First Snow.

As a Londoner snow was a rare treat, arriving like an unexpected romance and lasting just as long - I always loved it. Crisp air and dazzling sunshine, brisk walks in the park, sipping port in pubs with open fires, the shops invitingly lit up from within, cosy sundays watching old matinees.... winters were easy to enjoy.

That was then. In Poland the first snow signals four or five months of bitter sub-zero temperatures. The snow stays and the rocky pavements disappear under inches of ice and become deadly. Moronic motorists continue to tear through the unlit streets with no regard for anyone. There are no street cleaners. Polish winters are dirty, depressing and dangerous. I dread them.

Cash for corpses - the ambulances of Lodz.

Ambulances in Lodz are the scourge of the city. They terrorise with speeds of up to 120km per hour in city centres, they have unnecessarily and unbelievably loud sirens and horns which are on even in the middle of the night despite the streets being empty. They are very very aggressive and don't give a fuck who they wake up or knock down... their intention when driving is to oppress and to terrify.

Ambulance crews in Lodz (and apparently throughout Poland) had long been accepting bribes from funeral parlours to provide details of patients who had died. This went a step further when in 2002 it was discovered by a journalist for Poland's biggest newspaper Gazeta Wyborcza that ambulance crews were using the muscle relaxant drug Pavulon to speed up patients' deaths before tipping off the funeral businesses.

This practice was not limited to ambulance crews. Doctors on emergency wards in Lodz killed patients by lethal doses of a drug that causes asphyziation after the families of the victims had agreed to use particular funeral homes which then paid the doctors more than 300 dollars per corpse in return for the business.

No-one was charged with murder for lack of evidence. Two doctors were charged with 'failing to assist patients despite their condition.' Forty ambulance and funeral home employees were charged with bribery, most of whom got off and the remainder received minimal sentences.

Word of the week: Morderstwo meaning murder.

Agnieszka's empire.

Every Pole is eligible for grants from the billions that Poland is receiving from the EU, and they are taking as much as they can.

The most common scam is to claim money which is supposedly for maintenance of land or forest. One student I know receives 5000 pounds every year which should go towards the upkeep of the forest he inherited from his father, he is in the pub every night and has already bought a new car.

Why the European Union (and the UK in particular) had to contribute so much to the ex-eastern bloc when they became member states I still can not figure out. Of course it was inevitable that Britain would go into recession while Poland continues to boom. Much of British manufacturing has relocated here while a massive chunk of the Polish workforce has moved west to work for less money than Brits can afford to because the Poles are living six to a room in Zone 5. And they don't spend their earnings but send it home to further boost the Polish economy.

I have a friend called Agnieszka who courts all the important people and has become expert at receiving money from the European Union. At a recent bash of hers (champagne all round) I got chatting with the ex-minister of sport and other various high-rankers. Agnieszka owns a large university in which she claims to have 8000 students (many of them receiving EU grants) although every time I've visited it's been sparcely populated with endless corridors of empty classrooms. Agnieszka owns several other buildings which she 'rents' to her own university. Crafty. She even has a company which she has set up (renting her offices of course) in order to organise financing from the EU, her university 'pays' this company for it's services. And on it goes. Agnieszka has just bought her daughter a new top-of-the-range BMW for her birthday.

The British taxpayer pays more into the EU than anyone else in Europe. On top of that the British government (unlike it's neighbours) has had an open door policy to all immigrants from Eastern Europe since their accession in 2004. Where is the sense in it?

Happy ending.

There has been a big dog living in the park. A friendly hound and resembling something between a wolf and a husky, apparently he was dumped a couple of weeks ago and has been wandering around enjoying his freedom with people regularly leaving food for him.

Molly and Daisy's jealous growls prevented him from getting too close and thwarted my attempts to capture him. But one woman who took a shine to him was visiting daily and he was all over her like Christian the Lion in the youtube reunion video we've all seen, yet every time she tried to put a collar round him he darted away suspiciously. After a chat with her vet she returned armed with sedation tablets which she laced his food with.... some time later she was seen heaving the dazed animal into the back of her Skoda.

The door.

Poland is one vast council estate. The communists covered the country with grim grey blocks in which the majority of the population have grown up. Take away the old town centre of Krakow and the port of Gdansk and there is little left worth mentioning.

Bearing this in mind you would think that the scarce period property is highly valued but that is not so. Since they joined the European Union Poles are getting richer and are now 'renovating.' DIY has arrived in Poland. Plastic windows and metal doors are replacing original wooden fixtures. Ornate ceilings are being torn down and cornicing replaced with halogen spotlights. Panelled walls are being yanked out in favour of plasterboard, and silicone is a Polish builder's best friend.

