The 1948 Show: A Night Out in Leszno

Memories of travels in Eastern Europe, where it was always 1948

The previous post saw us in Klodzko, having had our film confiscated by an off-duty policeman.

Day 6  Tuesday, 24th April 1984 

At least with the previous evening's entertainment having been brought to an end by the closure of the hotel's "night club" at 21.30hrs, we had no trouble in getting up early in the morning for another day's exploration of the Polish railway system. The diary notes that breakfast in the hotel was "scrambled egg on bread" (presumably due to the on-going shortage of toast!)

Our first planned train ride of the day turned out to be a diesel, so instead we went for a walk round the town.

A pleasant park

Klodzko Church

We eventually left Klodzko on the 10.43 to Walbzrych, which was steam-hauled by a class Tkt-48 tank engine. Following last night's encounter with the police there are no photos of this part of the trip, although the diary records we travelled "through pleasant countryside".  At Walbzyrch we had to change to an electric multiple unit to travel on to Wroclaw.  This being a major city we thought we'd have a chance to buy some film. I don't know how hard we tried, but the diary records that we failed. We did however get a chance to see the trams and, having failed to buy film, we were at least successful in finding some beer in the station buffet, which I noted was a dark brew, unlike the light, lager-type stuff we'd been drinking all week.  There also seemed to be a better supply of food than farther south, so that kept us happy too.

Because I had no film when we got to Wroclaw I think this image must come from our follow-up trip in 1985

On to Leszno

Today had not been very good as far as finding steam was concerned and our final train of the day was yet another EMU. I recall this part of the trip as being rather tedious. The train was full and we had to stand. Despite the lengthy journey it was an all-stations stopper and the countryside was flat and uninspiring.  Having spent the first part of our trip in the south of Poland, where steam was plentiful we were now passing through a "steam desert" on our way farther north. At first sight, our destination for the day was also rather boring - the somewhat nondescript town of Leszno, presumably chosen as it was a convenient stopping point on our way to the following day's delights.

Looking up Leszno on the web before writing this I have to say it is completely unrecognisable. I rememeber a dull, drab town and one where we had some diffiuclty in finding a hotel for the night. Google Maps shows it not like that any more.

Although we might have had some trouble finding a hotel, the diary doesn't record any difficulty in getting fed. However, there then followed the usual fruitless search for beer. Eventually we came across what appeared to be something like a working men's club. There was an entry fee of 300 zloty but that turned out to be money well spent (especially as it wasn't really "money" to us anyway).

After having paid the admission fee we chose a table at the edge of a large room and tried to look as inconspicuous as possible.  Being neither a dive nor "high class" there was no beer and the drink of choice (possibly Hobson's choice) appeared to be vodka, with orangeade chasers!  I drank more vodka that night than ever before or since.  The admission fee at least bought some entertainment. A local rock band played mainly western pop music. Every so often they would take a break, when the support acts appeared. The first of these was an acrobat and fire-eater (the first time I've ever been entertained by one of those in a pub) and the second, despite the mixed audience, was a stripper!
( Sorry, still no photos, due to the Klodzko Police)

Meeting the Locals

Our attempts at invisibility proved unsuccessful and eventually a couple of the locals joined us at our table and bought us a drink. They produced  ID and said they were "Polski" obviouly expecting us to identify our nationality in return. When they were happy that we were British they asked if we wanted to change money. The £3 we had changed two days ago in Brzeg was now beginning to run a bit low so we were happy to oblige.  In the absence of a common language, negotiations on the rate of exchange proceeded with the aid of paper and pencil and notes such as "£ = ?".  I caused some excitement when my attempt at drawing a "seven" was confused with a "one" until I swiftly corrected it. We must still have given them a good deal as after they had returned to their own table a couple of their mates came over and tried their luck. However, by now we had more than enough of a currency that would become worthless as soon as we crossed the border and had to refuse.  This led to a rather difficult conversation in which at one point we were being blamed for Winston Churchill having betrayed the Poles at the end of the second world war (presumably by agreeing to the division of Europe into the eastern and western blocs).  I was going to point out that we only went to war in the first place in defence of Poland against Hitler, but thought better of it!

Eventually they got fed up and left us alone to enjoy the rest of the show.