m not stating you need to go out on the streets and start handing out food or money to every beggar or person you walk by, but you can probably pause for a moment and think, hey maybe I should give up this seat at the bus stop for the old woman with all the grocery bags, as opposed to throwing a suitcase on the unoccupied spot and then feigning a really important phone call, ignoring anyone in need. 9. Birds. Yep, they have come back to Tangier. I’m not sure where they were hiding for three months. With no more weeks of rain on end, the seagulls have returned in force. I might even be housing a pigeon family or two in the eaves of my exterior blinds. No, I have no idea how that happened, but it’s two years in a row now. Did I mention how the cat at school speaks Seagulese? He does, every single morning at eight, if he hasn’t been fed by one of the staff, he cries out like a gull. It’s humorous. 10. Speaking of humorous, Tom, the school cat, an elderly chap, was caught in the act of defecating in the middle of our soccer field while learning Seagulese. True story, the seagulls were out doing their thing, raiding the trash bins, while Tom ran out to the middle of the field, popped a squat, and looked around to make sure no one was watching. After leaving a few land mines for the kids to run around on, he sprinted off the field towards the school, leaving his little presents behind. This isn’t the first time he’s left gifts, but the only time he’s been caught in the act. I don’t think anyone believes my story, but I know what I saw. 11. Did I ever share that, for me, writing fiction is easier than non-fiction? True story: I used to think the opposite, but at least between Forever Poland and Brindisi and Me, the process is more time-consuming because, with the stories set in real life, there is some need for fact-checking and getting everything straight. In a fiction piece, I can simply feign ignorance or say it’s only a story, so the details don’t matter. Hmmm, that seems a lot like the line of thought the head cheeto follows. Apologies, I digress . . . 12. Finally, after months of eating frozen spinach, because for some reason I thought it tasted good, I have figured out that boiling spinach and then adding it to cooked green peas and some parmesan cheese is an absolute treat. If we actually had fresh spinach available, I wouldn’t have found out this fact, but since I’ve been buying the frozen variety off and on since September (usually in bulk), it’s something I’ve learned through experimentation. Here’s a sort of fun fact: at least at my local Marjane grocery store, the greens have been limited, period. We had lettuce for a short time, here and there, and while there are always mint leaves, it’s been rare to see any fresh spinach, and for that matter, the rocket stuff was only around for a month or two as well. That reminds me of my preferred butter, the President brand. We actually went several weeks without any salted butter, well, specifically non-local butter that isn’t vegetable oil disguised in butter shape. Oh goodness, I’m sick thinking about it… Till next update, be good to yourself and others. JFK Lent, Ramadan, and the Challenge of Self-Reflection One of the perks of the Lenten season is giving up something, a vice ideally, to prepare for Easter. Generally speaking, from a young age, I recall trying to give up things, from pizza to swearing to fighting with my twin brother to judging others too quickly. My success rate was mixed, but I appreciated seeing whether I could, in fact, keep my word and have the willpower to do the right thing. Fast forward to the present, middle-aged, and I still see the benefits of reflecting and deciding what serves and what doesn’t. For me, this is less about the Easter holiday and more about identifying how I can be a better person, period. Living in Tangier, Morocco, for this season and watching the nation if you will go through Ramadan, not only do I see parallels, but I also wonder why it’s such a challenge for people to simply do the right thing, regardless. The world would be a far better place if we simply treated one another better and let go of our obsessions and this "me" mentality that really only makes sense for children who are still learning who they are and who they want to become as adults. School and education in general are supposed to be safe places for kids to be kids, but also to embody and inculcate in them the qualities of being functional, loving human beings. Our challenge is that, for whatever reason, as a society, many of us are not outgrowing the child phase and are unable to take on the lessons we are repeatedly taught in schools and in our families about being kind-hearted, generous, and thoughtful towards others. I know I struggle this time of year with the duplicity of everything. Regardless of whether one is Christian or Muslim, why does one need a specific time of year to be reminded to slow down, be patient with others, and not be a