This vandalism is not just restricted to ignorant individuals. The apartment opposite me is being renovated by the council who own it and will rent it out. I have watched daily as original tiled floors have been dug up, ceramic fireplaces smashed, windows ripped out and everything thrown onto the rubbish bins at the end of the courtyard (they do not even dispose of it properly). And this is on one of the most famous Art Nouveau streets in Poland. It is indeed disheartening.

In the staircase they dumped a splendid intricately carved door and frame, identical to mine - in fact I spent a fortune to have replicas made when I moved in as I only had one original. I supposed that the builders were waiting until they felt strong enough to heave the mighty door downstairs. It took me a couple of days but I persuaded a couple of pals to pop round so they could help me nab it. I didn't bother asking the builders as they always want money even though their intention is to throw stuff away, in Poland there is no charity and nothing is free. But the door had gone. We soon found it, however, down by their van... in bags. The builders had sawn up the stunning door and it's frame into small squares for firewood.

An older brother for Esmeralda.

Browsing the classic cars for sale on the internet (a favourite waste of time) I came across a 1966 black Volkswagen Beetle which had been beautifully renovated and looked like it had just emerged from the factory. It is extremely hard to find original and unmolested classic cars in Poland.

Of course I already have Esmeralda, a lovely metallic-grey head-turner coated in chrome and born in 1982, whom I love driving and has never given me any trouble. I do not need another car. This black beauty, however, was flawless! Furthermore, 1966 is a prized year amongst Beetle enthusiasts as it was the only year that the 1300cc engine was produced, generally considered to be the best and most suited to the Beetle (Esmeralda has a 1200cc engine).

"What do you want another Beetle for?" said my Big German Friend, "besides, they're not cool any more." He has a classic open-top Porsche 911 in which he roars around Dusseldorf at the weekends. Granted that the VW Beetle does not offer the same excitement and yet I was smitten.

Lola indulged my curiosity by driving me across Poland in order to confirm to myself that the car would be disappointing up close, potential problems, defects that do not show up in the pictures etc. But when I arrived and the garage door was opened my jaw dropped and I knew immediately that I had to have it. After some hot haggling I parted with some cash and Mike the Mechanic said he would fetch it on his truck for 250 smackers.

Back in Lodz my gym pals were surprised that I was going to pay to have it delivered to Lodz...
"Why don't you drive it back?" they exclaimed.
"Drive it?? It's 220 miles away! And this is no ordinary car... it's an antique!" But they got me thinking. Why not? I could collect it late afternoon on Saturday and drive for a few hours, then spend the night in a motel and continue leisurely the following morning. I had breakdown numbers I could call if need be, and in the event it probably wouldn't cost much more than the original delivery bill depending on where I was.

So that was it. I set out on Saturday morning having only slept 3 hours as I'd had a spontaneous night on the tiles. The 8 hour train journey was uncomfortable and tiring and when I arrived at 6pm I was already exhausted. The car felt solid, and despite my fatigue I switched on the ivory knobbed radio and settled back to a few hours on the road. I spotted a few motels but kept going so that I would have a shorter drive the next day, after only three hours I found I was more than half way. In Poland there are no motorways, several are now under construction thanks to the billions they've received from the EU. I had to deal with the usual idiots driving aggressively inches behind me and trying to cut me up on both sides, no matter that I'm driving a 42 year old car. But I refused to go beyond 60mph.

I eventually got home at 11pm, just 5 hours after picking the car up and with one 10 minute break for a coffee. I was worn out and yet exhilerated. I am the owner of another handsome car that is now named Edward and have acquired a second garage in which to house him.

Remembrance day... but not in Poland.

Remembrance Day is not commemorated in Poland.

11th November is Polish Independence Day which it regained in 1918. This is yet another of the many days throughout the year in which the streets nationwide are lined with Polish flags. Local councils ensure that a flag hangs on each side of every doorway and from every lampost in the land. On the calender for today it proclaims NEVER BE ASHAMED OF YOUR PATRIOTISM! This zealous statement is hardly necessary as in every survey within living memory Poland has always topped the list of the Most Patriotic Countries. This despite the fact that given the opportunity to leave a great number of Poles would - and since their accession into Europe just four years ago over 8% of the population have done just that.

Word of the week: Ironiczny meaning ironic.