Hello Amsterdam!!!!!!

After a few beers last night - I'm back sleeping in my own bed. It feels good. I wake up and continue my effort to make sure I can resurrect a social life despite my lack of presence in Amsterdam.

Following last night, a Brazilian friend and I are making a valiant effort to return to guitar playing by going to the park.

I have a Master's degree in Music and have dabbled at various points with musical ability. I have been, in the past, a drummer, a pretty reasonable brass player, and a regularly gigging bassist. Throughout all these musical identities, I have consistently been a bedroom guitarist. I basically enjoy playing for myself - working out songs, playing my favourites, singing a few(Albeit badly), at uni - I could pull out an acoustic and impress/bore, and I can also join in in Jam Sessions and hold my own.

The problem of late is that - being busy with work, and travelling a lot, you kind of can't be bothered ensuring that every second spent at home is used to make sure you haven't forgot every song you ever knew on the guitar.

A few months ago - I tried to remedy this by playing along to dookie:



It's dead easy to play - dead fun to play - and I have played almost every song on it at some point or other in a band.

First time through requires a couple of rewinds, but generally I'm surprised at my ability/memory, so I play it all the way through a second time, with now stops. When I put the guitar down, I can't move my left arm any more - I feel like an old man. It's been too long, since I played for any length of time, so need to get back on the horse.

In Amsterdam I have taken a selection of the many bits of guitars which reside in my parents house in Scotland and my set up is as follows:

Rosewood Guild Electric S50(Pic is Kim Thayil of Soundgarden with a Guild S100, but you get the picture)



A little Amp:



and a nine volt battery:



It's not the most powerful set up in the world, but it makes for a good trip to the park.

I have a Brazilian friend who I know through a friend in my Dutch class. For his guitar abilities. He is in a similar situation to me, in that he was without a guitar for a while, and needs to knock some of the rust off his fingers. The difference is that he was better than me in the first place.

So here I am on Saturday afternoon. 24 hours previously I was power walking round Warsaw, but now we are exchanging licks and riffs. He's a big Guns and Rose's fan, which means he's a little more disciplined in his playing than my Mudhoney style:

Considered:



Less considered:



We make it through a few songs before going off to Sarphati park for a little al fresco playing and a few beers:



It feels good to be back playing - hopefully we can make it a regular event.

Warsaw

I hope the Polish nation appreciate that given the choice of lying in bed after a long week's work, I opt to get up at 6.30 in order to get the first train to Warsaw and see some more Poland. Kurwa!!! Meaning "That's early"

I manage to make it to Warsaw for 10.30. I was slightly less euphoric than I was on the train from Warsaw to Poznan, but a cabin to myself and a few DVD's get me through the morning crabbitness

I arrive in Warsaw and Kurwa!!!! Meaning "It's hot"

It is well over 30 degrees. It was like this yesterday too - it doesn;t seem like the best weather to complete my plans of speed walking round the city. Theres already sweat dripping off my back. But I continue on quite bouncily. I've chosen Dark side of the moon as my soundtrack. I don't really know why - I must have been in a contemplative mood, It let's me zone out and put the brain somewhere else for a little while.



The first sight I see is the palace of Culture and Science. This was a "Gift" to Warsaw from the Soviet Union. It is hated, and as a result has several nicknames; Stalin's Palace, The elephant in Lacy Underwear, Russian wedding cake:



It dominates the landscape in an area which is made up of skyscrapers and building sites. The country seems to be building everywhere - which I suppose is a good sign:



I walk along Swietokryska - a modern shopping street. I'm aiming for something called Ostrogski Palace, which houses the Chopin museum and is home to the Polish Chopin Society:



It's a kind of baroque palace, built upon red brick fortifications. Maybe next time I'll have the time to visit. I notice that at the bottom of the fortifications is a small dingey(i.e. Authentic) Irish Pub; Morgan's Iralandski Bar. I can't help thinking that Chopin would approve:



From here it's a straight climb up some stairs to the old city. Everyone is stiting basking in the sun, wondering why a pasty white scotsman is marching through the city with a sweaty shuch. I'm starting to get a bit fed up with uphill climbs, 30 degree heat, and financial buildings, when I get to add another famous Pole to my list:



Copernicus - how could I forget Copernicus. He's sitting waiting for me outside the Warsaw Science Society. For those who don't know, Copernicus was the first person to seriously postulate mathematically that the earth orbited the sun. The myth of Columbus discovering that earth was round is untrue. Intelligent people had known for years that the earth couldn't be round. The Poles say that Coprnicus stopped the sun and moved the Earth.