dooshbag? Yes, what a great word to use. I could have used dickhead instead. But the point is, why do we need reminders to be generous, to donate to causes, to help the unfortunate, or to simply let someone cross the street? I’m not advocating for anything crazy, but the fact that we, as a population, still can’t see the God in those around us is baffling. Sure, it’s a struggle at times to figure out people’s motives and interactions can be frustrating, but one can also just be nice, period. You don’t have to like everyone, far from it, but why do we have to act as though our existence is more important than someone else? Impatience on the Roads: A Universal Problem IThe other day, I was walking home from work, and there were tons of cars out. With Ramadan underway, more people are leaving their jobs earlier to rush home and prepare their feasts for the night after the fast is broken. The challenge is the drivers' lack of patience. Don’t misunderstand me, drivers are crap here to begin with, and I already have to be extra vigilant using the crosswalks because in this area, the common courtesy that more drivers use in other parts of the world is lacking. This is my reality. So it’s always a game crossing the street, but on this one day, the cars were completely jammed. One would think I could simply walk to the other side without resistance. An ambulance fought its way through, and, as in every country, you have drivers who think they can use this emergency vehicle as a means of cutting around others and skipping the line. At this traffic circle and intersection, three of the four junctions were blocked. After I wisely didn’t jump into the crosswalk when the ambulance pushed through, I figured it was clear because the rest of the cars weren’t going anywhere. Poor me, almost got myself run over by not one but two idiots who tailgated the ambulance. The first SUV swerved around other cars while I was still in the other lane, but the second guy, who decided to push his luck, followed, and literally, I could have slapped his window. He did the a-hole pointing-at-the-car-in-front-of-him thing as though that gave him permission to pass the line of other cars waiting their turns to go. Nor did he care that I was inches from his door handle or the hood of his car. Was I pissed? Absolutely. Did I give him the international sign for peace that I usually save for tailgaters back in the United States? You bet I did. Even days later, I still can’t let go of the fact that this guy didn’t give two hoots that I was in his lane. Now, this wasn’t the first time that a yahoo swerved around me while I was in the crosswalk. This is common here, which makes it that much more frustrating. People don’t care. They are in a rush and want to be on their way at the cost of anyone who gets in the way. I find it puzzling for this time of year, especially since so many drivers lack the grace of the season. No joke, the next day I’m at the gate of my school, leaving, and again I’m in the crosswalk as a vehicle stops to pick up several students. Behind this SUV, another car doesn’t want to wait. He cut around the SUV, ready to gun it. I stopped in the center of the crosswalk and pointed at him with my umbrella. Truly, do you plan on running over a child because you don’t want to wait twenty seconds? Let’s be clear: this isn’t just a Moroccan thing. Okay, drivers are ridiculous in southern Italy, and, for that matter, on the streets of Krakow. So this is an issue everywhere, and in the United States, while we don’t have the issue with the crosswalks, we have the impatient drivers riding your tail on the highway because they want to go ninety in a fifty-five. I remember driving up to my sister’s in Augusta, Maine. There is a merge shortly after the Gardiner exit for Interstate 95 and 295. Because it’s a merge, whether a driver likes it or not, the fast lane becomes a transitional one, and sometimes a slower lane, until traffic spreads out. On this one trip, I was in this lane, going seventy in a fifty-five, and I spotted in my rear-view mirror a black monster truck weaving in and around cars. There was no doubt he was jumping into my lane, and he did just that seconds later. I refused to go any faster because I was trying to cut into the middle lane and slow down. This fellow wasn’t having any of it; he revved his engine like a hillbilly at a monster truck rally. With a slew of slower vehicles to my immediate right, I couldn’t simply cut over, certainly at the speed dingbat behind me wanted. He continued to tailgate me, so as I was getting ready to switch lanes, I gave him the finger. I was pissed, like, honestly, get off my six and be more patient. Let it be known that I was stupid on my part. I safely got into the middle lane, and this fellow didn’t like the insult. Instead of him just roaring on his way, I guess he now wanted to take the time to teach me a lesson, which all bullies need to do to feel better about their entitlement. He swerved in front of