Some years ago, when I lived in Toronto, I met Nathan, another Australian, through a Canadian friend who lived in the same building as Glen and me. A fast friendship formed, and while we hadn’t seen each other since 2015, or spoken all that often, we stayed in touch.

Over the intervening years, Nathan and his partner Martin, who’s Polish, bought a dilapidated palace near Klodzko, Poland, with the intention of renovating it and saving the building from total ruin.

Fast forward about 11 years and they’d made good on much of that plan – although there was still some way to go. As I was “in the area” – having gone to Berlin for a weekend – and had never been to Poland, I took the opportunity to visit them and live out a little aristocratic fantasy.

I took a couple of trains on Monday morning, travelling from Berlin to Wroclaw and then on to Klodzko, where Nathan met me. He was as tall, sunny and friendly as ever, despite everything that had happened over the past decade. And now he speaks Polish!

We went for lunch in the old town first. I was given a choice between Polish schnitzel or Japanese, and went for the schnitzel. I had to do something traditional – although apparently the Japanese food in Klodzko is excellent.

After a simple but tasty lunch on the terrace, complete with the usual red cabbage and coleslaw on the side, we went back to the car and drove off towards the palace. The weather was excellent, which by then was just what I’d come to expect, to be honest, but Nathan said it had turned recently, so having the sunshine back was a surprise.

Then we arrived at the palace: a grand, white-walled building beautifully situated among the forest. A few storeys high, its exterior gave little indication of just how extensive the interiors were.

From what Nathan and Martin told me, when they bought it there was very little that hadn’t been damaged. Once a palace, then a government school and finally a drug den, the building had deteriorated badly over a relatively short period.

Much of the ground, first and second floors have now been renovated, creating or restoring sitting rooms and parlours, a kitchen, their private apartments, and multiple large guest rooms with bathrooms. One open space serves as a popular wedding venue – although fortunately there wasn’t one happening while I was there.

There’s still plenty more work to do in the roof space, along with other improvements.

Then there are the grounds and terraces, a greenhouse, an entirely separate building that needs restoring, two giant barns and even more land elsewhere nearby.

It’s a lot.

I chose the very comfortable green room on the second floor, with a view overlooking the forest, fields and mountains beyond.

As well as catching up with Nathan and Martin, there was time to explore the local area and hear about how they’d adjusted to life in Poland while trying to restore this enormous property.

The next day we went for a drive around the area, stopping at an antique shop – they’re always on the lookout for more furniture and treasures – before having lunch at a hotel on the edge of a dam. Lunch was excellent; I had duck, and the drinks, company and view were equally good.

On the drive back, we took a quick detour to look at the entry points to the Gross-Rosen Concentration Camp. This death camp was situated in the forest to make it harder for the Allies to spot, meanwhile Jews and other prisoners sent to the camps were forced into the mines there. Some 120,000 people passed through this concentration camp between 1940 and 1945; an estimated 40,000 died there.

Travelling by train through Poland had already given me a strange feeling, shaped by so many movies, photographs and pieces of footage I’d seen of Poland during the Second World War. 

Simply being on a train crossing the country created an odd sense of dislocation as I thought about people who had once been transported along railway lines to die far from home.

Going through the forests felt a little eerie, even with the sun shining. There are layers of meaning here, including borrowed meaning: they’re not my memories, but memories and images inherited from other people and conjured up by being in the same landscape.

Like I said, a strange feeling.

On Wednesday we went to Stołowe Mountains National Park to climb the flat-topped mountain. The ascent was easy enough, passing through pretty forest before reaching some lovely views from the top.

But the descent was the really spectacular part, winding around interesting rock formations and through caverns and canyons, with more great views along the way. Martin also pointed out the wild blueberries growing everywhere and, once I’d spotted them, I couldn’t help stopping every now and then to pick a handful.

I love eating wild berries. Fortunately these ones weren’t poisonous.

It wasn’t a particularly long hike, but it was a beauty, and a great way to stretch the legs before going for lunch.

The restaurant we went – Anaberg – to sits beside an old church and a large, rundown German house, while the restaurant itself had apparently been a derelict building not too long ago. The owner has transformed it into a hotel with a really decent restaurant inside.

So we settled in for three delicious courses – the garlic prawns in butter were divine – before zooming back to the palace in the late afternoon.

And the next day, my palace sojourn was over.

Nate drove me to the train station in the morning, we hugged goodbye, and I set off for Krakow. Staying in a palace was great for a few days, but I didn’t have any overwhelming urge to stay forever.

Largely because there is so much work still to be done.