Copernicus was a priest and as a result knew that the idea that Earth was not the centre of God''s universe would not go down too well, so he kept his book De Revolutionibus Orbium Coelestium under wraps for most of his life



The Statue, which ironically I can't see for the sun, was removed by the Nazis and only put back when someone found it on a rubbish dump in Silesia.

Pink Floyd has finished now, and I fish out "August and everything after"(Counting Crows debut) for some relaxation:



I'm now fast approaching the Old town as I strut along to the funky bit in "Round here". It's important to realise that very little of the city was left standing in 1945.(Around 10%) Hitler ordered that no building should be left standing and all the inhabitants should be killed. So every "old" building is actually a recreation. I've never seen anything like it. There are gothic churches, old town houses, castles, the lot:



Life Sucks! You're carrying a heavy cross, wearing a crown of thorns, you have the burden of being the creator's son, and still you've got to stop and give tourists directions.

By the time I get to Radziwill Palace, I am in the heart of the old town - almost every building I can see looks older than 1945. Why couldn't other cities have done this. Rotterdam could have had a tourist industry! I'm not sure what difference it would have made to Clydebank and Coventry though.

Further down we have another statue of Adam Mickiewicz - without who Polish 19th century poetry just wouldn't do it for me:



You then round a corner and catch a vista of castle square at the new town - this is really amazing, completely recreated but looks so authentic:



The colours are similar to those in Poznan, I expected the recreations to look like and american theme park, but the little winding streets are completely genuine. Helping it look the part are little old nuns walking around everywhere.

On this Square is the castle:


The castle was restored by volunteers using money from Polish expats from all over the world. You get a real sense of respect for Polish national pride for banding together recreating everything as a gerridupye.



Outside the castle is a statue similar to nelson's column in London, except this is King Sigmund the third's column. The original shrapnel scarred column lies beside the castle as a reminder. I find this as fascinating as the recreations. I have this black and white picture in my head of the column crashing down amidst smoke and rubble and terror.



The most impressive restorations are in the town square:



A great town square; sunny, lots of people, terraces, restaurants. It's very like Poznan's Stary Rynek, or Brussels' Grand Place. At the north side is the piece of wall that's pre 1945:



On past the old square, I wander through little meandering streets and wonder if the deterioration is 60 years worth, or if it was built in.

Then I take a small detour to see Marie Curie's house.



Once out of the old town, I get to the Warsaw uprising Memorial:



In an attempt to establish Polish rule in Warsaw before Stalin's troops moved in, the Poles tried to liberate Warsaw ;themselves with an uprising against the Nazis in 1944. They expected, that despite the fact they were unarmed, that they could make it a week against the nazis and this would be enough time for the allied troops to come to their assistance. Using paving slabs as barricades and sewers as communication lines(See Monument) they took the centre.

The allies never arrived and Stalin halted his troops in Prague to ensure as little Polish resistance would be left when he moved in. After 63 days of fighting, they were beaten. Hitler out of fury ordered that no building or person should be left standing in Warsaw which was why the destruction of Warsaw was so widespread.

Maybe it's partly the romantic view of Scotland as the underdog that does it, but I have a tear in my eye as I read of the courage of these people fighting for their country and getting no support from anywhere.

By now I'm walking through the area that used to be the Jewish Ghetto, and I'm listening to Badmotorfinger by Soundgarden. I needed a pretty strong soundtrack to make it through the memories and scars of terror and atrocities:



I'm starting to feel really foot weary - the early start and the heat has knocked me for 6 - but I'm so glad I took the opportunity. I've managed to run through most of the major tourist attractions and get a reasonable feel for Warsaw.