me, hit his brakes, and then turned on some rear fog lights that he had custom-made. Those LED lights blinded me. Seriously, and while I’m sure he was ready for me to retaliate, all I could do was laugh. Clearly, I wasn’t the first driver this guy pissed off, and I wouldn’t be the last. If you have to install a custom light kit for this specific purpose, it’s a matter of time until karma or some serendipitous event teaches you a lesson. As for me, I switched lanes, laughed some more because there was nothing I could do, without driving like a bat out of hell with my Mazda 3 to go after this guy who was likely now doing 100 miles per hour. The greater question is, where did this guy get off driving recklessly, just like the ones at the crosswalks? People aren’t thinking about the other person or the family in front of them, but only themselves. That’s the greater concern. A Little More Grace in Everyday LifeWhile I could harp on the seasons of Ramadan or Lent and how participants' daily lives adhere to some rules but miss the point of gratitude, empathy for others, and patience, it’s far easier to look at the drivers across countries and use them as a model for behavior that can no longer be tolerated if we want to transition to a more loving society.
I can also use all of my Ryanair examples from previous blogs, and the continued ridiculousness of people around the world being oblivious to the fact that they aren’t the only people traveling. If I see one more TikTok clip with a passenger being upset because they couldn’t sit with their partner or kid because they didn’t take the time to buy seats together, I could lose my mind. Or those parents who don’t know how to manage their children on a plane or at the airport because they want to doomscroll and pretend parenting only happens at home. Let’s add to the fray a lack of physical space and awareness, with hands, feet, and other body parts infringing on your seat, and we've got the trifecta. Away from travels but simply daily life, I’m not saying you have to give money to every beggar on the street or hold the door for the line of people going into the grocery store at the same time, but you sure as heck can slow down and be nicer. Just realize you aren’t the only person in this world, and without those people around you, there wouldn’t be a society to live in and participate in. Sheesh, this has reached rant level today, but rightfully so. As a world of citizens, many of us claim to be more consciously aware and better than previous civilizations, yet we struggle to get along. We still have wars, hunger, poverty, and, in my case, stupid drivers who couldn't give two hoots about pedestrians. We aren’t going to change things overnight, but during this Lenten season, as people prepare for Easter, or in the case of Ramadan, where families will celebrate the end of their fasting shortly, look past your differences, put your entitlement aside and remember you aren’t the only person here doing the best they can to survive and ideally flourish and grow in this planet we call Earth. We are here to be loved and to experience life together. That can be easily done if we show some grace, patience, and more kindness to one another.  Working cover for my latest book Here’s something new to share and a bit unexpected. I have two more chapters left in my Forever Poland book. Originally started at the end of last April, I wrote the first 50,000 words before taking a break in the summer to focus on summer camp, of all things. Fast forward to writing the follow-up to Rusty Star, which, by the way, is free if you are looking for a mystery book, and since the beginning of February, I have been busy typing away at the remaining chapters of Forever Poland. True to every book I write, the writing process has been different, but for the most part, I have written at least 1500 words a day for the last six weeks. For that matter, the fewest words in one evening were 1000, and that was this past Friday, because of the ridiculous drumming outside the apartment building to mark another night of feasting here in Tangier. Don’t worry, I’ll blog about that sensation and the jerk who decided to almost hit me while crossing the sidewalk the other day. Maybe I’ll also add the story about the van I stared down and pointed with my umbrella when he decided he wanted to cut around a parent picking up their child. Oh yes, it’s Ramadan here in Morocco, and people are doing fabulous with their fasting and clearly looking out for the betterment of others. Again, we’ll break down that fun at a later date. To celebrate the fact that I’m almost done with Forever Poland, here’s an excerpt from my latest chapter. Do enjoy, and I’ll be in touch soon. Excerpt from Forever Poland Krakow's Most Beautiful House Shifting all the way back to August, I set out on several early morning runs to explore the city and get a feel for any area that might be worth a trip when the sun was actually out. Sure, many of my future haunts