Zalipie – Poland's Happiest Village - The Drive In (Forever Poland Excerpt)

Zalipie – The Drive In (Forever Poland Excerpt)

10/5/2025

In the spirit of my Poland travels, I've been working on a memoir that encompasses all of my trips while living in Poland. The working title of the book is Forever Poland. Right now, I'm about 50,000 words in. With the follow-up to Rusty Star ongoing the second part of Forever Poland has to wait til January for the proper time to revisit the book and finish the remaining chapters.

I wanted to share more of the writing process, so here's part one of my trip to Zalipie, which I also documented in a YouTube video blog on Travel with Mr. Jon. I'll include that at the end for your viewing pleasure. In the meantime, grab some coffee or tea and indulge in this first draft of my road trip to Poland's happiest and prettiest Village.

Zalipie - The Drive In

My time in Poland was coming to an abrupt end, faster than I wished, but it was necessary because family obligations back in the United States demanded my attention. Still, I wanted to get out and see more of the countryside in those final days. Two weeks earlier, I had my return trip to Przemysl, and in my final weekend, I jetted up to Warsaw to pay my respects. The question remained, where else could I go close enough to Kraków and a manageable day trip?

Remembering the incessant Instagram posts on what to do in Poland and several travel blogs listing the top ten things to see or visit in southern Poland, the quintessential Polish village kept being pushed to the forefront. Whispers became downright shouting about Zalipie, the place behind the linden trees. My coworkers mentioned how it was a must, and all I can ask to this day is whether they went to the place. Truly, that’s what I took after this midday trip with a friend. More on that in a bit. Note to self that sometimes the journey is better than the destination, and this trip was that for me.

Before we try to put the horse back in the barn, let’s start from the beginning. When Dana asked if we could get together the day before I flew back to the United States, I half-mentioned that I had considered looking into one more travel vlog. Already, my travel partner for some other day trips from Nowa Huta, Poland’s Desert, and to a forest near Skawina, Dana was game for one more run. We likely could have found another spot in Kraków to take in, as there is so much to see and places many tourists overlook. And yet, I didn’t see the point in trying to top the Elvis Presley Monument, where I got to rub his head and wonder which superfan created this masterpiece.

No, it was far easier to settle on Zalipie, the folk town where women painted flowers on all the homes and structures, passed down from generation to generation to beautify their gloomy, dark wooden homes, dealing with the grime of coal and other burning substances. Oh yeah, this seemed like a promising idea, especially since Dana’s kids weren't up for the trip, which made me wonder if it wasn’t as cool as social media had made it out to be. We had no idea what we were in for, except for what Google Maps showed by clicking on the occasional image.

Having traveled many times this school year, I didn’t want to ruin the trip by seeing too much in advance. Why bother going if we can simply look at a photograph? There would be no further inquiries. I put further research aside. Dana input the village name into her GPS, and we set out mid-morning for a route none of us had previously experienced.

Romanian by blood, Dana had done her fair share of exploring with her family. She had taken her kids to the desert, which prompted me to visit, although I questioned whether they enjoyed the location, especially since it was underwhelming to me. Maybe it’s because we are grown adults, and it just takes more to get one excited about different things. I hoped this would prove a better trip, one where both of us found the area intriguing and worth the gas mileage.

We never took train trips together; it was always by car. I was already accustomed to Dana’s lead foot, which would make her a good fit with drivers in Maine or New Hampshire, especially on the highways. As we merged onto A4 and drove towards Tarnów, I found it fun to see the trains in the distance. On several trips, I had been on those trains, yet on this one, we were racing past the approaching trains as they made their final approach to the city.

Our route was going to be straightforward with the highway as our focal point until we got to the outskirts of Tarnów. We were either in the vicinity or passing several areas I had penciled in on potential trips, and they had all fallen through for a litany of reasons.

Wieliczka was the first place I saw on Rick Steeves's guide to the area. Known for the 13th-century salt mine, it was part tourist trap and part amazing. To this day, I wish I had ventured over via the train, the same one that goes back and forth to the airport on the hour, to simply explore the chapel of St. Kinga, which is made entirely of salt. I know pictures don’t do it justice, and yet I never found the time to visit.

I believe it was the number of tourists I feared would frequent the same spot, and I didn’t see the point in paying an entrance fee for Mass. I recall reading that attending Mass only was free of charge, but I could never confirm. To that end, as we drove past the signs for that area, I was remiss about a missed opportunity. I might have dwelt longer on this until I saw the sign for Bochnia.

