polski
Autumn gilded Bishkek. Golden leaves fall from trees. Golden yarn of sunrays envelops streets, buildings and people. Jackets of Saturday strollers glisten with golden embroidery. Among all the people – he. Very elegant. A black vest on a lilac shirt. A dark tie tied in a large knot. Long hair falls on his shoulders from […]
We almost give up on Astana (renamed to Nur-Sultan in March 2019). The capital of Kazakhstan, which we reach at night, does not impress us at all. The day brings the sight of grey, large-slab blocks of flats, dilapidated and dull post-Soviet buildings, collapsing pavements. And then we cross the bridge connecting north and south, […]
From Mongolia, we drive directly onto the Chuysky Trakt. Were it not for the fact that smooth asphalt stretches under our wheels, and the landscape would not indicate that we have already entered Russia. The boundless azure sky stretches above us. The heavy cottonwool of snow-white clouds lies on the rocky mountain slopes with spots […]
After all the action of digging out our unfortunate motorhome, we stopped in Mongolian paradise. Over a mountain stream not too wide, not too deep, with a flat and cushy shoreline of a meadow. Above the crystal sash of the stream rise the mountains – mighty, with peaks hidden under snow caps. In the morning, […]
Almost a week has passed since we set our camp in Bayankhongor. Each day here brings new surprising events and most amazing people. But it is time to move on. On the eve of our departure, we try to get everything ready for the road: the most critical part – the route. With no proper […]
A man, huddled on a low stool, rhythmically beats a large leather drum. A thick, richly decorated coat flows down his shoulders. The man’s head – hidden under a pointed hat with feathers – sways steadily to the beat. From under the veil of black tassels covering the face, comes an ever faster and louder […]
![[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.
-----
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)
Comments are closed.