Sometimes time collapses.  Warsaw was the first place I ever went outside of Britain. I was twenty one years old and had never flown - never had the money.  But i had a job offer in a university in the far east of Poland, and was obsessed with Polish theatre, and wanted to change the world, so why not get on a plane with about £100 and a teach yourself Polish book, and a letter of invitation, and go and live behind the Iron Curtain for a year.  The plane flew from Heathrow to Warsaw, at the bottom of the exit steps on the Warsaw airport tarmac, soldiers of my age pointed machine guns suspiciously at the arriving passengers.  Within hours I was in Lublin with a meat ration card, a tiny one-room apartment and a stomach full of cheap vodka.  Maybe the world wouldn't emerge from this encounter changed, but I would.

This Thursday evening i arrived in Warsaw from Heathrow again as a delegate to the Symposium of National Theatres.  The face of the city is Starbucked and Gucci-d but it's almost a relief to have the good old Palace of Culture and Science winking a Stalinist eye in the central square.  A sly 'comrade' beneath the Euro-chic clothing. 

At the back of a talk from the Greek national theatre, I sneak a peek at the Wales-France match on my i-phone.  I'm no rugby follower, but this is real national drama.  The interconnectedness is dizzying.  Back then a letter from home was communication, news was whispered in bitter rumours.

I've seen two shows at the Polish National theatre and while I enjoyed them I need some fresh theatrical air.  Is there something else I can see, something a bit underground? I ask.  Even in saying the word I realise just how nostalgic it sounds.  'There's no underground in Poland' laughs the young man.  'Everything is above ground now. Everything aims to be official'.  I wander out in search of some familiar Polish food - I guess my old staple of cabbage pizza is no longer on the menu, but I'm hopeful that in the tastes of bigos or borscht I can find a key to the memory of a me that walked the streets of a very different Poland.