Visit in Chrzaszczewo where time has stopped; by @papi.mati

This text comes from my diary (not e-version, but more traditional - a paper notebook kept on the desk shelf). It says the story from 2016 when with my husband we were traveling with the tent across the Polish coast, we have explored an amazing forgotten spot and were hosted by the old, lovely lady in her house. It's the story about that interesting woman as well as about the place where nature is overwhelming with its beauty. All the photos included in the post come from that trip and were made by us.

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Visit in Chrzaszczewo

For the last week, we have been hiking in the heat and rain along the Baltic Sea coast, spending the nights in the tent, somewhere in the forests, fields, or beaches. On the last day of our trip, we decided to celebrate the "Big Farewell" with an overnight stay under a roof.

As it is not difficult to guess, it is difficult to spend the night near the Baltic Sea in high season. We called few people and knocked few doors, but in most cases, we heard that no available rooms left, sprinkled with a bit of an indulgent smile, because reservations were already made in May while we are asking in August for something "last minute". The remaining few locations either did not tolerate the presence of our dog, "Bestia", or offered us prices so high that it would probably be cheaper to get on a plane and return to Krakow.

We were trying to not be too discouraged. We knew that in case of failure we would sleep in the tent again, or we would comfortably lay our bodies in the car. We decided to not give up though and checked few places a bit further from the sea, hoping to find "rooms for rent" signs.

This is how we got to Chrząszczewo, a small village from the Chrząszczewska Island in the Lagoon Kamienski. A barely noticeable information sign at the only crossroad informed us about a place where anyone tired from traveling can rest in the bosom of nature. And nature is not just any kind. The whole island is a protected area "Natura 2000" and at every step, we were finding the proof that we are in a special place, stunningly clean, and beautiful.

In the water, apart from all kinds of fish, there are crayfish - creatures, as you know, unable to survive in an even slightly polluted environment. Near the paths, a protected giant puffball grows almost the size of my head. Slightly bitten by ants, it seems to scream that the soil here is clean like nowhere else in Poland. Besides that, there were all sorts of birds, amazing flowers, and such fertility of biodiversity that a person like me, who used to live in a city full of smog, gets a headache because of all that cleanliness.

So we followed the sign and when arrived in front of some old building from the late XIXth century, I left the car to ask about accommodation. The door was opened by an old woman in her late 80's or even early 90's. I remember that she introduced herself to me as Lidia, Krzysiek says that her name was Maria. Let's say that this time I was right and for the sake of this text, let's call her Mrs. Lidia. The old woman was very happy that the guests have arrived and she declared that our dog does not disturb her in any way. When I asked about the price for one night, she started to think for few minutes.

"If it's one night only, it would have to be a bit more expensive, you understand"

I confirmed with a nod of the head and expected the price I have been seeing so far, which is at least 40 dollars.
After a long moment, I heard the verdict and I could not believe my ears - 12 USD for a room that could host up to four travelers. That kind of price is not easy to find in Poland at least since 1995.

Happy, I ran for my luggage, Krzysiek and the Beast, unpacked and set off on a short trip around the area with Mrs. Lidia, who eagerly showed us her garden, a field with a bench tarnished by time, wild forest in around, and a coast with a boat. The boat belongs to the neighbor who is a fisherman, but "the neighbor will certainly borrow it if you like to fish". Everything looks incredibly beautiful and I immediately dreamed to live there forever.

We returned to the house where Mrs. Lidia lived alone. The house was broken in many places but the old lady was unable to deal with it on her own. The only boiler broke down, so there was no hot water in the apartment, and when I turned on the cold water, the sink was leaking into the plastic cups below. The first floor of the house probably required renovation already in the 1930s, when the land belonged to the Germans. The grass in the garden was cut only in a small area because the lady had not enough strength to use the lawnmower. The old camper caravan, donated by holidaymakers from the old days, stands dirty in the yard. It's better to not come closer because the bees arranged a hive in it and attacked the poor old woman once. Mrs. Lidia cleans the apartment now and then and tries to keep order, but here too she has significant shortcomings and large cobwebs spread between the furniture in less accessible nooks and crannies, of course only because of her age, and not out of laziness.

