Herring under a fur coat 2025
There’s something about returning to Warsaw that always feels like coming home. Even after months of wandering through Europe its that feeling I get when I arrive, that Uber ride from the airport, the key in the door, the view from my apartment I just can’t quite describe it but I know I love it!
This year I was lucky enough to travel through southern Italy, sun-soaked and fancy-free. From Paris to Poland, via Sicily to Lecce, it was wonderful. I spent a week in Paris (oh là là — how could you not love that city?) and another in Luxembourg, tasting some incredible wines from the Moselle Valley. I fell completely in love with their Rieslings that region is definitely on my next itinerary.
Arriving back in Warsaw, there was so much to see this year. The city has just opened its new Museum of Modern Art, and it’s absolutely stunning, all clean lines and white space, like a miniature Guggenheim. Even better, it’s right across from my apartment! Inside are more than 200 works of contemporary Polish and international artists, a vibrant testament to the city’s creative energy, and free on Tuesdays.
Another highlight was the Neon Exhibition in the Palace of Culture. During communist times, prior 1991, Warsaw was covered in neon signs that brought colour and light to an otherwise grey world. Sadly, many were removed after 1991, and only a few survive today. Seeing photos of Warsaw bathed in neon from that era was fascinating but I have to say, the city is definitely not grey anymore far from it.
Between gallery visits, I spent time in Warsaw’s many beautiful parks. This time, I wandered through the grounds of Wilanów Palace, once home to Polish royalty a 20 minute bus ride from downtown. The gardens were breathtaking, so peaceful and quiet, timeless oh so timeless. Yet one detail struck me deeply, in a stairwell of the palace hung empty picture frames hundreds of them, accompanied by a plaque explaining that the paintings they once held were looted during the German invasion. A silent tribute to the lost masters and a haunting reminder of how art, like history, can vanish but still leave its outline behind.
And then came Armed Forces Day 15 August, a military parade like no other. I joined the crowd at the Tomb of the Unknown Warrior at the Saxon Gardens, and sang the national anthem along with everyone else. I was surprised I remembered the words as it has been a few years but it all came back to me reminding me of those early days at Dom Polski in Wellington. I then walked down with the crowds to the Vistula River two hours early so I could get a good view, stood in 32°C heat, squeezed between a Ukrainian and a Spaniard but it was worth every minute. It was so majestic I was proud to be polish that day. The day ended with a polish wine in the old city.
Another highlight of this years trip was getting time to really explore the legendary Praga, the city’s old quarter across the river. Once rough around the edges, it has blossomed into a creative enclave filled with artists’ studios, eclectic restaurants, cozy Airbnbs, and quirky vintage shops. I found a small restaurant serving traditional Polish food, seated outside on the pavement with friends from New Zealand we lingered over glasses of Georgian wine, shared plates of Russian salad known a Shuba or “herring under a fur coat”and crispy potato pancakes or placki ziemniaczane. It was the perfect way to end the day.
God, I love this city!