were in the direction of Dębniki or Błonia, but the Vistula River goes in the other direction as well. For one run, I wanted to see what was past Galeria Kazimierz, as it was clear the running and biking path went on for a bit, but to what end? Cruising along Bulwar Kurlandzki, I was immediately taken by the water, the trees, and, for that matter, the grass and fields. There were intermittent benches and places to pause for reflection. Without much effort, it felt like I was already in a quieter spot of the city. What I didn’t notice initially was that this new running route was a mixed-use area. The cycling and walking paths were separated, which was a plus, until they weren’t again, and that was a chore depending on who decided to stop and take random photos. Then again, it was a very scenic wooded route and even served as a cross-country trail whenever snow decided to blanket the area. If I could complain for a bit about how many times the route was blocked by some idiot on their cell phone with their bike in the middle of the trail, we would be here for a while. Yes, that strikes a nerve, but not anywhere as much as the dog walkers who seemed oblivious to the fact that this is a shared trail. I’ll admit, I should have carried dog bones with me, but then again, why the locals walk their dogs on sixty-foot leashes remains one of Poland’s mysteries to me. On not one, but multiple runs in this area, I made it a point to be out before five, simply because I wanted it all for myself. It appears I wasn’t the only one, because this old timer and his German Shepherd with a Hannibal Lector muzzle were always out at the same blasted time and on the same stretch closest to the river. I tried to avoid them by leaving a few minutes earlier and later, but this section of bliss was too long, and the universe clearly wanted us to have frequent interactions or for me to give up and find a different loop. I’m not kidding. Our first introduction happened when it was still dark. I didn’t even know there was anyone on the trail, but as I came down off the incline into the meadow, I could make out a figure, most likely a walker. There was no doubt, but other than that, my angle was off, because I could barely make out a bench, and this figure was coming towards me. What do I know, but this guy’s massive dog was taking his jolly old time, likely just rolling around in the grass, waiting for the right moment to pounce and drive me into the waters of the Vistula. Things didn’t play out that way because, in this case, this Shepherd must have been dozing, and who knows what the old man was doing, but I startled them both. I jumped when the dog yelped. I might have even screamed like a little girl, and having Rin Tin Tin on such a long rope was ridiculous. The leash was for show because I knew if the dog bolted, he was either going to rip the old man’s arm off or take it with him. I watched the beast make his gesture towards me, clearly ready to taste an American teacher, but the guy made a simple nudge, and the attack was held off. Did he still growl at me? Did I come to a full stop and put out my hand, hoping for the best? Absolutely, but it was nerve-wracking, especially since I could barely make them out. We met up three to four more times because I decided I couldn’t handle the potential one time this animal broke loose. Muzzle or not, he was going to kick my ass, and I wasn’t ready for that to happen. What I wanted instead, after yet another showdown with more snarling, and the old man oblivious to “good morning,” was a means to continue my run along the river, but with less stress. I certainly didn’t want to run on the cyclist path and deal with those maniacs. That’s when I spotted what looked like a derelict barge on the other side of the river, and I wondered what route I needed to take in order to explore that area. As the sun rose in the east, I spotted a runner. Most certainly, I knew they could have done a huge loop, turned at the church in the woods, and then cut down. However, they managed to find that spot. I was committed to leaving this future crime scene behind and, funnily enough, traveling to a different one. I’m not sure if it was in late September or October, but I know it was well before my travels took over what felt like every weekend, where I sought out this very spot. Of course, I went out in the middle of the day on a Sunday. Let me share: if the goal is to avoid people, don’t go out in Kraków on Sunday, especially not on a nice, sunny one. No one stays home. Granted, I get it. Once November shows up and the sun decides to disappear for three to four months, one has to take what they get. Then again, for every local who told me, “Just wait, the summer is beautiful here,” it seemed they had missed the fact that every season has its advantages. For an introvert, bring on the clouds and mixed precipitation, because unlike a sunny Sunday, families come up with alternatives to their long walks through the city and to any