When you live in Malta, a weekend break usually means somewhere familiar — Italy, maybe Spain. But this time, I wanted something different. So on Friday, 21st November, I boarded a late flight from Malta to Warsaw, landing around 11 p.m. The night was cold and still, and instead of heading straight out, I picked up a rental car at Chopin Airport and checked into a nearby hotel to rest before the drive ahead.
Early the next morning, I hit the road for Lublin, just over two hours southeast of Warsaw. The motorway was smooth and almost empty, stretching through misty fields and quiet villages. The early light revealed Poland’s late autumn landscape — bare trees, wide horizons, and a kind of calm that instantly slows your thoughts. It couldn’t have felt more different from Malta’s warmth and noise, and that contrast was exactly what I needed.
Arriving in Lublin felt like discovering a secret. The Old Town, framed by medieval walls and pastel buildings, looked straight out of a painting. I parked just outside the centre and started exploring on foot. The Krakowska Gate greeted me at the entrance, leading into winding cobbled streets filled with cafés, bookshops, and locals going about their morning.
I spent the day walking through the heart of the city, visiting the Lublin Castle with its sweeping views and the Holy Trinity Chapel, home to stunning 15th-century frescoes. Later, I wandered through the old Jewish quarter — a quiet, reflective part of town that carries the memory of its past. Lublin’s history isn’t hidden; it’s visible in its architecture, its museums, and the way locals speak about their city with quiet pride.
Lunch was at a cozy spot in the Market Square, where I tried pierogi filled with mushrooms and cabbage, followed by hot mulled wine that warmed me right up. By afternoon, the city had softened under a pale sky, and street musicians played slow jazz as people lingered in cafés. It felt real, unpolished, and welcoming.
In the evening, I returned to the Old Town, now softly lit with golden lights. The air was crisp, and the streets had emptied just enough to hear footsteps echo on the cobblestones. It was one of those simple, peaceful moments when you realise a place doesn’t need grand attractions to leave an impression — it just needs authenticity.
On Sunday morning, before driving back to Warsaw, I stopped at the State Museum at Majdanek, a few kilometres outside Lublin. Once a Nazi concentration and extermination camp during the Second World War, it now stands as one of Europe’s most powerful memorials. Walking through its vast grounds, past the wooden barracks, watchtowers, and the monumental Mausoleum that holds the ashes of victims, was deeply moving. It’s a sobering place that puts everything else into perspective — a reminder of how fragile peace can be, and how vital it is to remember.
From there, I continued towards Warsaw at an easy pace, stopping briefly at a roadside café before returning the car and catching my 16:15 flight to Malta. In just two days, Poland had given me a calm, grounded experience that felt far longer than a weekend.
Lublin might not make the top of every travel list, but that’s what makes it special. It’s the kind of city that doesn’t perform for visitors — it just exists, beautifully and quietly. For anyone in Malta looking to trade sun for stillness, Lublin is a reminder that sometimes the most memorable places are the ones you find when you take a different turn.
