The trams are back on ul. Targowa. (Not so clever, though, trying to get from Al. Zieleniecka to Rondo Wiatraczna - the tracks are now being dug up on this stretch of ul Grochowska.) I arrive for my Lesson amidst a right proper storm. The wind is ripping umbrellas out of people's hands, the rain is falling with such vehemence that by the time I get to where I'm going, my suit (dry-cleaned just hours earlier) is completely sodden, all the carefully ironed creases in it gone.
July and August in Poland are Storm Months. Today was typical; a clear blue sky in the morning, the clouds would build up (piętrzyć się) over the afternoon, and by the early evening the sky would be prematurely dark, the wind would howl and the heavens would open. The temperature plunged from 31C to 17C in a few minutes, and five litres of water fell on every square metre of ground in the space of an hour.
Of course, it befits a Storyteller to be caught up in the perfect storm, survive it and tell the tale (it's nice to sit back and write about the experience now, but while I was caught up in the deluge, it was downright nasty)!
This time last year:
More revelations about the underground kebab factory
This time two years ago:
Cheap holidays in other people's miseries
This time three years ago:
Steam train welcomes me to Dobra (for the very first time)
This time four years ago:
New housing, near Zgorzała
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1 comment:
There was no such deluge in Sródmieście. I was still in my office. I looked through the window and told one of my young co-workers: Jak jest teraz pięknie. Powietrze ma kolor popiołu. She hates storms so I think she didn't share my admiration. Of course, we were both in a dry and safe place.
Yes, the sky was prematurely dark and it looked really beautifully.
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