Travels with Spaniels: Having a wonderful time in Warsaw

For much of my life people have misheard when I said where was I born, and thought it was in Poland. Actually it was Walsall, but you can see how the misapprehension arises. Now, finally, I have been able to see the city at the source of the confusion, and it's been a revelation. Our Lonely Planet guide book provides a pull-out city map of Krakow, but fails to offer one for Warsaw, as if the capital is the poor relation in tourism terms. Well we haven't seen Krakow yet, but Warsaw has been spectacular.

It always helps when the weather plays ball, and after spending time in Tallinn, Riga and Vilnius in the rain, and conversely, having to travel around Oslo at 7am to avoid the intense heat, a cold but sparklingly clear autumn day was just perfect for Warsaw. We arrived on Sunday afternoon, having decided to skip more of north-east Poland, as October had very definitely heralded the end of the tourist season, and cold nights are pushing us south. A fabulous gated and guarded car park on the edge of the Old Town meant we had freedom to wander without worrying, and could happily plan for a 48 hour stay at the cost of just £8 a night.

We decided to keep the Old Town for the morning, and take the spaniels to explore the parks and the promenade along the shore of the Vistula. We found a lovely expanse of grass, fabulous fountains which glow in a laser display at night, and a lovely river front quay, facing an eastern shore with beaches and trees. Glimpses of the roofs of Old Town promised much more to come. We had a quiet night, and woke well rested for a long day ahead.

An evening walk by the Vistula

The remains of the gibbet enclosed

Our first priority is always a walk for the pups, and by 9am we were striking out to the north, where aerial views show the unmistakable zig-zag of an old citadel. We walked around the defensive wall of a fortress built by the Russian Tsars in the 1830s to intimidate the Poles after an insurrection. Now it remains a military base, but is surrounded by parkland and there were plenty of dog walkers on the more open, western side. The eastern side, near the river, is the site of the only remaining gate, the Brama Stracen fragment, where the remains of a gibbet, encased in a monument, mark the spot where political prisoners were executed after an uprising against the Russians in 1863. Warsaw uprisings would become a theme throughout the day.

With the dogs well exercised, and with Florence in a safe parking spot, we decided to leave them to sleep off breakfast while we explored the city. We knew, before we set eyes on it, that 85% of Warsaw had been destroyed by the Nazis in a violent reprisal for the Warsaw uprising, a revolt against German military occupation in 1944. I'll say that again. 85% of the city was destroyed. And yet they decided, rather than move the capital after the war, that they would rebuild it. And they have rebuilt it, brick by brick, to such an incredible extent that the Old Town now has UNESCO World Heritage status. They used old plans, photographs and prints, paintings by masters like Canaletto, and whatever local knowledge was available, to recreate Warsaw. But it doesn't feel like a recreation. There are parts of the Royal Castle that look too new, red brick is a poor pretender, but the vast majority of the Old Town, and the Royal Way, look at least 200 years old. No doubt nearly seventy years of weathering have helped, and picking a particular date to which one can roll back the clock ensures a uniformity of design, but the market square in the Old Town is one of the most beautiful we have seen. We were blown away.

The Old Town Market Square in 1944

The Old Town Market Square today

A "present" from the USSR

Walking south from the Old Town along the Royal Way, we passed several fabulous buildings, churches, parts of the university, and statues. We popped into the Church of the Holy Cross to see the urn containing Chopin's heart. (We'd visited the rest of him in Pere Lachaise cemetery in Paris twenty years ago.) And we waved at the statue of Nicolas Copernicus. Then we decided we had time to walk to the British Shop, providing we took the tram back. We set out into the financial district, and suddenly we were faced with the most extraordinary sight, a cross between Big Ben and Battersea Power station, with frilly bits. It was the Palace of Culture and Science, a "gift" from the Soviet Union in the 1950s to house exhibitions, theatres, cinemas and any other cultural activities required. It divides people to this day, but looks likely to remain, if for no other reason that it provides tourists with an exciting view of the city. Unfortunately, we didn't have time to scale the 30 floors to the observation deck, as we had spaniels waiting. Instead we pressed on to the British shop, purchased our exorbitant jar of Marmite, and jumped on the tram, pausing only to wonder at the site of Winnie the Pooh Street (yes, really) and a shop window dedicated to Diana, Princess of Wales.

Winnie-the-Pooh Street

The British Shop: Marmite acquired

The tram ride gave us another view of the city, including more Soviet style architecture, and of course the pups were absolutely fine when we got back - warm and sleepy. But our planned lunch out had been ditched in favour of a prompt return, so we decided to enjoy Marmite on toast in the van, and eat out in the evening instead. After a good rest it was time to set off for another walk, this time with pups in tow. We headed west in search of some spectacular, thought-provoking and saddening reminders of history. Along our route were monuments commemorating Poles deported under Soviet occupation, Jews sent to Treblinka and murdered, German Chancellor Willy Brandt's 1970 visit to Warsaw when he fell to his knees in a gesture of contrition for German's crimes against Polish Jews, the Jewish people who died in the 1943 ghetto uprising agains the Germans, the wall of the ghetto, the people who took part in the 1944 Warsaw uprising against Germany... The list goes on, and soon my head felt too full for any more. Luckily we saw a restaurant serving mulled wine, and we sat outside with the pups and took solace in the heady aroma of cinnamon and cloves as we digested what we had seen.

A roll-call of Jewish first names is the only other inscription

It was a short walk back through the New Town (only dating to the 1400s) to our car park to feed the pups, make ourselves look a little more presentable, and retrace our steps to a delightful restaurant with "fine dining" food and service at High Street prices. Nick had the Bigos, which he'd been recommended to try (cabbage soup reheated multiple times with whatever meat was handy) and I had fish pierogis to start. Then he had beef tenderloin, and I had Zander (more fish) with saffron broth. It was all beautifully cooked, and our waiter, Eugene, was delightful in his eagerness to emulate the great French Maitres'D he'd spend a short time working with in Paris.

View on a morning run

After such a lovely day, it wasn't easy to stir this morning, but the day dawned cold and clear, and I set off for a run along the Vistula. Later we took the pups back to the park by the fountains for a game of ball, tipped our hats to the statue of Marie Curie, and then walked back through the Old Town. We couldn't resist one more chance to see the fabulous market square at its heart. We had parked less than a mile from the biggest shopping centre in Poland - a Westfield of course - and I was in desperate need of new walking shoes, so I then jumped on the tram to make some necessary purchases, before we said goodbye to our lovely car park guard. We drove to the outskirts of Warsaw, where we could find a Speed Queen Laundry and an Auchan hypermarket next to a Circle K garage - all we needed for clean clothes, a full fridge and a replenished LPG tank. By the time all that was accomplished it was getting late and the weather had changed for the worse, and so we are now parked up about 40 minutes out of Warsaw on the site of a farmers' market, ready to press on towards Krakow tomorrow.