When You Take a Mother-Daughter Trip to the Motherland

I knew from the start that my first time visiting Poland would need to be with my mom.

It was important for me to see it first through her eyes, to see where she came from, where my dad came from, and to let her take the lead.

The journey there from Chicago was very dramatic, though. When you’re in your 20s, you have a lot less fear of doing things.

I would at least take a beat today to think about my decision-making before getting on an airplane after what went down on our trip over to the Motherland. (I get into that story elsewhere in case you love hearing about my suffering.)

Once we got there, it wasn’t all smooth sailing, either. It sure made for some good stories, though.

Nobody said it would be easy.

Let’s start with some context.

The events described here happened YEARS ago. I wasn’t as Type A of a planner then as I am now, crafting daily itineraries and booking things well in advance to alleviate the FOMO coursing through my veins.

For this trip, the first big international trip we took together, my mom and I had some vague plans. We were to start in Warsaw, head down to Kraków, visit her sister in the small town they were both from, and, ideally, finish in Prague.

We had two weeks to do all of this.

Some of the trip was out of my control. In addition to visiting my aunt, we were also meeting up with members of my dad’s side of the family at the start of the trip. It meant free accommodations, but it forced me into more of a go-with-the-flow mentality.

If you know me at all today, this could worry you. I’m anything but go with the flow. I was definitely a more relaxed human back then.

In the beginning, there was Warsaw.

My dad was both in Gostynin, a small town about two hours west of Warsaw.

I grew up thinking he’d been born in Ursus until my hunt for birth certificates for both parents proved otherwise. (He passed away years ago, so I couldn’t just ask him what the deal was.)

Ursus used to be its own city but has since become a district of Warsaw. My dad’s oldest sister still lives there with her daughter and her daughter’s husband, who served as our guides for the days we were there.

My cousin talks very fast, by the way. I’m fluent in Polish, but it was certainly an education in some of the slang I’ve been missing.

I cringe thinking about misusing the word “pacifier” for “dragon” to this day.

Arriving mid-morning, we had a full day ahead of us if we wanted to tackle jet lag head-on. Photos from that first day helped me put the pieces together. I vaguely remember a horse carriage ride through the Old Town.

My photo history tells me we also hit up Łazienki Park that day. I’ll have to take its word for it. I do remember being nearly lulled to sleep by a classical music concert to the tune of  Frederic Chopin in the park that day.

Sightseeing done for the day, I was able to see where my dad grew up. The home is now occupied by a crazy person, per the descriptions from my aunt. I don’t know said crazy person, so can’t judge.

It was definitely meaningful to put a home to the memories of stories I was told of life in that house back in the day.

My mom and I got some mother-daughter time at Wilanów Palace the next day, as my relatives had to work. The palace is also known as the Polish Versailles and is the site of many swans. My mom loves a good swan.

We got up close and personal with the waterfowl on a super touristy gondola ride from a surly gentleman who was not a fan of small talk.

From there, it was off to Kraków. So far, so good.

Kraków is a Polish masterpiece.

Kraków is a must for any first-time visitor to Poland, and as that was me, I forced the issue. We were able to book a same-day ticket from Warsaw to Kraków.

The trip took about three hours, enough time for my mother to catch up on her romance novels and for me to take a nap. I still took naps back then.

We were supposed to meet one of my dad’s old buddies while we were in Kraków. Those plans were made casually back in Chicago, but not set in stone before we left. As I’ve already said, I was just that relaxed back then.

Both my mom and I figured we could count on lifelong family friends, but it was one of those, “Just call me when you’re in Poland and I’ll be there,” kind of conversations.

Well, that friend ghosted us.

He made no excuses when we got there. He just didn’t answer his phone. We didn’t hear from him until we were back home. There was a generic apology, and to be honest, I don’t even remember what the excuse was.

I had very little planned for our stay in Kraków, just the hotel and a general idea of what I wanted to see while we were there. That made things a little disorganized and harried.

READ MORE: I’ve been back to Kraków since. Here’s the guide!

We had been expecting my dad’s old pal to take us from Point A to Point B while we were there. It was a lesson learned.

When it comes to travel, I’ve determined that affection for a person doesn’t make them reliable, or a good traveler for that matter.

Despite that snafu, we were still able to see the main highlights in the few days we had in the magical city.

We hit the ground running and visited the Sukiennice, or the Kraków Cloth Hall, a public market. We explored Wawel Castle and climbed to the top of the Wawel Cathedral to get up close and personal with Zygmunt’s Bell.

My mom said it was good luck to rub the bell, so rub it we did.

She’s more superstitious than I am, being known to carry those blue dots around in her wallet from the National Enquirer. If you don’t know what that means, it’s for the best.

