Lundon! There's Lądek, Lądek Zdrój, yes…

One day, sitting quietly at my computer, I met Kaja. A strange chain of events led me to decide to visit her in Seville, Spain. I planned my trip so as to see London along the way — the city that has become a paradise of riches for Poles.

Everyone flies to London for work. While waiting for my flight to Spain, I'll have a look around London. I wonder what it's like there… Standing at Lublinek airport, I was reminded of a funny exchange from the cult Polish comedy Miś (Teddy Bear):

– I can't send this telegram! There's no such city — "Lundon"! There's Lądek, Lądek Zdrój, yes…

– But London — a city in England.

– So why didn't you say anything?!

– I'm telling you right now.

– Well now I'll have to go and look it up, see where it is. Bloody hell…

Sadly, the fun lasted only until I went through the gate. Just past the barriers I saw an absolute nightmare. People with bundles, wearing three jackets at once, were shoving to line up as close to the exit as possible. Things were getting interesting. It looked better than a midnight sale at Media Markt. I calmly took my place in the queue for people with priority boarding. In that queue stood one German, me, and two ladies from Ryanair.

The moment I stood there, feeling like a VIP, some elderly gentleman from the neighbouring queue shouted at me: Sir! Where do you think you're pushing in?! That's the queue with prah-ee-or-ity! I politely replied that I knew, and adjusted my backpack. I looked a little out of place. Dressed normally, not like some refugee from the Caucasus. Standing there, I listened in on what people were talking about. And the conversations were rather interesting.

– …you see, my boy has been working in London for four years now. We're going to visit him. He earns so well that he bought us return tickets.

– And mine has been there seven years. He's a manager already…

What?! He earns well? Then why are you hauling kilos of pâté and other grub to him in those bags? And a ticket from Łódź to London is about 29 złotys (that's what I paid). You don't have to be rich to buy two tickets. Ehh… The women were still bickering when the doors opened and I strolled calmly aboard.

I took a window seat and was just settling down to sleep when the rest came rushing aboard. Unfortunately. Two young mothers sat down next to me. By the look of them, about 24 years old. Both were showing off their little pink carry-on bags, which they called Anastazja and Antoniusz. Both mothers spoke to their children sometimes in English, sometimes in Polish, and sometimes just coochie coochie.

– …you see, Antoniusz can already say "daddy" in English
– Hee hee. Anastazja is doing well with a foreign language too.

People! These infants are still sucking the breast and can't talk. The only thing they can do is bawl and keep everyone awake! Not even the roar of the engines could quiet them. There was no sleeping. As we flew, I noticed (a mate of mine flying WizzAir noticed it too) the eternal pilgrimages of Poles to the toilet. The flight, the landing and a short walk to the Stansted Express passed without much drama. I walked calmly. The rest ran. Liverpool Street station, on the other hand, greeted me with a pleasant surprise. They were filming some advert or movie there. It was nice to watch.

Unfortunately London was very foggy and it was impossible to take any nice photos. Cold, fog, and very thick fog at that. All through the night and the day you could see nothing but the grime of this city, strewn about its streets. A pity. I had the impression I was strolling through Bytom, Bydgoszcz or some other godforsaken town.