THIS is not my idea of fun — absolutely, positively not. To my way of
thinking, holidays and dentists are about as far apart as possible. While
one represents pleasure, the other — usually, with my teeth — equals pain.
But here I am in a city I’d never heard of until I booked my flight for 1p
each way plus taxes (grand total: £24.63) — Szczecin in Western Pomerania in
northwest Poland — lying with my mouth open and a Polish dentist checking my
molars.
“Ah, Mr Chesshyre, you do not have the whitest of teeth,” says Dr Cezary
Turostowski, who runs Dentus, a dental practice that offers treatments for
roughly a third of prices in the UK — a filling with a consultation is about
£20, a bridge £700, an extraction £30, a crown £200. He has been recommended
by the manageress at my hotel, the Radisson SAS, and all his staff speak
English; appointments should be made about a week in advance.
“But they are healthy. They have lots of calcium. They are strong teeth,” he
says. “It is not natural to have sparkling white teeth.” (Laser whitening
costs £200 and takes about 40 minutes.) “Your teeth are right for you.
Strong and healthy. . . ah, but you have a cavity!” Great. “OK,” I say, out
comes the drill and 20 minutes later the deed is done. I am officially a
“dental tourist”, just like thousands of Danes who come each year, and the
handful of British tourists who have heard of the cheap, high-standard
treatments.
It’s enough to put a smile on your face — which is exactly what you want as
Szczecin is hoping to be the next big party destination in Eastern Europe,
for those tired of Riga, Tallinn, Vilnius and Bratislava.
Post-filling, I decide it’s time to get my teeth into the nightlife. I meet up
with Wojciech, Anna and Elvi — twentysomethings who know the best places to
go.
We eat at the Renaissance restaurant at the Radisson, considered one of the
best in town. I have a terrific meal of fresh tomato soup, followed by roast
pheasant, with a glass of nice red Polish wine (£20 and not a blood sausage
in sight) — and then we hit the town.
A five-minute taxi ride and we’re at the city’s “hottest” club: Can Can. It’s
astonishing — like stepping into a L’Oréal advert. Everyone seems young,
glamorous, sophisticated, and just plain beautiful. Not a dodgy set of
choppers anywhere. A model agency could clean up here.
The women are stunning, wearing glittery retro disco outfits, and the men are
smartly dressed, some in suits. Everyone is well-behaved but having fun,
dancing to a mix of 1980s and dance hits.
Above the din, Wojciech tells me how many of their friends have moved to the
UK to get work: “I almost have more friends in London than I do here.”
We go next door to the Rocker Club, which is a little more raucous, for apple
and cinnamon-flavoured vodkas. Next it’s City Hall for Polish hip-hop until
the early hours.
I never get the knack of pronouncing Szczecin (officially it is
“shcheh-cheen”). But I like it. It’s only a 90-minute flight from Stansted,
it’s fun, the food’s good, and my teeth feel like a million dollars . . .
only they cost a whole lot less to fix.
Need to know
Szczecin (“shcheh-cheen”)
Getting there: Ryanair (www.ryanair.com) has return flights
from £24.63.
Getting around: Hertz (www.hertz.com) has cars from £25 a
day.
Where to stay: Radisson SAS (www.radissonsas.com) has double
rooms from £45. The Novotel (www.novotel.com) has doubles from £36.
Going out: Can Can (www.cancan.pl), Rocker Club
(www.rockerclub.pl), City Hall (www.cityhall.pl).
Where to eat: The Renaissance at the Radisson. Bombay (00 48
91 488 4932); great Indian restaurant, £10-£15 a head.
Getting your teeth checked: Dentus (www.dentus.szczecin.pl).
Reading: Poland (Rough Guides, £14.99).
Further information: Polish National Tourist Office
(www.visitpoland.org).
