Flea markets really don’t exist in Utah. We have a plethora of enormous thrift stores {my favorites are Deseret Industries and Savers}, and we have crappy yard sales aplenty, but no flea markets. So when we got to Warsaw and I read about this enormous flea market every Saturday and Sunday on the outskirts of the city, I was determined to go.
Viktor really hates stuff like this, so it took some, uh, convincing. We even delayed our trip to Krakow by a day so I could go check out the goods.
On a sleepy Sunday we took the tram to a really sketchy area of Warsaw {the East side, which looked like the projects in N.Y.C.} and all of a sudden, there it was. Striped tents, Gypsies, and accordion playing Russians.
Viktor was astonished.
And 2.2 seconds in, we realized we should all stop speaking English immediately. In all honesty, the only time Viktor spoke English was inside our apartment, and even then very grudgingly. But between the Gypsies, the Russians, and the accordion playing Polskies, we figured it would be best for all English-speaking members of our family to close their mouths. *Ahem*.… >> find out more…