Mrs. Lidia was the life and soul of the party, and although she already had considerable memory problems, although she was often repeating the same information several times, talking with her was the greatest pleasure. After a walk, she offered us butter cookies and the rest of the coffee, which she once got as a gift from holidaymakers. She sat with us on the porch, on a stool. She had only one, but she was insisting to give it to us and agreed to sit down on it only when we sat on the steps. A discussion has begun.

Unfortunately, the story of our hostess is not the most pleasant one. She had two sons. One of them died young under the tractor. The land and the house passed into the hands of her daughter-in-law, who, however, can dispose of them only after the death of Mrs. Lidia. So the daughter-in-law is waiting. She waits patiently but never visits the old lady.

The second son, at the age of my own grandparents, visits his mother sporadically. We just had a chance to meet him. Sometimes he will bring her fish for dinner, brews mint, but at the same time, he avoids mowing or repairing anything at home, knowing that it will end up in someone else's hands. His care for his mother was more considered unpleasant responsibility, not something that he really wanted to do from the bottom of his heart. He was shameless enough to tell us straight that he too is waiting for her death. This gentleman's biggest fear was that he himself is already old and he is afraid to... die before his mother because then the wife of his brother will take not only the land but also the furniture which should belong to him. After few beers he even started to plan a court trial, dreaming about owning the land such a great for making the hotel...

But let's forget about this unpleasant gentleman and come back to the story of the great lady who hosted us. Mrs. Lidia had tomatoes, chives, and many other vegetables in her garden, which she generously offered us for the dinner. Her helpful neighbor, although even older than her, brings her pickles each morning, the neighbor's son shares the fish he has caught from time to time, so all she needs to buy is bread. Not much she could afford with her low pension, which barely lasts for all the bills.

We felt sorry when the stories reveal a property in its best times - with beautiful gardens, stretching directly to the pond, with lovely farmhouse, visited every summer by many holidaymakers... she was even hosting German owners from before the war with whom Mrs. Lidia lived in a wonderful relationship, even though she could not say a word in German. The old woman smiles to herself when she remembers how they always hugged each other goodbye and how those Germans used to tell her "Lidia, sehr gut", praising her for the way she runs their former household. Now they are already dead, and their children and grandchildren are not interested in staying in touch, although the old woman declares that she would host them like family members. This is how she was - friendly with everyone. She was making us feel like we are at home.

Now and then the conversation goes back a step or two when Mrs. Lidia repeats the story she said before. Unfortunately, dementia affects her, leading to a situation where she looks at me with anxiety and confusion in her eyes when I leave the bathroom. Who knows, maybe she forgot she had visitors? My warm smile helps to reduce the anxiety, but the confusion remains.

However, these are only short moments during our eventful, exceptionally interesting stay in Chrząszczewo.

We know from our lady Lidia and her son that we were the first guests who visited her this year. Mrs. Lidia, although always prepared for tourists, has to cope with her very modest retirement. Although she is already the grandmother of four grandchildren, great-grandmother for two teenagers, mother-in-law of a woman to whom she has to give everything she has after her death, and the mother of one man, she cannot count on the support of her family. Therefore, it is not surprising that she asks now and then to recommend her further, to visit again, to tell others that such a farm is still standing and with the rest of the coffee, blissful silence, and a warm bed, she will welcome everyone.

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Few words for the end:
Ms. Lidia died two years after our visit. Her daughter-in-law has changed the house into a hotel, although not much investment was made. House remains the same, all that has changed is the modern touch: hot water, free wifi, social media campaign, the house was even rented as the scenery for one Polish romantic series. None of that will replace the coffee on the porch, the smile on the face of the old Ms. Lidia, and long, interesting stories though.

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Thank you for reading,
@papi.mati

Hotel location