Poznań: I’m not ready to leave

I can’t get my bearings in this town.

My routes to the Symposium and regular stores look chaotic to anyone who actually knows where they’re going. My sister Jo, ever the navigator, does a lot of quiet head-shaking as I take the longest, least logical paths. She kindly blames Poznań’s flatness and its lack of obvious landmarks. But I know the truth: I picked a route once and stuck with it. No amount of solid evidence could convince my brain to reprogramme.

Today’s our last full day in Poznań.

What a surprising, beautiful city I never expected to love.

I’m writing from my hotel room, where gauze curtains shift in a soft breeze. Sunlight pours in from the terrace, blue sky beyond. We just finished another flawless breakfast here at the Fortune Old Town Boutique. In a moment, we’ll head out for our final round of gallery visits and gift shopping.

Sketching has been a goal of mine, though setting a chair on the pavement solo doesn’t feel quite as natural as it does with a group of fellow sketchers. Still, it’s not hard. No one complains. Sometimes someone stops to chat or snap a photo. Always polite. Always warm. The people of Poznań are absolute charmers.

We’ve eaten extraordinarily well, though not particularly Polish. I tried a pierogi on day one, but made a poor choice of first filling and never circled back. I might have missed something special, but there’s been no shortage of memorable meals to take home with me. The potatoes here taste sweeter, richer somehow. And if not for the dairy, I’d eat żwik every day (have I spelled it differently each time I’ve mentioned it? I’ll spell check when I get home/add photos too)

We’re still puzzled as to how our hotel ranks only three stars. It’s spotless, quiet, beautifully located, and staffed by some of the kindest people I’ve met. Honestly, we nailed it. If you’re visiting, stay at Fortune Old Town Boutique.

Today’s plan: hit the art gallery, grab some gifts for the grandkids, and enjoy one last meal at our favorite café.

Notes from the streets of Poznań

• Pedestrians rule. Step onto a crossing, and cars stop. They wait. No honking, no inching forward. Trams, however, have their own laws of physics. Everyone yields.

• Sidewalk etiquette is a mystery. Left or right? Doesn’t seem to matter. People don’t yield. You just keep moving.

• Jaywalking? Don’t. The fines are quick and expensive.

• Cyclists appear from nowhere. No bells. No warnings. They use footpaths and bike lanes, and you’d better stay out of both if you’re not on two wheels.

• Greet in Polish, continue in English. I tried. Truly. But Polish is as tough as they say, and everyone seems both proud of that and happy to switch to English once I offer a friendly dzień dobry.

• Bottle caps stay on bottles. Plastic tops don’t come off fully, they hinge. Genius for the environment, and no more lost caps in bags or bins.

• Smoking is present, and noticable to a kiwi not used to it anymore. Vaping exists, but no clouds of perfumed steam which is odd and appreciated.

• 9°C here isn’t 9°C at home. We braced for a freezing Sunday and planned a bed day. It came… and wasn’t bad. Locals wore coats and scarves. We added a layer and wandered happily in the cooler air.

• Some taxis will still rip you off. Even with official badges. Ask if they’re using the meter before you ride. Uber is easier, reliable, and visible, our go-to ever since the incident (don’t ask).

• You don’t book tables. You wait. Lines outside cafés are common. Once seated, there’s table service, and you pay there too. No rush, no tipping required.

• Rubbish bins are scarce, but the streets are clean. There’s not a lot of public seating either except in parks, where deckchairs practically beg you to linger.

• Police patrol in pairs. Almost always a man and a woman, strolling the Market Square, calm and present.

• Everyone’s fit. Stylish, healthy, well-dressed. We didn’t see a single overweight Polish person.

• Cash is dead. We didn’t use a single złoty. Cards and phones covered it all.

Poznań, you’ve been a revelation.

A place I couldn’t navigate, but somehow never felt lost.

A city I didn’t expect to love, but now won’t forget.

Freeday in Poznan

My sister and I had a free day. She went on her way to visit the Castle and do some shopping, and I tucked my stool under my arm and went down to the Market Square to try to finish some sketches.

Poznan doesn’t seem to open until about 10am so the market square is quiet and cool before then. Storekeepers have washed their front steps and put out their tables and chairs. Sounds of preparation tinkle across the cobbles, and no one seems to mind that I’m sitting at one of their tables to draw.

As the day warms up and gets busier, the symptoms of a cold I’d been carrying with me begin to solidify and I feel like I really need to lie down at home. Stupid nose and head and rattling breathing was really taking hold. My organised sister had brought cold remedies in her bag of medicines so dosed me up and my snooze really helped a lot.

We dined at another instance of a cafe we liked, they have three or four across the city. It was delicious but again the servings are really big. The Poznan restauranteur is a very generous one.

Poznań: Museums, ramen, and very berry desserts

We hit a museum today where we were asked if we qualified for the senior discount at the ticket counter. (A moment of silence for our egos, please.) Audio guides in hand, we set off on a journey through prehistoric Poland, from early tools to metal-smithing to the rise of ancient villages.

Now, this kind of stuff is usually right up my alley. But the audio tour was a bit slow and too detailed. By exhibit four I realised we’d be there till sunset if we kept at it. So, we returned our headsets and made a break for daylight.

That’s when Jo turned to me and said, “Oh… it was the Archaeological Museum. I thought it was Architectural. No wonder nothing made sense!” Mystery solved.

Eat, rinse, repeat (or not)

We’re eating our way through Poznań. Truth is, neither of us actually eats that much, but we sample with purpose. Today’s pick: pavlova with mascarpone and berries. Very berry good. Tart, creamy, crisp, worth every bite. Being New Zealanders we felt it was our duty to ensure the quality and it was there in abundance.

On the walk back to the hotel, we found our street cordoned off by police for a peaceful protest against the war in Ukraine. Calm, organised, and powerful. A moment that reminded us of the world beyond our plates and plans.

Ramen roulette

Jo’s been finding little Japanese eateries scattered around the city. We tried to hit a gyoza spot but it was closing early (Monday blues, clearly). So we wandered up the street to a ramen joint that turned out to be a quiet win: clean broth, balanced flavour, more comforting and familiar.

Contrast that with the Michelin Guide ramen place we visited over the weekend. The broth was intense, oily, and frankly inedible. It was ramen turned up to eleven, and we just couldn’t. So finding a simpler, more familiar bowl was appreciated.

Funny thing is, before we arrived I joked that Poznań’s “best restaurant” was a Thai place. Now I’m not laughing because our best meals have been Asian and French. Still, the top dish of the trip remains the humble Gzik we had on night one at a quiet little bar: creamy cottage cheese, chives, and potato, perfectly simple and totally unforgettable.