Que faire à Białystok


Białystok est une ville de 291855 habitants situé dans le pays (Pologne). La cité est perché 135m d’altitude au dessus du niveau de la mer. Pour programmer votre GPS voici les coordonnées de la ville Latitude : 53.13333 et Longitude : 23.16433

Comment se loger à Białystok

Guides et cartes utiles

Pour avoir plus d’informations sur les bon plans, les visites ou monuments à voir à Białystok je vous conseille fortement de vous procurer un guide de voyage (Lonely Planet, Routard, GEO). Les références ne manquent pas. Voici quelques suggestions :

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Que faut-il prendre pour visiter Białystok

Un petit sac à dos de 20L maximum sera tout à fait adapté pour suivre partout lors de votre visite de Białystok. Vous n’aurez pas besoin de plus grand pour transporter tout ce que vous aurez besoin. Ne prenez pas trop de chose. Une batterie externe pour recharger votre téléphone. Votre appareil photo ou perche à selfie, de quoi boire et vous protéger des éléments extérieurs (pluie / froid). Pour plus d’informations vous pouvez lire notre guide pour savoir quoi mettre dans votre sac à dos en voyage.

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Récis de voyage à Białystok

I leave the Oki Doki Hostel in Warsaw, taking care once again to greet the war siren behind its dirty window. I’ll certainly see that one again: Poland should be done here (if I don’t change my hostel plans by then). I only walk a few blocks to the train station in La Capitale. Everything is quiet, clean and orderly in the centre of Warsaw. Bicycles pass in silence, patiently waiting their turn to cross the crossroads. Cigarette in his beak and paper bag in his soft hand, a bearded man numb from the drink sleeps on a park bench. I enter the impeccable Warsaw station with the intention of getting a train ticket that will propel me to Podlasie, a remote corner of north-eastern Poland. Sans anicroche, j’obtiens mon ticket : Bialystok. Départ midi et une. Quai numéro un. Bloc de l’Est ça, Bialystok. Pas surprenant : A particularly difficult visa will prevent me from entering Poland’s neighbouring country. Reaching Bialystok therefore seems to me the best option to graze the belligerent Belarus. The train starts, and quickly leaves Warsaw and its suburbs. Soon, fields and stretches of forest take over through the windows of the moving wagon. Some houses appear here and there in the plains. It is the campaign which definitively takes the top whereas one sinks in Podlachie. Slowly, people start moving on the train. We are now two hours apart from Warsaw. The machine stops and all of a sudden, people throw themselves on the platforms of the final station. I’m here too, a little confused on the landing stage. The hostel where I have to land is less than a kilometre from the station (that’s what I read). So I put on my heavy packsac and go into town… The plan I scribbled is hard to decipher. An old farmer with an absent look passes by my side: Excusez-moi. Vous parlez anglais ? Excusez-moi. The grandfather ignores me and deafens his ears. I handed him with my fingertips the brochure where I had noted the address of my inn. The man smiles at me, edentulous, and takes out pretty sentences in Polish. L’auberge. Par ici ? The man then moves away, without other words, and severely shakes my hand as a fly is pushed away. My journey is therefore beginning to become more complex, it seems, now that I have dared the east of Poland. I try my luck again this time, with two older women who seem to be waiting for the bus. Bonjour. L’auberge. Par ici….. Piisudskiego ? Tak. Kyswsky wachskyj Wkakch que me lance la plus fluente en anglais. Achwyska chkysky que relance l’autre. They are jabbering and quickly engage in a heated debate to which I am certainly not invited. I stand here, mute, waiting for some final direction. Merci. Ok. Thank you I tell them with a stupid smile… Back to square one, then. My 15 minute walk will stretch to the end in 1 hour and a quarter of trial and error and unsuccessful requests for information. The inn finally appeared to me there, behind a large box of tasteless apartments, resembling a huge beige LEGO block. The beige block is numbered on the side, like a typewriter typography. On Piisudskiego Street, there are 30 identical and numbered blocks from the Soviet era. The communists were pragmatic, unattractive. The dormitory where I’m staying couldn’t be more cramped. On the 4 bunkbeds (8 beds in total), 4 mattresses already snore. Afternoon naps are camouflaged under their blankets: I will not meet any anglophones or francophones in Bialystok. Sometimes, I will meet young people behind the coffee shops who will test a few words in English with a smile. Often, a discussion will also begin when I arrive in the stores about who employees can contact me. Now it is the trainee, out of her cauldrons, who comes timidly to play the interpreter at my table. She points me to the choices on the menu: Nous adorons Potatoes qu’elle finira finira par m’avouer. It is Sunday and tourists from neighbouring countries feast on the terraces of Bialystok Central Square. I settle alone, among the families, at a typical Polish restaurant called Babka. The atmosphere in the place is as flowery as ever. Hiding half the tables, crocheted white tablecloths support the dishes a little everywhere. Elsewhere in the country, the same tablecloths are certainly also used to cover the shoulders of grandmothers. A waitress dressed in a puffy red dress, suffocated by the tiles and embroideries in flowers, leaves me a Polish menu. Kwychj dajywch tak she tells me without smiling, rushing immediately to the family table in front of me. My eyes look for familiarity in the plasticized menu. So I’ll have to find myself a random meal in the paragraphs. So I show up with a choice, being very careful not to choose a dessert for dinner. Tak that the dress tells me by agreeing to my final decision. I’m disappointed, of course. I split starch with my fork: In front of me, at the family table, a teenager receives him, an appetizing veal shank on a nest of tagliatelle with butter and chives. I’m really disappointed in my Russian dolls. As long as the young person turns his eyes and loses sight of his meal… But, well, the teenager will stay focused on his calf shank until the end, the bastard. I made the worst choice on the menu. I now turn my eyes towards one of the puffy dresses behind the bar… Merde. My boiled potatoes are still here. I was hoping someone would make them disappear… On adore les pommes de terre qu’on m’avait dit. Today, my plan was to go to the Bialowieza National Park on the Belarusian border to see the last bison in Europe. On the other hand, without a car, the escapade seems complicated to organize. The language barrier and the lack of organized tours in the area forces me to realign my game plan. So I will have no choice but to turn to the city zoo to see the famous proud buffalo everywhere on Zubr beer bottles and Zubrowka Vodka bottles. That is disappointing. But since nothing happens for nothing… Olives, capers and pickles marinated in fish soup is weird.