We toured Wieliczka Salt Mine and watched the Wawel Dragon breathe fire. While my mom had no interest in visiting Auschwitz while we were there, I didn’t force the issue. We have family connections to the camps that she didn’t want to revisit that day.

In any case, Kraków was gorgeous and storybook-perfect.

Things are still looking up.

The plan next was to meet my mother’s sister for a tour of where they hailed from, the small town of Goniądz in northeastern Poland.

This part of the country is off the radar for the vast majority of travelers to Poland. This is despite its proximity to the impressive Białowieża Forest, a primeval landscape that shares a border with Belarus.

We were meant to spend a few days in that small town and then continue to Prague. It was an add-on that both my mom and I were very excited about.

I had done some research on overnight trains from Poland to Prague, an easy enough proposition if we were able to get ourselves back to Warsaw at some point.

Note: I realize now that we were not conducting ourselves in the most efficient manner on this trip. That’s something that is a point of pride for me in my travel planning now.

If you want to trigger me successfully, by the way, plan a trip where you bounce from one location to another and then back to the original location with no rhyme or reason.

It won’t end well for you.

READ MORE: There are ways to investigate whether friends would make good travel buddies. Check out these tips!

In any case, we got on the train up to the closest transportation hub near Goniądz, which at that time was Białystok, the city my mom was born in. Białystok itself is worth a couple of hours if you’re in the area.

It has a cute city center and an E. Wedel Chocolate Lounge where you can kill some time.

Note: I’m not much for sweets, but drinking your chocolate is a right of passage in Poland, best experienced in one of the chocolate lounges throughout the country.

And this is where things take a turn.

Once in Goniądz, I was introduced to what I came to recognize as familiar occurrences for the next week.

There was my aunt, smoking out the window of the home she inherited from my grandmother. She had been living there for part of the year for a while by that point and still does so to this day.

She’s in the Chicago suburbs otherwise, I think. (There was a falling-out since this trip that I don’t need to get into here.)

When we weren’t watching her smoke, the neighborhood mailman would come over for shots of my uncle’s various homemade booze concoctions most days.

I want to hope that the drinking occurred after his shift delivering mail to the townsfolk was over. I can’t be sure of that.

I also spent some time swatting at flies coming into the house from the hog operation next door. The neighbor had several large pigs that were quite fun to meet until reality hit and you thought about what they were really there for.

Let’s just say that they weren’t his pets, and the squeals you’d hear on the weekends weren’t from tickles.

Yes, we ended up staying there for a week, which was the rest of our trip.

Dreams were deferred.

Any hopes of visiting Prague were dashed.

My aunt has a way of twisting things in her favor, and the guilt trip worked on my mom. We were stuck there.

It took about a day to see what else Goniądz had to offer. We checked out the Biebrza, a river and important habitat for migrating birds. My mom told me the story of a stork who’d visit my grandma every year, likely bringing newborn babies along

I think my uncle felt my disdain for the whole situation.

He took me out to see some World War II-era bunkers in Osowiec-Twierdza, a village about three miles south of town, for one afternoon. We ignored all “HAZARD!” and “DO NOT ENTER!” signs along the way.

I had to stand up for myself to see talks about a day trip out to Białowieża Forest come to fruition. It was only a two-hour drive from where we were. I’m not sure why they were dragging their feet on that one.

We made it, but none of us boasted the planning chops to check that the park facilities were open that day. Of course, they were closed. We had to give ourselves a secret tour of a section of the park where we could sneak in to meet the park’s bison.

Fun fact: There are more than 800 European bison still living in the park on both sides. Any European bison you meet elsewhere can be traced back to Białowieża.

We took an illicit walk through the forest after. My uncle served as a tour guide, relaying any signage he’d come across. My mom and my aunt embraced a birch tree at one point. They said it had healing properties.

As we spent some time in the town of Bielsk Podlaski on the way in, we had to overnight in a cabin on the outskirts of the park rather than drive back that night. Bielsk Podlaski was where my uncle was from, so that was the reason for the pit stop.

Unless you have a passion for Orthodox churches, your time is likely better spent elsewhere.

That was it. It was time to make the return trip back to Chicago. My first trip to Poland was in the books.

It was the trip that had to happen.

It would be another eight years before I returned to Poland, this time with my husband (his first time) and our traveling couple friends (also their first time). I was now taking on the reigns of showing off my Motherland to others.

It was like going for the first time because I was able to take the trip I wanted.

While we didn’t go to Goniądz on that trip, I would like to take my husband back there one day. It’s important to know where you came from, after all.

Fun fact: I also hear there’s a resort there for all of the birders who come to birdwatch at the river, so we could avoid any guilt trips if we wanted.

My mom and I have been on less dramatic trips since this one, including a fun weekend in Nashville that actually went pretty well.

Despite all that went wonky on our big trip to the Motherland, I certainly don’t hold anything against her. It was the trip that needed to happen, and so it did.

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