„It was already April when Peter Kwinto arrived in Warsaw in a jeep.
Te suburb of Praga looked just as he had known it before the war.
Dirty tenement houses with warping wooden structures between
them, long straight streets paved roughly with cobble-stones, wind
– there was always wind there – sweeping up spirals of sand and
litter. Only the lopped-off towers of St. Florian’s and occasional
shrapnel-scarred walls reminded one of the war. All the same,
Praga had changed. Its main street was transformed into a bazaar
and camping site”.
Czesław Miłosz
