A yoga weekend in Masuria: nine kilometres from the border, and complete silence

Some places you have to fly to. And some you simply drive to, and still feel like you landed somewhere else.

Our first yoga weekend in Masuria was the second kind.

Where we were

Nine kilometres from the border with Kaliningrad. Truly the end of the world, in the best possible sense. Around us cows, meadows, fields, storks and village cottages. There is nothing to sightsee there, and that was exactly the point.

What stayed with me most was the silence. Not the kind where something is missing, but the kind that holds everything. After a few hours you start to hear your own thoughts, and that is exactly the moment when the practice begins.

How the day looked

Morning: a practice to wake up

We started strong. A practice that wakes the body and builds strength, so the rest of the day has something to draw on.

Breakfast, and time nobody was watching

Then breakfast together. And after it, hours with nothing planned. Coffee, tea, conversations on the jetty or in the library. Much of what is best about these trips happens in exactly those moments.

Late morning: workshops

Something different each day. An introduction to meditation for the women who were starting from zero. A close look at standing postures, so you understand them in the body and not only copy the teacher. A silent walking meditation along the Masurian roads.

Lunch

Vegetarian, cooked fresh by Bazyli. No compromises and never boring.

Saturday afternoon: the spa, just for us

This was the real highlight. Saunas, jacuzzi, pool. The whole place reserved for our group only, for the entire afternoon. No strangers, no rush, no watching the clock.

Evening

Dinner was a feast again, and there was always a dessert waiting on the kitchen counter. Then conversations over vinyl records, one night under a sky full of stars, another by the fireplace.

We also made honey together. And ate some of it along the way, which was probably the best part.

What stayed with me

If you asked me for the strongest memory, I would not name a single posture or a single meal.

What stayed was gratitude. That I have this group around me. So many warm, wonderful women who support me in what I do, and who come simply to be together. That we orbit around each other and hold each other up.

I see the same thing in Fuerteventura and in Marrakech. Women arrive alone and leave with friends. In Masuria it was the same, only without an airport.

Will we do it again?

I am thinking about going back next year.

Masuria has one thing the islands do not: you can get there by car or by train. For many of you that is the difference between "one day" and "this year".

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