patch of grass along the river. Note, I’m not complaining here, but pointing out that this is the reality of life in Kraków. So on this magical Sunday when the temperatures shot up to a balmy seventy degrees, I wasn’t alone even when I hoped to be. Trust me, I went on a roundabout loop to get to this barge with a good exploration of the area after I spotted the familiar tour buggies and the troop of people gawking and waiting for their chance to get into Schindler’s Factory. Everyone is playing tourist on Sunday, and those who aren’t are probably young families out for a walk and some ice cream. I remember cutting along Jana Dekerta, passing the athletic field where a kid’s soccer match was underway, and thinking to myself, "This explains the random ghosts on various buildings in town." Others are trying to scare people from visiting. Zabłocie wasn’t overwhelmed with families, but more like the university students who were now only waking up and trying to figure out what they were going to eat, before swarming the river’s edge. Still, it was bearable, and I was committed to getting to this barge. Next, I was walking past Park Stacja Wisła, which is actually quite lovely and an easy jump over to Bulwar Lotników Alianckich, where the creepy vibes begin. In the early morning hours, this entire stretch is sketchy. It’s not from the dog walkers either, but just the energy between the fact that the paved area looks like a place you would find people taking their car to drop trash or a body. It’s one or the other. The running trail directly above feels off to me, too. I’m not talking about the unevenness of it all. Then again, if you want to run underneath a bridge and get that whole hitting your head vibe, or check out the latest graffiti, this might be your best chance to do just that in this area. Granted, it could also just be that I know in the opposite direction; this path got swallowed up by the construction. It could be better now with the railroad bridge finished, and yet, even on my last visit, as I walked this familiar route, I was waiting for the other shoe to drop. I just can’t figure out whether the boat landing is actually in use or is a stand-in for some nefarious activity. Not even out for a run but walking this route, I have yet to see a boat tie up and pick up any passengers, even though there is a glut of watercraft farther down the river, in direct proximity to Wawel Castle. Why the dock and the mooring bollards? A little farther down is where the real fun begins, honestly. One would need to be blind not to see the wanna be crack house on the river’s edge with the boats rusting away in its not-so-well-manicured yard. I never took the time to learn whether this building, or what was left of it, was the headquarters for the old shipping fleet, or whatever owned and managed these barges and boats that had seen far better days. I wanted to check out the boat, the same one I spotted across the river, but first I had to deal with the fact that this boarded-up house and a half-ass fence kept me from accomplishing my goal. Hearing several voices and noticing through the fence that at least two people were exploring the same area, I cut through the grass and towards the river’s edge. It seemed the least suspect way of entering this fray, not to mention the closer I got to the house, I was one hundred percent sure some squatter or squatters on a drug binge were going to be racing out the one open window or door where the boards were half removed or cast aside entirely. Maybe someone was living there, or maybe people were using it as a drug den. I didn’t dare go inside, knowing that my luck would run out faster than me removing the muzzle from that Shepherd. No, it made more sense to trek through the rusted remains of a boat graveyard wearing nothing but a t-shirt and shorts, seeing if my Tetantus shot was up to date. The two other explorers were already on the old boat by the time I found a clear route into the back area. As I watched them climb around that corroded bucket and make their way to the wheel of the ship, I had no interest in joining them. I was already likely trespassing, just like these two men, and didn’t see how joining them and pretending we were buddies on a fishing trip would improve my situation. No, it was far easier to cut across the yard to the second boat, a far more decayed structure with some serious oxidation issues, but easier to climb onto and enjoy the view of the river. My plan seemed good until I spotted a man and a woman beating me to it. Thinking they would be quick and then return to their walk, I looked at the rear of the boat, already spraypainted to the nines, and kept meandering towards the water to make it appear that I wasn’t hoping to join in on the fun. In true, this can only happen to me, fashion, I looked out across the river, probably a hundred feet from that rust bucket, and marveled at the crowds of people lining the beach and the very route where the Shepherd