Journey to Poland

I arrived on Monday night, just a few minutes before midnight. Back in Scotland the weather wasn’t too great so I was wearing a t-shirt, a shirt and my spring-summer-autumn jacket. Even though the plane was taking off in the evening, I waited until the last minute to pack, prepare food for the journey and, what was most important, to print out my check-in pass. So I went to the library near the place where I live but all the computers were being used and despite my waiting, I didn’t get to use a computer as they soon all switched off because they were about to close the library. I decided I’d go back home, get my luggage (one rucksack in total) and go to the uni to print it there. My card didn’t work (it had expired some days earlier) but I managed to convince the security guy to let me in anyway. Once at the computer, it turned out I couldn’t even log on into the system anymore so I had to ask the guy who was sitting next to me to print the thing. He agreed and I quickly ran to the underground station and then met Paulina there for a quick fag and a chat. We said goodbye and I took the train to the airport.

The journey went smoothly except for those few Polish women who spoke loudly and swore a lot, I think they not only annoyed me (who could understand what they were saying) but also other passengers. I managed to have another cigarette outside the airport and then rushed through the security and what have you to finally reach the waiting lounge. That place is quite disorganised and until I noticed that that the part of the gate which was for passengers flying to Gdańsk was already empty, I stood in the queue for Lanzarote. I was told to hurry so I ran along the long corridors thinking that I was going to miss the plane or, at best, that I won’t find a good seat on the plane. Neither of them happened. The plane was still on the tarmac and plenty of places were free so I sat (as always) by the window. The only annoyance during the flight were the crying children (honestly, it was like a choir from hell). I’m not sure if the girl sitting next to me (she was 4) and who was asking me lots of questions and calling me uncle was sweet or irritating. I think both.

After landing and getting off the plane, when I was still on the steps, I experienced something I hadn’t felt in all too long a time. The air was warm, it felt nice (don’t know how to explain this) and it smelt of grass, trees or something like that. It was just perfect and a pleasure to breath. My mum and a neighbour who was our driver were already waiting for me and, because I didn’t have luggage, I was the first person to leave the so called airside of the airport. While driving home, I noticed a much bigger presence of the Kashubian language and identity in the public sphere than before: there were bilingual place-name signs, Kashubian flags and even a company with a Kashubian name!

I don't know how long I'm going to stay here. It could be weeks or even months but I will have to go back to Glasgow at some point, even if it's just to collect my stuff.