Are you here for the Polish pottery?

I’m a good Army wife. I love Polish pottery. Do I need any? Absolutely not. Do I need any before I even move in the house? An even bigger no. Did Jerry’s head explode when he heard about this excursion? Of course! So there I am scrolling through trying to figure out what’s going on in this new place and one of the ladies in the Facebook group here posts that Lucas, the ex-pat who gives cooking lessons, also apparently goes to Poland every now and then and buys pottery and brings it back to sell. Game on. Does it matter that all I have is an address? No. I naturally assume he has a storefront. After all I have an address on one of the main roads in downtown Vicenza.


The store with the pink in the window is where I thought I would find Polish pottery.

When I get there, I quickly discovered that there is no storefront. There’s just an open courtyard and a big apartment building. Now in the States I would’ve been very leery about punching a button and going up to some strange man’s apartment even if it was just to look at Polish pottery. I take a chance here. After I finally figure out which bell to ring, I am buzzed in.

I still don’t know actually what apartment to go to but I head up the stairwell. Down comes a lanky young blonde kid, not the ex-pat I expected. He says to me, “Are you here for the Polish pottery?” Yes, yes I am. Never mind that in my head it sounded like he said, “Are you here for some drugs?”

Anyway, I’m escorted into a lovely little apartment with tables stacked with Polish pottery—it’s stacked under the tables, it’s stacked on shelves by the window. It is everywhere. I succumb to temptation and buy a small jar (or two) to keep my balsalmic vinegar.


Aren’t the colors gorgeous on the platter and jar?

The young gentleman and I chat as well as we can given the language thing. I get out my cash and prepare to slip it to him when no one is looking. Just kidding. I hand it to him over the table and he writes me a very official looking receipt in case it gets broken and I need to file a claim. I say my goodbyes and leave.

I just want credit that in less than 14 days I found Polish pottery in Italy. Who is going with me to Poland for the big haul? 

#day13 #1017daysinitaly