One of my passions, as regular readers may know, is walking, preferably through countryside or forest, but if all else fails just a stroll around the city neighbourhoods. I find it relaxing and a good way to clear my head when things (as can often happen at the best of times) get on top of me. Besides, it’s also good for my general fitness – I’m too old now for active sports, and various joints are stiffening as I approach my mid-70s, and gym exercise, even the most light and meaningless, has never been my thing. So a regular stroll helps with all of that and stops me turning into a completely obese couch potato.

For Christmas, I was gifted a set of Nordic Walking poles by my Beloved. I had mentioned to her last summer that on my woodland wanderings I frequently saw people yomping along with them at a great rate of knots, and often they looked older than me, so it must be a healthy occupation. Partly that is down to my own walking habits, especially in forests: I tend to amble along, stopping frequently to listen to the silence, the birds, small animals scuffling in the surrounding undergrowth, the sigh of the breeze through the trees… You get the picture. Just enjoying life and nature at its most pure and blessed. I forgot all about it until I opened the gift, and was delighted.

I christened them on a trip to London immediately after Christmas, and used them frequently there to explore the Olympic Park and Hackney Marshes, both very close to where I was staying, and to amble around the Stratford East Village where my host lives. I saw no-one else doing likewise, even in the Park and Marshes, and received some funny looks from people, but what the hell – it was fun. I had looked at a few how to…videos on YouTube so I had an idea of the basic technique, but frankly found the recommended gait unnatural and stumbled repeatedly over the poles mid-stride, which is not recommended and is besides embarrassing in public. But I soon found a way of adapting it to something more comfortable to me, and am now quite happily striding along, head held high and open chested in the recommended style and to my surprise find that this does indeed bring a different set of muscles into play and improves your breathing, both of which are health benefits. It’s fun and I enjoy it, two or three times a week.

I haven’t headed for the forest yet. It’s still very cold here, and after a wettish but not snowy winter there is still a lot of moisture to contend with, and I know from past experience that some of my favoured forest paths will be very muddy still and tricky to navigate, even without the poles. But the weather is changing and over the next couple of weeks that should open my favoured routes again. But in the meantime there a good number of parks in my end of the city to enjoy, so I can use them instead. It’s one of the things I love about the place.

In my view it’s a tribute to Poles that when they were reconstructing their cities after the War, they ensured that there is always plenty of green space for people to enjoy. Between the grey old Communist-era apartment complexes there are always (more or less) well tended lawns and shrubberies and children’s playgrounds, and plenty of benches to sit on. The same is true of the more recent developments, like the ones I’ve lived in since moving to the country twenty years ago, and many of the newest apartment complexes are built surrounding secured communal gardens that often contain water features as well as play areas, lighting and seating. They’re nice places to relax and enjoy on summer evenings.

In Warsaw – and to the best of my knowledge in all cities – there is also a large number of proper parks, perhaps not of the scale of Hyde Park in London or Central Park in New York, but big enough, and typically with a couple of small cafes or seasonal ice-cream vendors, and extensive networks of foot- and cycle-paths, again kid’s play areas, exercise areas with walkers, bike and rowing machines, all free to use. The biggest ones also have decent sized ponds or lakes surrounded by trees, shrubs and reed beds, with of course seating areas to relax and feed the resident duck population.

At the weekend I took a yomp with my sticks that took in three of them. The first, Krolikowska, is quite close to the city centre and served by half a dozen tram lines, but once you’ve passed through the entrance and walked fifty yards into the green trees, that all recedes and you’re in a tranquil space surrounded by benches and statuary, some old and some new. At the far end is an old mansion, probably once home to aristocracy but now a small museum and gallery with a coffee bar and tabled terrace. This part of the park is elevated, and behind the building another walled terrace offers long views across the lower park and lake. over the Old Mokotow neighbouhood towards the distant (and hidden) river Vistula. I wandered around both sections and sat by the lake for half an hour reading a book (but not feeding the ducks) then headed home.

On the way, on the spur of the moment, I took a detour to another as far as I know unnamed park, next to an office (where a good friend and neighbour works) and university complex. It too boasts a decent sized lake where on this sunny Sunday there were a few anglers chancing their luck (and as far as I could see getting narry a nibble). There were plenty of people there reflecting the multi-racial nature of Warsaw’s population, enjoying sunshine and Big Macs from the neighbouring outlet. Some of the more energetic, glory be, also sported poles like me. I crossed the weir at the end of the lake, where the water feeds a stream running through the neighbouring (and bigger and more wild) park and thence after a few kilometres or so into the Vistula, walked past the Wiscigi tram terminus and then over the bridge into the neighbourhood adjacent to my own.

But again, on a whim, I turned left instead of right and headed along to a parkland where many years ago I went to a free concert by 80s heart-throbs Duran Duran – it was surprisingly good. The concert was in the corner of an area called Tor Wyscigow, which I now found was a horse-racing track. Again, it’s not on the scale of Aintree or Royal Ascot, but it boasts a couple of well appointed grandstands and, adjacent to it, an extensive stable and training complex. I followed the perimeter road that curved towards where I live, but there was no exit and I had to come all way back, and re-trace my footsteps to get back on the correct road, but it was worth the effort.

By the tme I got home, my back was beginning to ache, and I had covered not quite 15km over a period a little over three hours – a pretty good effort, all things considered, and the longest walk so far this year. Now, three days later, the stiffness has left my joints and I can feel the benefit of the exercise (I’m telling myself that anyway). It was a good day.