A farmhouse in Poland

Getting back to the great OE, after Krakow came four days in a farmhouse 60kms south west of Krakow, on the road to Tarnow. Or, as Barb's brother told us on Facebook just a week before I left New Zealand, 'leave west london, head east, drive for 1200 miles and you're there. Nearly. Or, the house no. is 87, the village is Flisewice, the area is Zakliczyn, the state is Malopolski. It's somewhere in-between Tarnow and Krakow. I promise I will be at the airport when you arrive. p.s. it's not a big forest.' And as Barb's husband responded 'I had a case of Malopolskie once, but the Zakliczyn cleared it right up.'

The first day saw a girls' trip to Brzesko (said Br-jes-go), and the markets. Officially, we were there to find Boz something to wear for the christening, but unofficially, I had a GREAT time. Shopping without a shared language is surprisingly easy. And the stall-holders were amazingly helpful. This was a market chocka full of clothes and shoes stalls. Heaven! I found a stunning grey velvet dress complete with sparkly bits, for only 110 zlotys... about $50NZ. The only queues were the ones at the food / drink stalls - for water. In 35 degrees, everyone was keen to keep hydrated.

The second day we were sent to Zaklycyn (said Za - klitchen). Another market, smaller this time, with more of the second-hand clothes variety. I went with high hopes (and 500 zlotys in hand), but failed to spend anything there. When we discovered a flat battery, we were forced back into the shops (the heat, you know), and had a great time exploring the supermarkets and electronics shops. I found a charger for my mobile phone for 15 zlotys (about $6), and very proudly carried out the transaction from start to finish without much Polish at all.Needing a jeweller, Barb spotted two teenage girls standing outside on the street. Thinking these would be the obvious people to know where to find a jeweller, she was right when they pointed across the (narrow, cobblestoned) street and one of them came to serve us!

Home in the Polish countryside was indeed next to a forest, and on each day I managed a wander through. It was shady (good in the heat), and felt just like Little Red Riding hood was going to appear. I was told that 70% of Poles live in the countryside, and I could quite believe it. The houses were of concrete blocks, solid and large. I was told that many housed extended families, which was true for the house in which we stayed.

The hospitality was amazing. On our arrival, our hosts discovered that beer was off the menu for Barb, as she is gluten-free. Jacek disappeared, and reappeared with cider in hand. This was presented to us, and each time our glasses were emptied, they were refilled. No great trouble in the heat we were facing! The other seemingly endless supply was of cake, or ciasto (chas-to). It is very hard to say no, when six varieties of cake are placed in front of you... I gave up trying to say 'no thankyou' (or nie dziekuje (n-yeah gen-kweer)) and ate the cake with every meal (breakfast, morning tea, lunch, afternoon tea and dinner). In this house, the main meal of the day was at midday, and included two courses - soup and a main. Stunning food, beautifully cooked.

Speaking of food, the after-match function proved a culinary delight. (The reason for our visit to Poland was the christening of Barb's niece). But before I take you there, I have to tell you about the church. Around 200 years old, made from stones taken from a castle that was even older. This was a stunning Polish, Catholic church (all three things were a new experience for me). Situated off the main road, the church seemed to be a focal point for the community - the family we stayed with attended on at least two other occasions while we were there. It was right next to a huge graveyard, which was obviously well-used and well-cared-for.

So, on to the after-match function. It was about 5pm, searing heat, down on the main road on the first floor of a pub. On the table when we arrived were bowls of noodles. On sitting down, the bowls had broth added to them to make noodle soup. YUM! This was followed by a main meal, then I started to lose track. About every hour a new lot of food was brought out. There were hot sides, cold sides, cake, soup, mains, desserts, food, food food! The last serving was of a stew. I was persuaded to fill my bowl, and managed to slurp the liquid. I simply could not fit another morsel (for me, an experience I have never had before).

Now, of course, all this food was not served without an accompanying drink. I was reliably informed there were 12 bottles of vodka (or wodka). For 25 people. Some of which were children, and breastfeeding Mums. So there were about 18 of us for which the vodka was provided.

Imagine, if you will, a shot glass at every place setting. Behind the shot glass was a normal drinking glass for the juice (in jugs on the table). For each shot of vodka taken, you would follow up with a swig of juice.

I learnt two very useful words that night: polowa (pour - over) meaning half, and na zdrowie (nos - drou-via) meaning good health, or cheers. Every little while, Jacek would come around the table, filling the shot glasses. Shortly after, someone would raise their glass into the air and the others would follow suit. A resounding call of na zdrowie, and the glasses were emptied. In this way, nine bottles of vodka disappeared. (A lasting memory: from the end of the table, a plaintive 'Bar-bar-a, Bar-bar-a, na zdrowie. My friend did the team proud).

Poland was stunning. I'm really keen to go back one day, but know that I can never replicate our stay there. If we do go, I'm going to aim for Brzesko - out of the main centres with a great market, and a lot closer to the 'true Poland'. Na zdrowie!