Poland

Destination

Polska

Poland

I knew nothing about it.

15 stories · Warsaw · one month · September 2018

Poland was the third country of my backpacking trip, after Greece and Spain, and the only one I chose because I could not tell you a single thing about it. I arrived on a one-way ticket with no Polish and, as it turned out, no idea what the currency was. A month later I was sprinting through the wrong airport with three minutes to spare.

Stare Miasto, the part of Warsaw I kept coming back to.
30Days in
Warsaw
Inside this journey

Nine chapters, in the order they happened.

Fifteen posts, written between 2018 and 2020, grouped here the way the month actually ran — from a difficult first night in a suburb I could not find my way out of, to a plate of pierogi I still think about.

01
The decision

I picked the one country I could not tell you a thing about.

Decyzja
First look at Poland, from somewhere above it.

After the tomato fight in Buñol it was time to move on from Spain. Jorge was running out of days before his Masters started in Madrid, and I had to choose a third country. It was the hardest decision of the trip so far, because whatever I chose, the two of us were about to be thousands of miles apart again.

I ruled it out and ruled it back in. Poland was cheap to fly to, cheap to live in, and I had never been to that part of Europe. And there was one more reason, which I put in the post at the time and still think is the best reason I have ever had for going anywhere:

“I had no idea what the country was all about and I hated that I knew so little about its history. That was exactly how I decided Poland was where I needed to go next.”

My travel triangle. Distance was clearly not a top consideration.

The route by that point made a very odd triangle across the continent — Athens, then Spain, then straight up to Warsaw. I was choosing countries on curiosity, cost and whether I thought I would feel safe, not on where they happened to be.

The first thing I noticed about Poland I noticed from the plane: the greenery. Trees and parks everywhere, far more than I was used to at home. It helped, a little, with the anxiety that was building as we came down.

02
A rough start

The first two days went badly. All of them.

Trudny początek

I booked a month in one Airbnb because it was cheap and because I knew I would need time to readjust to being on my own again. Then I checked in and realised where it was.

“I was so far removed from civilization that I found it hard to believe I was even ‘in’ Warsaw.”

Trees and retirees in every direction, no working data on my phone, no idea where to buy food. I walked a path lined with nothing but trees, crossed a bridge, and eventually found a supermarket. That is where the evening got worse.

Pretty. Also nowhere near anything.
The till

The cashier rang up my items and said a number followed by a word I did not know. I was already holding a twenty euro note.

“Huh, excuse me? Did you say ‘swoty’? I’m sorry, do you speak English? …Oh my goodness, is ‘swoty’ your currency in Poland?”

It is. The złoty. Poland is in the European Union and has never been in the eurozone, and I had flown there without knowing. My travel credit card saved me. The cashier then spent a full minute comparing my signature to the back of the card — nobody in Poland signs anything, the chip-and-PIN there was years ahead of what I had — and handed me my bag with a parting line I have never forgotten.

“You may have problems here in Poland.”

I walked home in the cold nearly wanting to cry. It was also the first day I had spent apart from Jorge since Greece, which did not help.

I love flying all the way to Poland so I can eat some Indian food.
Day two

I found a small Carrefour Express much closer to the flat, which would have saved me the entire walk the night before. Inside, every label was a wall of Polish. I translated cooking instructions with my phone and left with a basket containing lentil soup, chicken tikka masala, chicken vindaloo and a vegetable curry, plus one tub of barszcz I bought purely because it looked easy.

That night the only restaurant I could find open within walking distance was Indian. So I walked twenty-five minutes to eat the same chicken tikka masala that was already sitting in my fridge. I have made peace with this.

“When will I get to finally try some authentic Polish food?”

03
Learning Warsaw

Then I found the Old Town, and the city started to make sense.

Stare Miasto

The Old Town is the first place most people go in Warsaw, and it became the place I kept going back to. Squares, pastel fronts, a castle, a column. What took me a while to understand is that almost none of it is old.

UNESCO inscribed the historic centre in 1980 for exactly that reason: more than 85 per cent of it was destroyed during the 1944 Uprising, and then rebuilt over five years by the city’s own citizens, working from paintings, photographs and memory. You are walking through a reconstruction, and that is the point of it.

Sigismund’s Column has stood in Castle Square since 1644, put up by Władysław IV for his father, the king who moved Poland’s capital here from Kraków in 1596. It was badly damaged in the war too. It was also rebuilt.