roamed. Delighted that I was correct in my assessment, aside from the crackhouse, this seemed to be a far superior spot. Then again, the animal sounds coming from the boat told me that three was a crowd. The fact that I caught a glimpse of the blonde woman’s head disappearing beneath the rails made me wonder. Where her partner went, I didn’t stay long enough to figure out, but I did look back long enough to see what remained of that cabin shaking. Hopefully, they were both up to date on their shots. As for my new spot that also served as a lover’s nest, I can share that it was the only time I saw or heard any of that funky stuff going on. When the winter weather came, all that remained was the sketchy house and the bones of each boat. Call it a sunny Sunday that caused the riffraff or bored locals to come out to play, but on future visits, the place was all mine. Last time I checked, I believe the building has been razed, but the boats remain, a reminder of the city’s glorious past on one of Poland’s great rivers. Then again, for me, it was simply a more unusual, yet quieter, off-the-beaten-path location to enjoy, that didn’t entail me walking toward Wawel Castle, taking the balloon ride, or seeing which dogs were going to have their way with me across the river….. From Pandemic to Pure Chaos: Have We Learned Anything? Sick at home, I decided to peruse my old blogs, the ones that were deleted in the usual yearly purge of my website, as though cleansing the site would create new energy and better vibes. Of course, with last night being some special planetary alignment that I didn’t read long enough to share, everything is perfect now. Absolutely perfect. Or is it? To begin, looking at what I wrote in 2021, five years ago, I’m wondering to myself, have things improved, or are they worse? Read on, and we will discuss momentarily. Regardless of your opinion on COVID-19, the reality is that our world is a different place than it was two years ago. Not wanting to dive into the politics, on masks, vaccines, and the like, I simply will share that I have noticed that daily routines and interactions are not what they used to be. Now, when I shop or leave the house, I go out of my way to go in the earlier hours when there are fewer people. It has nothing to do with being the first to get a deal, but simply with avoiding large groups and drama. I should bold the word drama. That's the big change for me. It seems people are in a rush, less considerate than before, and, frankly, too wrapped up in themselves and their stuff to be mindful of those around them. It's not just with shopping. One can see this out on the roads or even in the neighborhoods or communities where they reside. Across the board, this behavior is rampant. There is a reason why I avoid popular hiking trails on these perfect fall days. Between the selfie and dog brigades, good luck enjoying any sense of nature unless you truly do get off the beaten path. If you want to call people out for blocking the trail for their picture-perfect moment, be ready for an earful. Dining, Drama, and the Death of Decency In the past, I have written on such topics, so I don’t want to repeat myself. And yet, I had a reminder over the weekend when, for the first time in fifteen months, I went inside to eat at a local dining establishment. A place I frequented often prior to the pandemic was just what I was hankering for. Lo and behold, when I got inside, within twenty minutes, I was ready to run for the door. It wasn't necessarily the food that sent me running, but this same rude behavior that has carried over to everything and everywhere. It’s that same negativity that runs wild in the news and, at times, in our schools. I watched couples come in, sit at the bar, and, without any sense of courtesy, demand that multiple televisions be switched to a specific football game even though most of the seats were taken and many eyes were fixated on the different screens. Next were comments about the need for an extra bottle and to make sure it's chilled for an already cold beer. Another person wanted the volume turned up because it was hard to hear the game in a crowded bar, while another lambasted their date, and they both were glued to their phones. The entire scene struck me as odd because I would think that, after months of being cooped up, people would be flexible when out and, at the very least, courteous with one another. Instead, it seems people, at least where I ate, were more demanding and needy. I don't know whether that’s the norm now, or if I happened to hit the jackpot. What has your experience been? Are people kinder and more understanding when you’re out, or have you seen this shift as well? It might not be fair for me to jump into this argument, as I’m currently living in Morocco, but when I’m back in the United States, I feel this is more of the same. We have so many people who are in it for themselves. I don’t want to blame our role models or the government, but look at the