PVC Men's trip to Poland

A report about the guys' fun trip to play Jordan's Dad! by Paul Kaerger

June 22nd and half of the Leicester PVC men's squad boarded a plane to Gdansk in Poland for a new adventure. We had been invited along to Jordan's hometown of Kolczyglowy for the weekend, but with little idea of what we were going to do. It turned out to be an amazing weekend of humbling hospitality and great enjoyment.

It's funny how it works out. It started with a bit of a joke, "Hey Jordan, could we beat your Dad's team?" and then we got into planning and now here we were, on a Whizz Air jet to Poland, Chris, Geoff, John, Mike, Paul J, Martin and me.

We greeted at the tiny airport by Jordan and Michael, who was to be our driver for the weekend. We ran out to the red minibus, through the lashing shower that soaked us in seconds as we dashed across the car park) and headed south west to the small town of Bulow where we were going to be staying. The hotel was a quiet spa hotel, with a tiny swimming pool and treatment area - and they had laid on some dinner for us, all the other diners, presumably in bed as it was gone 10 by the time we arrived. Jordan's Mum arrived after dinner and we chatted and drank a couple of beers before heading off for an early night.

The next morning after breakfast, we were picked up by Michael and driven to Kolczyglowy - to the civic centre. There, to our astonishment, we were ushered in to the function room to meet the mayor, the priest, the headmaster, Jordan's Father, Jordan's fiancee ... and the rest of Jordan's Dad's team. Accompanied by coffee and cakes, the mayor formally welcomed us, introduced us to the assembled people and gave us a book of photographs depicting Poland's most beautiful places and countryside. You could tell that the mayor was extremely proud of his home town and pleased that we had come to visit.

The Big Match

After the formal welcome, we went on to the local school, where the match was to be held. In the sports hall, there was a sign welcoming us and two huge flags, one Polish, on British. There was a sound system, cheerleaders and an audience of 20 people ... we usually play in front of 3 or 4 partners at best.

After getting changed and warming up, the formalities started again. First there was dancing from the cheerleaders (girls from the local school who looked about as embarrassed as we felt). Then we stood for the national anthems and finally we were announced onto the court by the MC!

Unsurprisingly, we were a bit overawed in the first set. With just the bare six (Chris and Geoff setting, Mike and I through the middle and Paul J and John through 4), it took sometime to settle down and we lost the set 25-19. In the second, we were a lot closer, but we faded right at the end - probably due to the fact that I was a passenger from half way through the second set as I hadn't played for 12 months and my legs just couldn't cope.

  

In the third set, Jordan replaced me and we matched the polish team point for point, before eking out a lead to 20-15. We eased the set out to get a toe hold back in the match. I am not sure if the hosts decided to take it easy to allow us a set or if they misjudged us, because we blew them away in the third set with a thrilling combination of organised defense and pummeling attacks.

The final set was very close, but once the home side got their noses in front, we never looked like having an answer - the result a credible 3-2 defeat.

The after match party

After a quick shower and a meal at the school, we went off to the local river to do some kayaking. Yes, we were going to kayak in the same river that Pope John Paul II used to as a young man - there was even a large stone and plaque to commemorate the fact.

We waited for the latest flash storm to roll over head and drank a beer and a vodka, then, when the weather had cleared, we donned our life jackets and clambered into the kayaks. Of course, it was all expertly done and Mike and I really did mean to beach ourselves within 10 seconds of setting off ... and we really did mean to get ourselves entangled in that tree, hit the bank ... you get the picture. We paddled along the twisty river for an hour, then it opened out into a slower river and finally we reached our destination. Having never kayaked before, I found it quite relaxing and fun, and sliding between wooded banks was very chilling!
 

After the paddle, it was off in the minibus to a holiday camp nearby where we settled down to a barbeque and one or two vodkas with the host team. Well one or two turned into three or four ... or in Martin's case 10 or 12 and he was soon feeling mighty unwell.

We all managed to drink loads and chat away the evening with our hosts in a mixture of broken English and sign language! We were dropped off at the hotel in the late evening. Martin and I went off to bed, both much the worse for wear, whilst the others went off in

search of more food and alcohol ... I think they crawled back in about 3 o'clock, which was a good effort by the old boys!

Sunday

Well I felt soooo rough the next morning. Martin, who had drunk enough vodka to sink a Polish warship was bright and breezy!

I missed out on the trip to Bulow castle as I tried to stop being ill, but then we all checked out of the hotel and went off to Jordan's parents for a midday meal. Many thanks to Jordan's mother and father for feeding us so well. Some of the Polish team turned up looking a bit sore as well, which strangely cheers us up .. wasn't that we were soft Brits!

After dinner, we said our good byes and headed back north to Gdansk where we spent the evening wandering around the street, gazing a the fine buildings (and not at the fine looking young Polish women).

The flight home was dreadfully early ... we had had an amazing time, made some good friends and learnt a lot more about Poland ... and a little bit of the language.

Many, many thanks to our hosts. Now all we have to do is find a way of repaying such hospitality when they come over here!

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