The Syrenka — the sword-and-shield mermaid on Warsaw’s coat of arms. She is all over the city once you start looking.

Shelf archaeology

Three brands I almost did not recognise.

A T.K. Maxx storefront in a Warsaw shopping centre
T.K. Maxxis T.J. MaxxRenamed outside the United States to avoid confusion with the British retailer T. J. Hughes. The European HomeGoods is HomeSense.
A bag of orange Vizir laundry pods on a Polish supermarket shelf
Viziris TideI thought it was a knock-off. It is the real thing. Tide is Ace in South America, Daz in the UK, Alo in Turkey, Fab in Hong Kong.
Vizir and Tide boxes side by side for comparison
Pan Properis Mr. CleanPan is Mr. Mr. Clean is Don Limpio in Spain, Flash in the UK and Ireland, Meister Proper in Germany.
04
The reunion

One weekend left, so we spent it here.

Spotkanie

I had been in Warsaw a week or two, learning how the city worked, when Jorge messaged to check in. We worked out that he had exactly one free weekend before his Masters started. Flights from Spain were cheap.

“Screw it, let’s meet again.”

He came for four days and it changed the whole month. I wrote afterwards that it was the highlight of my stay, and that from the day he arrived I had a much more favourable outlook on Warsaw. All it took was a little familiarity. He introduced me to a friend of his who lives in Poland, we spent an afternoon in a cafe in a very hipster neighbourhood, and I had the first proper matcha since I left the States. Then the outdoor market we went to got rained out.

One of the best cups of matcha I have ever tasted… was in Poland?

There is a line in that post I still stand by, and it is the honest version of what a month alone in a city where you know nobody is actually like:

“I’m an introvert so my own company is usually more than enough but day after day of not seeing a single familiar face can get tough.”

The goodbye at the end of those four days was harder than the one in Spain had been, because by then I had nearly used up my 90 days in the Schengen zone and could not follow him back. That detail turns up again in the last chapter, in the worst possible way.

05
The neon

A warehouse full of Cold War light.

Neony

With one free afternoon, Jorge and I went to the Neon Muzeum — the largest collection of Cold War era neon signs in the world. The museum hunts these signs down, and whenever one surfaces it tries to get hold of it so it can be rescued, restored and lit again.

My favourite was the tall Mydła i Farby sign, roped off with a warning not to touch it. I looked it up afterwards. It advertised a Soaps and Paints shop that never opened. The sign hung for decades pointing at a business that did not exist.

“Signs are symbols. With time, they become landmarks that we recognize and orient ourselves with.”

Entry was 10 zł in 2018, about two dollars fifty. It is one of the best cheap hours in the city.

The whole room hums.
Have a go

Switch on the neon.

Eight signs drawn the way Warsaw’s were: bent tubing, one animal, one arrow, one word. Nothing here copies a real sign — these are my own, in the same idiom. Flick them on.

8 of 8 lit
WARSZAWA

Warsaw ran a whole programme of it. Neonizacja put light on the rebuilt streets after the war.

The rooster

Shops, bars and cinemas each got their own creature. The museum hunts them down when one surfaces.

Kwiaty

Kwiaty means flowers. I photographed the real one; this is a drawing in the same idiom.

Kawa

Coffee. The tubes were bent by hand, and a restored sign is bent by hand again.

The arrow

Half of these signs were directions. Turn here. Down the stairs. Open late.

The elephant

An outline animal in glass tubing, the kind of thing a state enterprise commissioned in 1960.

The star

When a sign is rescued it is cleaned, rewired and lit again rather than left dark.

Bar

The museum is the largest collection of Cold War era neon signs in the world.

One thing to know before you go: the museum has moved. It is no longer at Soho Factory where I saw it — since July 2025 it has been on the fourth floor of the Palace of Culture and Science. Details are in the planning panel below.

06
The birds

I went to Poland and fell for the corvids.

Ptaki

I lived beside a huge park, and there was a black-and-white bird everywhere I looked that I could not name. It resembled a crow, and it clearly was not one. It was a Eurasian magpie, and it is one of the most intelligent animals on the planet.

Magpies are one of the very few species other than humans to pass the mirror test for self-recognition — the club is great apes, dolphins, orcas, one elephant, a cleaner wrasse, and this bird. They are also extraordinary mimics. And when one finds a dead magpie it calls until dozens gather, and they vocalise together for up to fifteen minutes before flying off in silence.

“They resembled ravens or crows, yet somehow they were different.”