Ironic as it may be, this is home to another mine, just not as popular as the one in Kraków. When I looked for alternatives to Wieliczka, this small city came up in my search. Unlike the latter, there is a water crossing within the mine. Instead of walking everywhere, this mine had an actual boat ride, perhaps the only one in Poland or Europe. I didn’t care enough to dig too deep on this one, but it was an alternative that passed the preliminary travel options on a future trip to Tarnów.

Here we were driving by, but Dana had no intention of stopping, nor was I inclined to ask her to do so. Our mission today was to find Poland’s happiest village and hopefully some content that made sense.

I lost track of the time, so when we turned off to Wierzchosławice and away from Tarnów, we were at the mercy of the side roads and heading north. What I do remember were fields, lots of them, and the occasional town. Nothing stood out until we were on 975 and driving through Radlow. I remember as if it were yesterday, even though I failed to catch it on camera.

This is the fun part of the story because this trip was one that remains on my channel, and so I had an opportunity to watch and remember what we found and what made the cut. Truth be told, the camera was put away the entire drive up until this juncture. Who wants to look at the highway, signs, and in this case, fields?

I told Dana to slow down as I saw this beautiful brick church off in the distance. The bridge we were on was the high point for this valley, with you guessed it, more fields, but the church, which seemed interesting enough that I considered asking her to veer towards its direction, until I didn’t. I might have said something had the GPS taken us in that vicinity, but instead, it had us taking the right between two vast cornfields. Only in June, the corn was growing, but not yet the high stalks we come to appreciate in the late summer season, let alone before they are ready to be plucked and harvested.

The Cornfields - the Real Show

In our favour, I looked out and spotted a cemetery to our immediate left. A tractor-trailer sped by, and I had to call out for Dana to stop. She knows of my obsession with cemeteries and had to make a phone call, so the timing was ideal, as is often the case with many of my vlogging sessions.

I will share that this wasn’t some quiet road either. We weren’t the only vehicle driving towards Zabno. There wasn’t even a proper pull-off. This was the countryside, and had it not been for the cemetery and the poorly maintained grass, Dana would have had to park off kilter on the edge of the road. I got out of the car and walked towards this beauty of a memorial.

I had to laugh because, truly, corn was planted around every part of this thing. The fact that there was a path of sorts seemed weird, but then again, this cemetery in the middle of a cornfield and high-voltage power lines was equally amusing.

The obelisk with the distinct cross towered over the crops, a full eleven meters high, and made this resting place for World War I soldiers even more fitting. A sign indicated that this was from late 1914 and early 1915, and soldiers from multiple sides were stationed in different sections of this relatively small outdoor shrine. A lone poppy grew proudly near the remains of some British soldiers. I spotted the German and Russian markers before climbing over the rock wall to take another look at the corn that enwrapped itself in this resting place for these soldiers.

Unlike cemeteries I had traveled to and explored over the past year in Poland, this one was different. The energy alone was unique, and these graves made me reflect on war, and how these soldiers were put here out of convenience, much like many others in this part of the countryside. I wasn’t aware until after the fact, how many WWI graves are littered across these small towns, villages, and cities. I saw larger, more significant resting spots for these armies in places like Przemysl and Giżycko, but here was fitting for men at war who traveled to a foreign land, and this was what they had time for.

It wasn’t glorious, nor did these men get much recognition for their efforts, and yet this proved they weren’t forgotten either.

Truly, as I walked back to the road and spotted another plot across the street, nestled between a grove of trees with a cornfield as its perimeter, this felt fitting and peaceful. The grave marker told me everything I needed to know, with something like two hundred and ten Russian soldiers placed in a mass grave. This walk was a longer one, set farther back off the road, and yet more inviting.

Four crosses took my breath away, and yet I focused on the fact that we had two small cemeteries with all this fertile land around them. I used the analogy on camera about how, even in death, there was a sense of renewal and rebirth that tied everything together. As I circled the wall, with only one entrance, I spotted more information about the five mass graves and three individual ones.

Indeed, learning more about this place was informative, but the crosses over the mass grave were not what I expected. They spoke to me at some level. The trees surrounding the wall seemed like the rear guard, standing watch over these brave men who lost their lives. More than one hundred years after the fact, I could get a sense of the toil, the struggle, and perhaps even, as a veteran, I could relate to this loss of innocence and what these soldiers experienced, and those who served with them.

The place was surreal and not an expected layover or wayward point. And yet, finding these cemeteries on the way to Poland’s happiest village seemed ironic and fitting at the same time. Dana missed all the fun, but then again, I don’t think she realized this might be the high point of our adventure.

