501 Places

Chatting with the locals

If knowledge is power, then what value should we place on covert intelligence? It is not only military chiefs who would like to have access to certain furtive conversations. We are all spies at heart, and I defy anyone to say that they have never listened in to a conversation on a bus, at a restaurant or even in their own office. The best eavesdropping is done when the target either cannot see that you’re there at all, or is certain that you can’t hear them.

Listening in is so much more rewarding when you are able to understand a language that others don’t expect you to get. I grew up in Nottingham in a Polish-speaking home, at a time when there were far fewer Poles in the UK and most of them knew one another. As a result we could travel as a family on the bus, and if my mother wanted to say something to us that was only for our ears it was very straightforward. Whether it was about the shifty man who had just boarded or the unpleasant smell that surrounded us as a result of another passenger, we were confident in the knowledge that our talk could not be deciphered.

Nowadays that knowledge of Polish is even more useful, albeit for very different reasons. If we sit in Wagamama (do they really have a Poles-only recruitment policy?) I can enjoy the chatter of the kitchen staff, the frustrations of the waiters and the banter and flirting that goes on between them all. Armed with an Indian wife, I must look like the least likely person to understand Polish and so their guard is down. Similarly in most UK hotels and B&Bs where the staff are invariably Poles, it’s easy to listen to their chit-chat, spoken in the loud voices of those who know that no-one can understand what they are saying.

In Poland too, when I have sat in a cafe and listened to British tourists getting frustrated with the staff and the staff cursing them behind the safety of the language barrier, I’ve observed with passive curiosity while having the fortune to hear both sides of the arguments.

I am very lucky to have been brought up to speak two languages from an early age. It’s so valuable to know even a few words of another language, especially when travelling through that country, even if only for a short trip. And I reckon the more obscure the language, the better. Why bother with Spanish or French when you can learn Quechua or Kyrgyz?

At one extreme of linguistic ability, you will be able to mix fully with the local Albanian/Estonian/Tajik folk and astound all as you regale them with tales of home, while at other times acting the ignorant tourist and hearing many fantastic things said about yourself. At the other extreme, even a few well chosen greetings will be enough to make sure that no-one is comfortable speaking about you in their own tongue, for fear that you know too much.

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I talk to lots of people who are going to Poland this year, or who have just been. When I ask where their trip takes them, 90% will be heading to Krakow and taking day trips around the city.

As the country’s capital, Warsaw (Warszawa) has played the role of poor cousin to Krakow for many years. While millions of visitors have flocked to see the old wonders of Krakow in recent times, fewer have taken the opportunity to visit one of Europe’s most vibrant capitals. In fact being an ethnic Pole I must confess to a limited experience of the city myself; and that’s a shame, as this city does offer a lot for those make the effort.

Last year I visited briefly for the first time in 10 years while on my way to Belarus. It’s true, Warsaw’s suburbs are grey and typical of the residential construction that took place during the communist era. These create a rather gloomy entrance to the city whichever way you arrive. But once in the old city, completely rebuilt after 1945 and reconstructed in line with its original appearance, you enter a photographer’s dream. Narrow alleys, tall town houses and picturesque squares around almost every corner. The old market square is the centre-piece of the city, and this is where most of the tourist congregate. It’s a pretty square, and I was lucky to view it in the early morning when it was pleasantly quiet, before the over-priced cafes opened their doors to the throngs of visitors.

Breaking away from the square in mid-morning, in only a moment’s stroll I was able to sit high above the Vistula river and enjoy views of the city with local people enjoying a break from their work. In the other direction within a few minutes I was enjoying a walk along the old city walls around the distinctive round structure of the Barbican.

The city is so different to how I remember it as a child. Perhaps the greatest contrast of new Warsaw is the giant shopping and leisure complex built next to the central station, and ironically also beside the old Soviet skyscaper, the Palace of Culture. Inside this mall you can find the same brands and stores that you will see in every major mall in the world, a somewhat depressing sign (at least to me) of the way that mass retail is eroding the individual experience of shopping in different countries.

My visit was only a fleeting one, but I did have a chance to see how sophisticated Warsaw’s dining options have become. From the seventies cafeterias that we were restricted to on childhood visits, there are now sushi bars, Thai food, tapas bars, in fact almost anything you fancy. I was drawn however to a restaurant that specialises in the Polish favourite, pierogi. Stuffed pastry parcels, looking a bit like oversized ravioli, they are traditionally filled with cabbage, potato and mushroom. At this restaurant (Pierogi Swiata, which translates to pierogi of the world) you could eat these Polish treats with Jamaican, Chinese and Indian fillings, among others.

Warsaw is a short trip from the UK, and is certainly worthy of a weekend break. There is enough history, culture and architecture to keep you interested for a couple of days, and with shopping and dining options now offering so much variety, everyone will find something to their taste.