I pass an Irish bar which offers homely warmth and a cold pint. I have to stand outside in the 30 degree heat for 5 minutes contemplating reasons for a pint being a good idea, but I know that if I do it could be a disaster as my flight is soon. I soldier on. How I can feel hard down to in Warsaw I don't know.



The four pillars at the top were all that was left of the royal palace in 1945. The tomb is constantly manned and the flame is constantly burning. It's quite sombre, and I feel a little bad taking a photo.

I decide I have time for one last adventure before I'm off to the international waters of air travel. I get a lift to the top of the Palace of Culture and science where I get a view all around Warsaw:









So I make it to the airport and realise how remote I am. There is no tourist shops. No fluffy Polish Cliches to buy. No equivalent of a Loch Ness Monster T-Shirt. I am determined not to go home empty handed, so despite not likeing vodka, I buy a very cheap bootle of Sobieski, before heading off:

Last night in Poznan

After a long frustrating day, but quite a successful week, I've decided that I'm going to get the first train to Warsaw in the morning so that I can see a little bit of Warsaw before I go home. I had visions of day trip to Gdansk and Krakow, but Poland's too big for day trips, and work was such that I could never risk getting stranded.

So I wander into town for the last time and get a few photos which I had missed on previous trips. Ironically, this is the night where I meet almost everyone from the conference who I am acquainted with and get no less than 6 offers of dinner. Its about 8.30pm, and I know that after one beer I'll be there for the night. I sacrifice beer for Warsaw 6 times, while at the back of my mind think I might be taking this travelling thing a little far.

This blog isn't up to much - it points out a few landmarks which I didn't mention before.

One of the first notable sights I saw in Poznan - but took until tonight to photo is the Kaiserhaus. Our guide at the social dinner described this as " a house built by a German emperor". A better description would be a house built for Kaiser Wilhelm II. As in "The" Kaiser - starter of world war I, grandson of Queen Victoria and winner of Jeremy Beadle look-alike contests. So not some German Emperor - a pretty important European historical figure. Maybe British history is biased, the poles probably know of more German Kaisers - I can only name one.(Well Wilhelm I - but I think that's cheating)



Beside this is Plac Mickiewicz. This used to be called Plac Stalin, but it's name was changed to Mickiewicz as a gerridupye.

When it was called Plac Stalin the first protest against communism in the Soviet Bloc occurred here in 1956. In June 1956 a quarter of the cities population gathered her to demand bread and freedom. It got violent when the troops were sent in on the belief they were pacifying a German riot. It resulted in 76 dead and 900 wounded and this very impressive monument now stands as a memory of this protest:







The square has been renamed Plac Mickiewicz, a far more Polish name. Adam Mickiewicz is the Rabbie of Poland, and this is the Burns Statue Square of Poznan.

He is Poland's greatest poet. I have never heard of him, but a quick wikipedia confirms that he is indeed the beez kneez. Out of interest, this entry isn't that long:

http://pl.wikipedia.org/wiki/Robert_Burns

Mickiewicz' rather imposing statue is here:



His two most famous poems are:

Dziady and Pan Tadeusz:

"Litva! My country, like art thou to health,
For how to prize thee alone can tell
Who has lost thee. I behold thy beauty now
In full adornment, and I sing of it
Because I long for thee." (From Pan Tadeusz)

He wrote at the same time as Chopin, so I have to assume that they were mates - they were probably both in a magazine called "Dzien Dobry" at the same time etc.

And finally to cap off my last evening in Poland before I go for an early night. I do what is becoming a tradition - go to the club I ended up in the previous night and get a photo:

Back to nature

Tonight I get to see some of Poland. We have a social dinner in a country house(They call it a palace - but country house is a better description.)

We are in Rogalin, a kind of country park with a palace built in the 18th century:



The palace has been ransacked several times, prussians, then germans etc, it survived communism as a national museum and is now some sort of country park and art museum. During World War II it was a Hitler Youth school. So I imagine lines and lines of little blond people in brownshirts as we walk up to the main building.

The first activity is a walk around the palace - this amounts to one section which is rooms done up like they would have been during all the periods of the palace. This is pretty uninteresting - the history isn't particularly old, and it's a bit cobbled together.