Sroka — Pica pica. Which, as I noted at the time, gives me Pikachu vibes.

The crow

I always carry food for birds. Birdseed was hard to find in Warsaw, so I bought a packet of unpopped popcorn kernels at a supermarket and fed the pigeons with those on my way out each morning. The magpies stayed well back. Then one morning a hooded crow dropped in and started loading its beak with as many kernels as it could hold.

I watched it walk about pushing its beak into the ground and assumed it was after insects. Then I saw a yellow kernel disappear into the mud. It was not foraging. It was hiding them, one at a time, and then flying off.

“It was so intentional and strategic.”

Crows cache food routinely and remember exactly where they put it, even buried. I had read that. Watching it happen a metre away is a different thing entirely.

The regulars. Every morning, corn kernels, no questions.
And the two black circles

The last one was smaller. Red-and-black insects were all over the pavements and I could not identify them. I searched “black and red insect with two dots on its back” and got ladybirds. Then milkweed bugs, which were close but wrong. Then box elder bugs, also wrong. Jorge suggested a name that turned out to be stink bugs, which I closed immediately, because I am genuinely afraid of stink bugs in flight.

Then he sent a screenshot of the answer at the same moment I was sending him my comparison chart. European firebug, Pyrrhocoris apterus. After that I smiled at them every day.

07
After dark

The best night out I have ever had.

Nocą

Warsaw in 2018 was a city where Jorge and I went around looking like two friends travelling together, and that constant alertness is tiring in a way that is hard to explain. I wrote it plainly at the time: as a gay couple’s trip, Warsaw would not be my first pick.

And then there is the other half of it, which surprised me completely. We searched for gay bars and found almost nothing on the map. One place, Lodi Dodi, whose entrance was so wrapped in construction that we nearly walked away before spotting the side door. The bartender there sent us on to Metropolis Warszawa.

“Metropolis was the best gay club I’ve ever visit. Ever.”

My theory, then and now: when it is harder to be yourself in daylight, the weekend does more work. Everyone dropped their guard at once. It was the most welcoming room I have ever danced in.

Metropolis, and a room that had been waiting all week.
We thought it was closed. There is a side door.
Then I went back on my own

A few weeks later, on a Friday, I decided to go out alone for the first time in my life. I picked Metropolis precisely because I had already been there and could picture the inside, which made the queue survivable.

“An introvert… clubbing solo. Something about that sentence almost seems paradoxical.”

I got there far too early. Empty bar, a few groups on a sofa, nobody on the dance floor. I read the drink menu three times to make ordering last as long as possible, got a tatanka — vodka and apple juice, sometimes called a Polish Kiss — and refused to look at my phone, because a phone makes you look less approachable and I had come to meet people.

Then it filled up all at once, and the whole place changed in about four minutes. I am still in touch with one of the guys I met that night.

What I wrote in 2019 is not the whole picture in 2026. Some of it has changed a great deal and some of it has not moved at all — there is a sourced summary in the planning panel below.

08
The table

And eventually, a great deal of pierogi.

Do stołu
Zapiecek. This is the correct amount of fried onion.

The chicken tikka masala phase did not last. By the end of the month pierogi were a staple, and the thing that genuinely surprised me was how many kinds there are.

Savoury is what you expect — potato and cheese, cabbage and mushroom, meat, fish. Then I found strawberry ones in a supermarket freezer, and blueberry ones that come out of the pot an unapologetic purple. Sweet pierogi are not unusual at all; raisins and cottage cheese are standard fillings.

“Something I learned in Poland is that there are so many different kinds of pierogies!”

My restaurant was Zapiecek Polskie Pierogarnie, and the thing I recommend by name is the salmon pierogi with Camembert. A plate was 30 to 38 zł in 2018, roughly eight to ten dollars.

Fill the plate

Six fillings, all of them correct.

Potato and cheeseRuskieThe default, and the one on almost every menu in the Old Town. Boiled, then fried in butter if you ask nicely.
The other nine

Ten things I would tell you to eat and drink.

