CANOEING - THE POLISH WAY
Clearly the Polish way of taking in the wonders of the great outdoors and skilfully riding the white waters of torrent and stream..! Well, not exactly the rapids of the Colorado River through Cataract Canyon it must be said, since the magnificent rivers and lakes of North East Poland are usually as calm as the eye of a storm, but a boiling caldron when, as last weekend in a mass stupor, the population of Poland tossed their paddles to the winds and their bodies from a riot of kayaks to the depths of the (Black) Czarna Hancza!
So, here we are, back from a four day Canoeing expedition, (a trip in more ways than one along those idyllic lowland rivers), and I’m in a joint state of rising damp, through days of sitting in the swamp water which became a permanent feature at the bottom of the boat, and dry rot, by way of too much exposure from the blistering heat of a desert sun above… Thank Saint Arnold then for the copious amounts of the golden stuff, and yes of course – vodka, which is, apparently, traditionally guzzled by all here when in nautical transit – this, along with the resulting amnesia this brings to ward off any apparent exhaustion; and on account of a daily exercise routine of vigorous paddling in conjunction with the sheer splendour of the majestic landscape, I refer now also to my current state of spiritual euphoria and a bearing of a bonus accruement in the form of a body Hercules himself would die for!
From virtually the first moment the tone of the voyage was set as we pushed off fully laden with supplies from (Lake) Jeziora Wigry at a mad dash, entered the Czarna Hancza where ‘Magic’, (a lone member of our small group), showed us with clear madness in his eyes how, when completely smashed, it is possible to slither backwards along the stern of a canoe, plop like an elephant seal into the dark depths and survive three metres or so of weed laden, relatively fast flowing river!
When both ‘Magic’ and a certain canoeing partner of mine, who had quickly followed Magic’s lead and dived into the drink shortly after him, had somehow managed to clime back aboard, then the first hour or so continued in a similar vane with the usual calm of the vista being interrupted with hoots of freedom, accompanied by the type of ‘bombing’ listed as forbidden in Public Pools when we were kids, and all in all can be said to have resembled a bull-bait on water as the river was filled to the brim with city escapees sizzling in the baking sun on full tanks of Vintage Polish! Fun to behold to begin with and it has to be said, a complete eye opener for an Englishman used to excursions donned in Arran pullovers and cagoule, but thankfully, due to the fact that the consumption and effects of alcohol worked its various conclusions, the hordes eventually scattered and remained dispersed for the rest of the trip to be replaced by vast expanses, silence, and on this first day, a number of hours of isolation with the rest of the day in the water passing away in pure bliss!
Arrival at our first camp brought all this crashing down to earth however in a glorious rumble of dynamic evenings entertainment as fires were started, any thoughts of nature being enough for the soul being put to one side when the demand for more booze was fulfilled, football matches begun on a jungle for a pitch and ended just as quickly for yours truly because of cardiac arrest, all followed up by a last course of stoic songs of woe sung with gusto until the early hours of the following day – As a result, for stragglers like us, the first half of next days’ canoeing past off with little more than ploughing through the calm waters and quietly taking in the scenery through shaded eyes until, given a reasonable hour, the hair of the dog was released from its kennel in the form of a couple of Mad Dogs, (for those who don’t know - a delicious concoction of Vodka, Raspberry Syrup and Tabasco Sauce), which of course did the trick in clearing the head! But democracy, which is the new Poland, and the fact that nature for the remainder of the day was indeed enough for the soul, led us both, along with Daniel and his beautiful young ‘companion’ Anna, (who we know fondly as Anananana - or that's how it sounds to my English ears :-) ) opting for an early night when we landed for the night!
The following day took in what rates for me as some of the most wonderful scenery of its type I’ve ever seen. Along with a swim in the crystal waters of the Czarna Hancza followed by a repeat mid-day singsong of Mad Dogs and Englishmen, then the day was truly idyllic and did its best to refresh the spirit until we reached the Augustowski Canal when, if truth be told, out of simple exhaustion, as the perpetual paddling began to take its toll on us all, it was nothing but a relief by then to get to our last stop at Mikaszewo! There by the lakeside we set up camp for the last time and spent some time relaxing with another gentle swim in the warm waters of the lake followed by a bit of a nap before the last evening’s festivities where tall tales were exchanged in an intoxicated, yet strangely melodic din, with the improbable sight of the most frail looking woman I’ve ever seen in my life leading in an all night sing-a-long along with Dominika who hilariously participated in bossing and poking anyone who dared to abstain! Songs ranged from the most obscure (to my ears anyway) of Polish folk ballads to a woeful duet from Daniel and myself of ‘The Smiths’ ‘Girlfriend in a Coma’, which to be frank got a reception of sheer disbelief. By the time all the remaining booze was drunk and the final refrain became a whisper and hiccup, thoughts drifted onto reaching our final destination at Plaska on the last day and gave rise to further dreams, when tucked up uncomfortably on the floor of the tent, of a safe return to Warsaw and the feel of city water from the shower to wash away four days of mildew and flaking sun tans from what had gradually become our peasant bodies!