We then go to the art Gallery. This is the art collection of Edward Alexander Raczynski. He seemed to only collect paintings from the years 1898 until about 1908. There are paintings by Basnard, Carrier, Blanche, Chabas, Claus, Zuloaga, Thaulow and the Polish artists, Boznanska, Wyczolkowski and Malczewski. It's quite nice, but I don't see anything that really fills me with awe.

I'm generally walking around unimpressed. The guidebook boasts that the surrounding forest has the largest cluster of protected ancient oaks. I decide that having given up on history and culture, that this might be more up my street. I head off along a country park, trying to avoid the mosquitoes, but ultimately giving up and going for the "ignore them and they'll go away" startegy. The forest is great fun. I've made it round everything else quite quickly, so I'm the first one out this far and i've got the forest to myself.

It's pretty impressive. It's very much how forest's look in films rather than how they look in real life. I think this is because it is Oaks. They are very tree-like trees. The first sign posted oak which I get to is Dab Edwarda(Polish for Edward the oak).



It's a nice enough tree - good big oak. Not quite worthy of it's own signpost, but nice none the less. I continue down the path to a clearing where I get a real sense of being in the middle of nowhere. The area is flat farmland - but very tranquil and still - it's such a contrast to the reason I'm here which is a meeting. Theres nothing special about this, It's a field with trees round it, but I really needed just a wee breath of nature:



I head back along the path and follow sign posts to more trees. The next set of trees is quite special:



Not only are they really really old oaks - they have a story behind them.

According to legend. It roughly goes like this - although, I've heard a few variations, and I've only been here a week. There were three brothers lost in the woods. Lech, Czech and Rus and they needed to hunt for food. They all went off in different directions and followed different prey. Where they ended up they settled forming the nations of Poland(Lech), Bohemia(Czech) and Ruthenia(Rus).

Lech followed a white eagle to it's nest where he started Poland's first town Gniezno(Polish for nest). He also gave his name to the local beer.

Anyway there are three trees that are over 500 years old and they are named after these three brothers.

Rus



Czech



Lech



Following a wander we get a great outdoor feed - basically bbq and beer. I get to have a good feed and a good refreshing Lech. Its almost hitting 30 degrees and I had walked really quickly to make sure I saw all the different trees, so the beer really hits the spot.

On return to the hotel a few of us go for a last beer, and then end up having another last beer in a club called the Black Sheep(Well whatever that is in Polish).



Still had no food I could describe as polish - met very few locals, and the only word I can pronounce in recognisable polish is Djen koo yi which is thank you.

Shiatsu - The new cannabis

After a long stressful shitty day, where the only light relief was when my mother came on msn asking for my chest measurements (I had to wrap an iPod cable round myself and then measure the length of it using A4 paper to the confused looks of the other people in the room), I needed some relief.

Traditionally this comes in the form of a beer, but unfortunately I'm here alone, and everyone I am on terms enough to have a beer with is busy. I decide to succumb(I blame T in the park) to the Shiatsu massage offered by a little set of shops within the hotel.

Being naive and coming from a country where Massage parlours and Sauna's masquerade as brothels, I'm a little apprehensive about stepping inside the frosted glass doors, based purely on the fact that it says Masiezce or something in the window which could be Massage. The huge big woman on the other side confirms that they are not prostitutes(Unless this is an extremely specialist brothel.)

I pay 80 Zloty's(About 20 Euros), and I get a 1 hour massage. If me and the Big Yin were chilled after 30 minutes - imagine what I'm like after 1 hour. I go to my room for a quick drink of water and then hit the town in search of dinner. I chose the most chilled music in my iPod - Sigur Ros' "Agaetis Byrjun" Some of the most relaxing music on my ipod:



So I'm off walking. For some reason all the colours look different when I'm outside, and I'm walking at about half a mile an hour. I won't even try to describe Sigur Ros, only to say that it's the perfect soundtrack for walking around a strange town floppy when the sky appears to have changed to psychedelic colours.

I was maybe imagining it. Could there have been hallucinogins in the massage oil? Who knows. Next massage I reckon I'm going to try a Pink Floyd Album.

Judge for yourself - I took some photos: