One moment Rich and I were standing in the train station at Iwava in central Poland feeling lost, and only hours later we were sitting down to a three course dinner cooked by a polish Grandma, full of garden-grown ingredients: potatoes with chives, dill and cucumber salad, and homegrown cherry juice to name just a few. We are currently being lovingly hosted by the family of Ursula, Carolina, and Natalia, with Grandmother and Grandfather Wienska, the unparalleled chef and gardener respectively. We are in a village just west of Iwava, halfway between the Baltic coast and Warsaw, where Ursula and Carolina invited us to come and pitch our tent, when Ursula overheard Rich asking in the train station for directions to a camping site. The train station attendant was being outright rude, ignoring Richard in order
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