Between the Worlds
A man, huddled on a low stool, rhythmically beats a large leather drum. A thick, richly decorated coat flows down...
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polski- Countries
Jul 21, 2019
Jul 14, 2019CHAPTER 16 – YANAR DAG, AZERBAIJAN
Jun 20, 2019CHAPTER 15 – BAKU, AZERBAIJAN
Feb 19, 2017Kawah Ijen – the infernal beauty
Jan 20, 2020The true face of Iran
Sep 1, 2019CHAPTER 21 – YAZD, IRAN
Aug 25, 2019CHAPTER 21 – KASHAN, IRAN
Aug 18, 2019CHAPTER 20 – SNOWBOARDING IN IRAN
Apr 9, 2017Legends of Nikko
Jun 1, 2019CHAPTER 14 – THE SILK ROAD, KAZAKHSTAN part II
May 15, 2019CHAPTER 13 – THE SILK ROAD, KAZAKHSTAN part I
Feb 2, 2019Chapter 11 – Almaty, Kazakhstan
Jan 11, 2019Chapter 10 – Pavlodar, Kazakhstan
Apr 30, 2019CHAPTER 12 – BISHKEK, KYRGYZSTAN
Nov 1, 2018The two faces of Issyk-Kul
Dec 26, 2018Chapter 9 – Ulgii, Mongolia
Nov 30, 2018Chapter 8 – Khovd, Mongolia
Nov 28, 2018Between the Worlds
Nov 25, 2018Chapter 7 – Bayankhongor, Mongolia
Sep 29, 2019Guardian angels with Kalashnikov
Oct 25, 2018The Spirit of Buryatia
Sep 16, 2018The Two Temples of Posolskoye
Aug 21, 2018Chapter 4 – Buryatia, Russia
Aug 6, 2018Chapter 3 – Krasnoyarsk, Russia
Mar 29, 2018Thaipusam – the way of finding bliss
Apr 27, 2017The oldest barbershop in Singapore
Mar 12, 2017Thaipusam – when body becomes a sacrifice
Feb 7, 2017The Lion Dance – dancing into the Lunar New Year
Dec 28, 2017Buddhism at the hanging rock
May 7, 2017Fish Market in Jaffna, Sri Lanka
Jan 30, 2018Tidal Waves
Oct 30, 2017Damnoen Saduak – Thai market that rocks
Sep 11, 2017Maeklong – Thai market for adrenaline rush seekers
Mar 5, 2017Foodie guide to Vietnam
Dec 1, 2016Ho Chi Minh’s vibrant streets
Author Posts
Chapter 7 – Bayankhongor, Mongolia
After a rally crossing over the river in the Khujirt Valley, we finally drive onto a ribbon of asphalt. Initially,...
The two faces of Issyk-Kul
In Bishkek they told us, there is no point in going to Issyk-Kul at this time of the year. It is already long past...
The Spirit of Buryatia
“Is this your machine?” asks a young policeman, showing a picture of our ambulance on his phone. “Ours”, we...
Under the dressing of the golden steppe
A loud noise wakes us up. Someone bangs mercilessly in the rear door of our camper. Andrzej grabs pepper spray....
Chapter 6 – Karakorum, Mongolia
We are waiting in the queue for tickets to the Buddhist temple of Erdene Zuu. Among the number of locals, we are...
The Two Temples of Posolskoye
On a hill covered by a green carpet of grassland, stand white walls of the Orthodox cathedral. Metallic sounds of a...
Chapter 5 – Ulaanbaatar, Mongolia
Russia-Mongolia border crossing. In the chaos, a mass of bodies waves their passports feverishly and presses us to...
Mongolia – Intimate Conversations of Foreign Souls
A heart the size of a fist and a white sponge of lungs. A bloody liver lies beside a large stomach. Next to it,...
![[English below]
Trzydniowa Japonia w pigułce rozniosła nam głowy. Kilka lat później przeprowadziliśmy się do niej na sześć miesięcy. Kraj przez pół roku konsekwentnie i nieodwracalnie przepalał nam styki. Dlatego nie zdziwiliśmy się wcale, kiedy kilka lat później w Wołgogradzie po meczu Polska-Japonia kibice naszych rywali zabrali się za porządkowanie stadionowych trybun. Co kiedyś mogłoby wywołać uśmiech politowania i wymowny gest posuwisto-zwrotny palcem wskazującym w stronę czoła, dziś było tak oczywiste, że aż trzeba się było dołączyć. Wcale nas nie zdziwiło, że przed stadionem rzesze japońskich fanów gratulowało Polakom tak żarliwie, jakbyśmy wcale nie grali o pietruszkę. Przy tym wszyscy byli tak urzekająco szczęśliwi naszym… hmm… szczęściem, jakby sami właśnie wygrali puchar. Wymianom szalików, koszulek nie było końca. Andrzej wrócił chyba z trzema. W tym jedną vintage z rozgrywek w latach dziewięćdziesiątych ubiegłego wieku. Co prawda juniorska, ale przynajmniej na jedno z nas pasuje.
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Three-day Japan, in a nutshell, blew our minds. A few years later, we moved in there for six months. The country has been consistently and irreversibly frying our brains for half a year. That's why we weren't at all surprised when, a few years later, in Volgograd, after the Poland-Japan match, our rivals' fans started cleaning up the stadium stands. What once might have caused a smile of pity and a back-and-forth gesture with the index finger towards the forehead was now so obvious that we had to join in. We were not at all surprised that in front of the stadium, crowds of Japanese fans congratulated the Poles as passionately as if we were not playing for honour at all. And everyone was so charmingly happy with our… hmm… victory as if they had just won the cup themselves. There was no end to the exchange of scarves and T-shirts. Andrzej came back with at least three, including one vintage from the 1990s. It's a junior size, but it fits at least one of us.](https://www.peryferie.com/wp-content/plugins/instagram-feed/img/placeholder.png)