Lire aussi
Que faire à Katowice

Les visites à faire dans la ville de Białystok

A ne pas manquer à Białystok

Si il vous reste encore du temps pour votre futur voyage à Białystok. Trouvez ci-dessous quelques idées de visites complémentaires.

  • Palais Branicki
  • Museum of Podlasie in Bialystok
  • The Ludwik Zamenhof Centre
  • Muzeum Historyczne w Białymstoku
  • Army Museum in Białystok
  • Memorial Museum Siberia
  • Galeria im. Sleńdzińskich
  • Planty
  • Cathédrale de l’Assomption
  • Podlasie Museum of Folk Culture
  • Park Constitution of May 3
  • Jurajski Park Dinozaurów (Muzeum Dziejów Ziemi) – Najlepszy Rodzinny Park Rozrywki na Podlasiu!
  • Old park them. Prince Jozef Poniatowski
  • St. Roch’s Church Białystok
  • The Cathedral of St. Nicholas the Wonderworker Archbishop of Myria in Lycia
  • Amusement Park FastPark
  • Alfons Karny Museum of Sculpture – Branch of the Museum of Podlasie
  • Rezervace Zvěřinecký les
  • Ogród Branickich
  • Rope Park FastPark

Bonne visite et bon séjour à Białystok

Crédit photo : pixabay.com et flickr.com


A propos de l'auteur

Alban c'est L'Écosse et à moi me reviens l'Angleterre. Mais il n'y a aucune guerre en nous Haha ! Je vis en France depuis plusieurs années (mais pas en Dordogne, non non, nous ne vivons pas tous là-bas). Je suis simplement à Paris. L'Angleterre est un pays incroyable (seul l'amour me l'a fait quitter), et il ne fait pas que pleuvoir (je vais vous le prouver). See you !

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