After a swim — oh, the shock of freezing indoor laps and public showers after the club deck in balmy Singapore — we drove out for cognac-laced coffees to a potato magnate’s palace, which now hosts weddings (Saturday afternoon and not a bride in sight). It was a perfect early March day: feeble sun and cold wind ripping the early leaves. There was a trampoline! After supper, Sławek brought out his banjo and Basia showed us old photographs. A., looking at your grandparents standing in pairs at your parents’ wedding, I am intrigued by their differences: on one side, the school inspector and the librarian, with a girl in bows and a piano in the front room, and on the other, the Ukrainians from Słupsk, a tired looking man and woman with rough hollow cheeks and big hands.