We might have been on the high ground, because for the next few minutes we continued to drive in this low-level area that I swore was more of a flood plain, or a potential one. I even imagined the river overflowing and then feeding and nourishing these fields to produce the corn that would make even Kansas proud.

My New Favorite Team

Author Jonathan Kuiper posing with the elephant mascot of Bruk-Bet Termalica Nieciecza football team in Poland.

Zalipie was still several minutes out, and I couldn’t tell either way what, if anything, we would find. Flashbacks to our trip to the desert continued to linger, not because the desert was underwhelming, but from the anticipation we had near the Eagle’s Nest and the many side roads we found ourselves swinging onto, looking for the remnants of Poland’s castles and keeps. We can leave out the variety of those ruins and being charged for a relic that was a waste of time for a series of stones that barely resembled any structure, and yet, if we hadn’t gone in that direction, we would have missed that town with the old manor that begged for more attention.

I was banking on the same win, if you will, as we drove along the outskirts of Zabno. The first thing of notice was the stadium adjacent to a few streets of homes. This mammoth structure looked out of place among the low-lying plains that we drove through to reach the parking lot. We didn’t even stop for the football component, because as I shared freely in my vlog, I’m not the biggest fan. Granted, this has changed slightly, in that now I can boast of going to a Premier League match in the UK, but I wouldn’t say I’m more than a cursory viewer who simply checks scores and now wants to see what Jamie Vardy is up to.

As for Polish football, I can tell you next to nothing save that many of the cities I explored have some decent-sized stadiums, especially Opole and Rybnik, which was a bit surprising considering they aren’t huge cities. Out here in the sticks, we found ourselves parked out front of the 4500+ seat Bruk-Bet Termalica Nieciecza home field, which looked cool among the fields and the ominous storm clouds that decided to visit us. I got out of the car quicker than I should, considering the subject matter, but where else do you find giant elephants roaming?

That’s right, I was suckered in at the front gates by not one, but two elephants that demanded a photo op. I was surprised at my eagerness, but then again, these life-size cuties were worth the few-minute detour. The finishing on both of them was quite life-like between the soulful eyes and the tusks. I believed I took to them so much that I used it as my thumbnail for multiple media sites. People were expecting painted flowers, but I gave them elephants. (No wonder my channel has never taken off. I digress for a moment.)

I thought that would be the end of it and a quick return to the car, but no, I had to walk to the entrance to get a glimpse of the stadium. Part of me wanted to be able to go in and film these hallowed grounds, but alas, I kept walking the perimeter of the stadium only to walk away empty-handed. When I thought the exploring was over, in the back fields, the best part of this place came into full view. Don’t get me wrong, I spotted several homes with a gluttony of fresh flowers in full bloom, certainly a preview of what was about to come, but no a short walk from a portable toilet, I found more elephants.

These elephants were glorious. In the center of the cul-de-sac, with a few homes in the background, a large field, a cemetery, and those storm clouds that I knew were going to wreak havoc shortly thereafter, the family of three was beyond adorable. I don’t know whether it was the green astroturf skin, although maybe it was real grass, but between the dad with his tusks, the mom, and the baby that I got to pet, these elephants were a sight to behold.

Talk about a family to have in your front yard. If I’m being entirely honest, I was a bit jealous of the two kids on their bicycles circling these fine animals as they turned for some midday cemetery riding. After paying my respects to the trio that I wished were back at my school, guarding the entrance, as opposed to looking like they were getting ready to partake in a football game, I took one final look at the storm clouds.

It wasn’t a matter of if the early summer thunderstorm would come, but more of a when. The darker the clouds became, the sooner it would be. The question remained as I got back in the car, as to whether we would skirt by the edge of the storm or get walloped. One would be preferred over the other as we hadn’t even gotten to the village yet, and filmed what was supposed to be the apex of this travel vlog.

Still, it was beyond our control, and it’s not like I hadn’t trekked across this country in good and bad conditions. Heck, in Warsaw, I got stuck in a bloody hailstorm while finishing up a vlog en route to a date that I wish had never happened. I take that back; the Indian restaurant was worth trying, but the remaining hours of aimless walking and sitting in a café were not on my to-do list with a person I didn’t truly resonate with.

Rain seemed to follow me everywhere in Poland, and I wasn’t shocked it was on the horizon, nor that it wanted to do so on my final day vlogging in the country. As we drove away and found ourselves on yet another side road, it truly felt like a one-way route; I couldn't help but consider the weather. The idea of a flooded path crossed my mind again, even though I didn’t think it would happen to us at that moment.