Polish Londoner

These are the thoughts and moods of a born Londoner who is proud of his Polish roots.



Wednesday, 22 February 2023

The day before



 Yesterday was the last day at work with jokes and questions from my colleagues about my departure. When I went to deliver some rejected certificates of origin to the all female department which creates them, one of them asked me to describe the route. I pointed it all out on a wall map of the world. They all stopped to listen as I ran my finger along the outward route covering Egypt, India, Singapore and Hong Kong. They watched in silent stupefaction. However, after I had covered Japan and then crossed over to the other end of the map to show the journey inwards through Hawaii and then San Francisco, Acapulco, Panama, and the Caribbean, the room erupted into a loud hubbub of protest at the thought that any one person of their acquaintance could be allowed to travel on such an extensive and expensive trip. There were plenty of jokey nut half serious offers to travel with me ("I'll check with my wife", I told them) or skip aboard as castaways. I gave them the address of my blog and told them to watch Facebook, but most of them would have preferred to follow on Instagram or TikTok. "Sorry, wrong generation," I explained. They also found the concept of 80 days of holiday hard to swallow. "Will you want to back? Will you recognize us when you're back?" they asked. "Don't worry," I reminded one of them, "by the time I'm back in May, you'll be a mother," and the room dissolved in a howl of laughter. 

That evening, tired and worn out, after a strenuous last day in the office, I tried to link to Zoom to join the AGM of the Federation of Poles in Great Britain. I was late getting in because for some reason Zoom rejected my application and claimed I was lost. I rang one of my Federation colleagues who gave me the link to try again. I was in, by which time Wlodek, the retirng Chairman, had completed his Chairman's Report. He used my late arrival to thank me for all my work and for composing and distributing the protest letter to the Belarusian Embassy. Then Alicja, much to my delight, presented herself as a candidate for the chairmanship of the Federation and was elected unopposed, while the two new young female candidate trustees, both of whom I also knew well, introduced themselves. Afterwards, the meeting went like a dream and in accordance with my expectations. So much so, that I did actually fall asleep. I woke up only when I could hear Alicja close the meeting and thank everyone for attending. At last, with that election out of the way, I was able to write a final summary report to the Chair of POSK, the organization I represent at the Federation AGM. After that I could concentrate once again on the preparations for the journey.

This morning, I got up early and remembered first and foremost to arrange our covid tests and obtain the required print outs for tomorrow's check in at the quayside.

Then, with Albina's supervision, we quickly completed my third suitcase. After that, the massive task of of preparing her packing began. Between 10 in the morning and 2 in the afternoon, she went through her wardrobe to check through all her clothes. Unlike with my clothes, which she had been buying for me over the past year by staggered internet purchases, hers had been accumulated over a number of years without her knowing what she possessd. She was digging up platform shoes from Brazil, slippers and beachwear from St Lucia, sumptuous dresses from the Polish spa in Kolobrzeg, and even summerwear she had acquired in Oslo and Cape Verde Islands. Albina has a great taste in clothes, and a love of colour, which I share with her, but she rarely goes out and so rarely wears any of these clothes. Frankly, she had totally forgotten of their existence. So, each time I would pull out another plastic container for her from storage, the contents would be a genuine and mostly joyful revelation to her. Because of her painful joints and her inability to raise her arms, it was my job to pull out and open each plastic container, so that she could rummage through it, make her selection, while occasionally trying on this or that blouse, or pair of leggings, or long skirt, before the container was placed back and followed with another stored immediately above it. This process took four hours and by the early afternoon she was so exhausted that she went to sleep in the spare room, with her three suitcases still unpacked.

Finally with some help from myself, she finished packing her suitcases at 8.30pm, a massive activity that again left her even more exhausted as she felt earlier in the afternoon. We attached the Fred Olsen and ROLcruise labels to each of the six cases and sat down for a glass of Merlot. That's a rare treat for ourselves, as we very rarely drink together. The world can go mad, Rishi Sunak can argue with the DUP about Northern Ireland, Putin can strut about the Kremlin and seek arms from the Chinese, the junior doctors can join the legion of striking unions, Shamima Begum can complain about being deprived of UK citizenship, Iga Swiatek can plough her way through the Dubai Tennis Championships, but we can settle in to holiday mode and forget the outside world. 

I will be taking the final bags of rubbish to the communal dump downstairs, Albina will need a massage after all her aches and pains from her ten hour struggle to pack for the journey, we are both going to shower, and then we both go to bed early. The limousine is coming to collect us tomorrow and we shall be ready.  

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