Monday, May 7, 2007

Mazury, Day 3, Mikolajki

Mikolajki. Hub of Mazury, ground zero of weekend sailors and tourists for the region, situated as it is almost in the center of Mazury, on a narrow inlet of Poland's largest lake, Jezioro Sniardwy, where it meets Jezioro Talty, a long, twisty, almost riverish body of water. The waterfront is lined with docks, behind them pubs and restaurants of exactly the type you would expect to find in a place that depends on tourism, behind them a smallish town full of cafes, hotels, restaurants, outdoor gear shops and signs for rooms to rent. It's a pretty place, and worth visiting, but it's easy to understand why many people I talked to told me to avoid it. Overly boisterous young men drunk at 10 in the morning, small children wired on sugar from whipped cream covered waffles shrieking underfoot, tour groups parting and swarming like schools of fish, over-priced food, etc. I was glad I went, and somewhat relieved to leave it.
We arrived mid-morning, at the tiny station just outside the center of town, and made our way to the tourist office to find lodging. They were well-prepared with a many-times-photocopied list of accomodation which the lady quickly marked with prices in our range. While there are plenty of hotels, the cheapest option is a room in a private house, something almost every resident offers it seems. Eventually, we ended up across the pedestrian bridge from the center at a house whose owner spoke no English, but Patrick negotiated for us. We would get a room, bathroom access, and that's it for only 70 zloty for both. A good deal. She showed us the bathroom, which to preserve family privacy we would have to get to by going out the back door, crossing only a few feet of backyard, and reentering through the laundry room. Why she showed us this, I'm still not sure, maybe for the shower. As it turned out, the toilet we were supposed to use was actually in a shack at the end of the yard, with a sink on the outside, and pretty frigging cold. Patrick I think was a braver man than I, but come morning I got seriously constipated just thinking about that icy toilet seat, and didn't unclench until we reached Gizycko.
But that first day in Mikolajki, blissfully ignorant of toilet troubles to come, we merely divested ourselves of extra weight and headed back to town.
Our first stop was on the waterfront. We'd agreed that kayaking and canoeing were out, due to the cold, and sailing wasn't an option as neither of us had a license, so we wanted to check out the lakes by tour boat. We got tickets for what appeared to be a tour of Lake Sniardwy-that is, the sign said: Mikolajki-Sniardwy-Mikolajki. That left us a couple hours to get something to eat, and after perusing the available options along the water, we settled on the guy barbecueing sausage in a little cul-de-sac of restaurants and pubs. There was good sun when a cloud wasn't overhead, the enclosing buildings cut the wind, and he also had nalesniki, a filled pancake thing I'd yet to try. They are indeed good, but I ran into a little trouble with them. I asked for two, the guy asked me something, and, as I usually do when I don't understand but think I know what the question is, I said "Tak, tak." He must have asked if I wanted two for each of us, as Patrick had waited with bags while I ordered; in any case, I ended up with four of them, which is an awful lot, as they're very filling, full of whipped cream and fruit. One is enough to make you diabetic. This kind of thing happens all the time.
Anyhoo, after strolling around a bit, it was time for the tour. A big boat, two decks, lots of tables and chairs, a bar on the lower deck, and only half full. All seemed well. We set out down the aforementioned inlet to the main body of Sniardwy, a light breeze blowing, sailboats moving with varying degrees of success around us, a very pleasant afternoon jaunt. At last, half an hour after setting out, we reached the lake. And promptly turned around. Evidently, the sign was absolutely literal. The tour went from Mikolajki to Sniardwy and back and that was it. Our reasonable assumption that we would actually see the lake was only that, an assumption. A bit disappointed, but overall content to have spent time on the water, we shifted position to stay in the sun and got another beer for the return trip.
The rest of the day was spent in somewhat aimlessly drifting from establishment to establishment, the longest time spent in the jazz bar of Hotel Prohibicja, a 1920s themed place, with framed photos and movie posters on the walls, Norah Jones on the stereo, trading word puzzles, mostly revolving around heteronyms and homonyms. A decent but unexceptional dinner at a waterfront place, then back to the room and 15 minutes of trying to turn on the TV before the owner heard us and informed us it didn't work. That was all the encouragement I needed to decide that sleep was the only thing for me. Especially as this was also when we realized which toilet we had to use, and staying awake would only mean I'd have to go out there more often.

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