politics behind everything going on. There is no more fence-sitting because we have a leader without compassion for the everyday person, a man of the old energy, the old paradigm, a vestige of the 1980s mentality, and for that, we are all watching the sideshow, with many of us hoping for things to end. Recently, I was talking to a friend about such topics and the fact that, along the way, not only have many ignored compassion, but they also lack the integrity to be good and decent human beings. For certain, many will have a different working definition of what that precisely means, but come on, we all know right from wrong, how to play nice, and how to be present enough to take others into account. Or do we? While I would love to spend this article asking why there are so many politicians in government who have caved to an egomaniac who continues to stir the pot for his personal means, doing that will make this more polarized and will take away the point that I’m just looking for people to be nice to one another. Politics aside, why is it so hard to see the other person in front of us as an equal, loving angel in disguise? That’s a good question. Or am I getting too wu-wu by jumping into that type of framework? How about this, then? You tell me what you would do in this common scenario. We can keep it simple because it shows the lack of compassion and consideration many experience in daily life. The Copier Test: A Mirror for Modern Humanity Pretend that at work, you share a photocopying machine with all of your coworkers. Let’s say thirty people to one copier for the sake of this example. As part of your job, you need to print things out daily, as do many of your coworkers. There are several boxes of paper put out every few days for printing. Often, people print what they need and go. For those who print larger quantities, there is a population who continue to print what they need and go without bothering to restock the paper in the machine. While others will double-check both paper drawers before printing and afterwards, especially after larger jobs, to ensure the machine is ready for the next person. Let’s not forget the people who will print, rip open the paper, take out only what they need, and then leave the empty wrapping or wrappings either on top of the photocopier or nearby. The best look is when you come into the room: the wrappings are everywhere, including the empty boxes just left next to the copier, as though it’s someone else’s problem to clean everything. What person are you? And what does this potentially say about you as a person, depending on how you use the copier? What if you are the person who makes a comment about this behavior? Is that wrong or against office etiquette? What does it mean if you do say something, but you get lectured for calling others out on their lack of professionalism? I know, lots of food for thought. Just for fun, let’s pretend there is a paper jam. Are you the person who will try to fix it? Ask someone for help? Or turn off the machine and walk away as if nothing happened? Or even better, the toner needs to be replaced. How do you deal with the situation? Do you let someone know it needs to be replaced? Can you replace it? Or do you just ignore the error light and disappear into the nether again? Maybe the best scenario, someone changes the toner, gets it all over the floor, and you watch the entire scene. Do you simply stay at your desk, pretending you didn’t see anything happen? Or are you the person who walks into the room, sees the mess on the floor, and immediately sets out to clean it so the ink doesn’t cause a lasting issue? Five years ago, I focused on common decency at a restaurant, but now it plays out right before my eyes, at a photocopier of all places. The central hub of many workplaces, and from my perspective, a deeper view into the minds of everyone. If people are so wrapped up in their personal dramas, in their little tasks, and they can’t pause long enough to think about the next person, what does that mean exactly? Sure, they are human, the fallible human who is here to learn and love. But why, my question is, are we unable to show enough empathy for others and consideration? Should we not be able to handle the burden of keeping a photocopier stocked, maintained, and running smoothly? What does that mean for our relationships with people we actually care about, our family dynamics, and everything we do? Some readers will have already put this article down and said it’s ridiculous. I’d say those are the same people I’m trying to reach to do better, to be nicer, to actually consider that there are other people in this world than them. When they understand this lesson, watch the change across the board. In the States, we are worried about the government, but maybe it’s the copiers we need to start with to really get things moving. What do you think? |
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. 
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