Field trip

Until recently I used to think that the Masurian Lakes were a Polish urban myth. In summer, everyone escapes from the city and runs up north to spend a few quiet days in nature, in “the district of one thousand lakes”, as travel guides like to call it. Every year I’d hear at least half of my friends planning to spend a week “na Mazury” but I was never quite sure where that was or what was happening down by the lakes, so amazing as to be an obligatory holiday destination.

So when I heard there was an international ballroom dance competition held in the Masurian district, I figured it was a sign I should finally take another step towards becoming even more Polish and hopped on the bus to Mikolajki.

I obviously arrived too late to see the first part of the competition and too early to meet my friends who were still dancing (full reports of the competition, pics, videos and my random ramblings, here), so I decided to check out the wonders the city has to offer. I had to cope with the idea that there are no maps because apparently nobody needs them - true, the city is really small, but a map would come in handy, as there's more than just a yellow brick road to follow. And it’s a tough call, especially since all roads look almost identical and street lights are pretty uncommon, much like bars or any other coffee-serving facilities that are still open after 10 p.m. After a lot of walking – which also appears to be rather out of the ordinary – I finally found a Drink Bar open 24/7. The only customers were two very drunk middle-aged men and two not-so-drunk-yet middle aged women, quietly enjoying their drinks surrounded by plastic flowers and posters of football players who were probably famous before I was born. While drinking my coffee I realized that being out of my comfort zone – defined by huge crowds in the streets, full bars, cute bartenders and colorful outfits – makes me feel uneasy and that was a conclusion I was not ready for. To double the fun, I think I have overdosed on cop novels and detective stories in the past few months and, as always, fiction leaves very strong traces on my reality. Needless to say in the latest novel I translated a lot of creepy things happen in a small, dark town, with lots of bridges and narrow streets. Those creepy things usually involve young women being kidnapped, sexually abused and eventually murdered in well hidden basements. Not the best scenario to think about when walking over a bridge, hearing nothing but the wind and my own thoughts. Still, I think it is a major improvement, as I’m officially over The Book With No Name episode and vampires are no longer an option if I want to scare the hell out of myself.