Boiled pierogi on a patterned platePierogiDumplings
Bottles of Zubrowka bison grass vodka on a shelfŻubrówkaBison grass vodka
Grated beetroot cooking in a panBarszczBeetroot soup
A box of Krowka Prawdziwa Polish fudgeKrówkiLittle cows
A rose-flavoured paczek held in a bakery bagPączkiRose doughnuts
A spinach and cheese naleshniki crepe on a plateNaleśnikiCrepes
A glass of black tea with rum and clovesHerbata z rumemTea with rum and cloves
A tin of Sliwka Naleczowska chocolate covered plumsŚliwkaChocolate plums
A bottle of Polish meadMiód pitnyDrinkable honey
Polish sausage cooking on a grillKiełbasaSausage

Żubrówka is the one worth knowing about: the bottle with the blade of bison grass in it cannot legally be sold in the United States, because the grass contains coumarin and US food rules still prohibit it. What you buy at home is a coumarin-free rye version. If you want the original, you have to go to it.

09
The last day

A very narrow house, and a very bad morning.

Ostatni dzień
Not the building on the left. Not the one on the right. The bit in between.

I spent my last day at the Keret House, the narrowest house in the world: 60 inches across at its widest and 36 at its narrowest, slotted into what used to be an alleyway between Chłodna 22 and Żelazna 74.

It is officially an art installation, because it does not meet Poland’s residential building code, and it is lived in anyway. Two floors, a bedroom, a kitchen, a bathroom, a ladder between levels, and a retractable staircase that becomes the living area when it folds away. It is named for the Israeli writer Etgar Keret, its first tenant, who has said staying there is like a memorial to his family; both his parents’ families died when Nazi Germany occupied Poland.

The architect Jakub Szczęsny chose the spot deliberately. It sits where a pre-war brick building meets a post-war concrete block, and where the large ghetto and the small ghetto met. A footbridge between the two sealed areas stood a few steps away.

A live transcript of my composure.
Departure day

My 90 days in the Schengen zone were nearly gone, so I booked a flight out in a hurry and picked Croatia. I went to Chopin airport early, planning to check in, find the gate and have a sandwich. I could not find the Ryanair desk. I circled every counter. I checked the self-service screens. Nothing.

“Sir, I’m afraid RyanAir is only located at Warsaw’s Modlin Airport.”

Modlin is a different airport, 40 kilometres out. My boarding pass said so. I had told myself “Chopin” so many times that I had read straight past it. Jorge had flown out of Modlin days earlier, so I knew perfectly well both existed.

Second Uber, motorway accident, standstill traffic, one check-in agent working a long queue. I arrived at 12:35 for a gate that closed at 12:55. Modlin is tiny, which is the only reason this story has a happy ending. I boarded at 12:52.

Before you go

Plan your own month in Warsaw.

My trip was 2018, so every price in the stories above is a 2018 price. Here is what I could verify for 2026, with the sources, including one thing that has moved and one thing you can no longer book.

Then and now
What20182026Note
Neon Muzeum, adult entry10 zł25 złand the museum has moved – see below
Pączek at Cukiernia Pawłowicz3.5 złstill open, price unconfirmed
Pierogi plate at Zapiecek30-38 zł25-36 złmenu listing dated Dec 2025
Naleśniki, two, city centre26 zł—Gościniec, Old Town
Keret House, 15-minute tour25 złno regular toursfree to see from the street
Single tram or metro ride—4.40 zł75 minutes, Zone 1

About 3.77 zł to the US dollar in September 2026.

The currency is the złoty, not the euro.

Poland is in the European Union and not in the eurozone. About 3.77 zł to the US dollar in September 2026. Cards are accepted almost everywhere and contactless is the norm.

XE
90 days in any 180, and the stamp is gone.

US passport holders still enter Poland visa-free for up to 90 days in any 180-day period across the whole Schengen area. Since 10 April 2026 the EU Entry/Exit System has been fully operational, so your face and fingerprints are registered at the border instead of your passport being stamped.

European Commission
ETIAS is coming, and it is 20 euro.

The EU travel authorisation is not live yet. It is expected in the last quarter of 2026, with a transition period after launch. The fee was raised from 7 to 20 euro in July 2025, and plenty of guides still quote the old number.

European Commission
There is no Polish digital nomad visa.

Remote workers use a temporary residence permit for self-employment, a D-type national long-stay visa, or Poland Business Harbour if they qualify. For a month like mine, visa-free entry is the whole answer.

RemoteTaxCalc
The journey continues

Next stop: Croatia.

Warsaw was the hardest month of the trip and the one I quote the most. I arrived knowing nothing, which was the entire point, and left with a currency I could pronounce, a bird I could name, and a very firm opinion about salmon pierogi.

This month took place in September 2018, and the fifteen posts were published between 2018 and 2020. The stories describe that trip; prices, venues and opening hours in them are 2018 prices. Everything labelled 2026 above is sourced and linked.

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