… Anyway, a great time had by all, but don’t try any of the aforementioned at home without checking A Guide to Canoeing in Poland here first
So, here we are, back from a four day Canoeing expedition, (a trip in more ways than one along those idyllic lowland rivers), and I’m in a joint state of rising damp, through days of sitting in the swamp water which became a permanent feature at the bottom of the boat, and dry rot, by way of too much exposure from the blistering heat of a desert sun above… Thank Saint Arnold then for the copious amounts of the golden stuff, and yes of course – vodka, which is, apparently, traditionally guzzled by all here when in nautical transit – this, along with the resulting amnesia this brings to ward off any apparent exhaustion; and on account of a daily exercise routine of vigorous paddling in conjunction with the sheer splendour of the majestic landscape, I refer now also to my current state of spiritual euphoria and a bearing of a bonus accruement in the form of a body Hercules himself would die for!
From virtually the first moment the tone of the voyage was set as we pushed off fully laden with supplies from (Lake) Jeziora Wigry at a mad dash, entered the Czarna Hancza where ‘Magic’, (a lone member of our small group), showed us with clear madness in his eyes how, when completely smashed, it is possible to slither backwards along the stern of a canoe, plop like an elephant seal into the dark depths and survive three metres or so of weed laden, relatively fast flowing river!
When both ‘Magic’ and a certain canoeing partner of mine, who had quickly followed Magic’s lead and dived into the drink shortly after him, had somehow managed to clime back aboard, then the first hour or so continued in a similar vane with the usual calm of the vista being interrupted with hoots of freedom, accompanied by the type of ‘bombing’ listed as forbidden in Public Pools when we were kids, and all in all can be said to have resembled a bull-bait on water as the river was filled to the brim with city escapees sizzling in the baking sun on full tanks of Vintage Polish! Fun to behold to begin with and it has to be said, a complete eye opener for an Englishman used to excursions donned in Arran pullovers and cagoule, but thankfully, due to the fact that the consumption and effects of alcohol worked its various conclusions, the hordes eventually scattered and remained dispersed for the rest of the trip to be replaced by vast expanses, silence, and on this first day, a number of hours of isolation with the rest of the day in the water passing away in pure bliss!
Arrival at our first camp brought all this crashing down to earth however in a glorious rumble of dynamic evenings entertainment as fires were started, any thoughts of nature being enough for the soul being put to one side when the demand for more booze was fulfilled, football matches begun on a jungle for a pitch and ended just as quickly for yours truly because of cardiac arrest, all followed up by a last course of stoic songs of woe sung with gusto until the early hours of the following day – As a result, for stragglers like us, the first half of next days’ canoeing past off with little more than ploughing through the calm waters and quietly taking in the scenery through shaded eyes until, given a reasonable hour, the hair of the dog was released from its kennel in the form of a couple of Mad Dogs, (for those who don’t know - a delicious concoction of Vodka, Raspberry Syrup and Tabasco Sauce), which of course did the trick in clearing the head! But democracy, which is the new Poland, and the fact that nature for the remainder of the day was indeed enough for the soul, led us both, along with Daniel and his beautiful young ‘companion’ Anna, (who we know fondly as Anananana - or that's how it sounds to my English ears :-) ) opting for an early night when we landed for the night!
The following day took in what rates for me as some of the most wonderful scenery of its type I’ve ever seen. Along with a swim in the crystal waters of the Czarna Hancza followed by a repeat mid-day singsong of Mad Dogs and Englishmen, then the day was truly idyllic and did its best to refresh the spirit until we reached the Augustowski Canal when, if truth be told, out of simple exhaustion, as the perpetual paddling began to take its toll on us all, it was nothing but a relief by then to get to our last stop at Mikaszewo! There by the lakeside we set up camp for the last time and spent some time relaxing with another gentle swim in the warm waters of the lake followed by a bit of a nap before the last evening’s festivities where tall tales were exchanged in an intoxicated, yet strangely melodic din, with the improbable sight of the most frail looking woman I’ve ever seen in my life leading in an all night sing-a-long along with Dominika who hilariously participated in bossing and poking anyone who dared to abstain! Songs ranged from the most obscure (to my ears anyway) of Polish folk ballads to a woeful duet from Daniel and myself of ‘The Smiths’ ‘Girlfriend in a Coma’, which to be frank got a reception of sheer disbelief. By the time all the remaining booze was drunk and the final refrain became a whisper and hiccup, thoughts drifted onto reaching our final destination at Plaska on the last day and gave rise to further dreams, when tucked up uncomfortably on the floor of the tent, of a safe return to Warsaw and the feel of city water from the shower to wash away four days of mildew and flaking sun tans from what had gradually become our peasant bodies!
… Anyway, a great time had by all, but don’t try any of the aforementioned at home without checking A Guide to Canoeing in Poland here first
posted by The Slide at 5:03 pm
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