Poland has provided the greatest number of new arrivals to Ireland since EU enlargement. Tom Galvin looks at features of the Polish summerSummer in the New EU

In 1999 Poland was a country with a history still veiled behind the shadow of the Iron Curtain. When getting married there that summer, I did my best to advise the party coming over from Ireland on some basic requirements for the week.

The wedding would require a casual suit for the gents and a dress for the ladies, nothing too fancy. A comfortable pair of shoes was a requisite, because Polish weddings continue until six in the morning. They would also come in handy when visiting the mountain resort of Zakopane. Film for cameras, basic medical supplies and other holiday provisions are readily available.

The currency was the zloty (which basically means "gold"), a currency that had become stable and convertible so there would be no need to go to the black market with wads of dollars.

I did however forget to mention the climate and, because many were more familiar with my embellished accounts of Polish winters, some arrived in mid-summer temperatures of over 30 degrees with long johns, anoraks and heavy jumpers only to be bowled over by the searing heat.

There were a few other surprises. The boiled egg in the soup called zurek, a tasty dish that tends to catch the diner by surprise when a sudden burden is felt on the end of the spoon; the proliferation of McDonald's (a regrettable sign of an improving economy but a sign nonetheless); the superior quality of the Sobieski hotel in Warsaw; the large branch of Ikea directly opposite; the beauty of Warsaw's Old Town; the number of people who spoke English and the fact that all the men weren't plumbers.

Given that the latter concern caused such alarm in France recently, the Polish National Tourist Office were quite right to plaster France with posters of 21-year-old model Piotr Adamski dressed as a plumber, with the caption "Je reste en Pologne. Venez nombreux." (I'm staying in Poland. Come.)

What was most alarming for the Polish tourist board was not merely the xenophobia but the naivety and the effects that it might have on tourism. The myth of the Polish plumber is as detrimental as that of the peasant wooden bowls.

Granted, there is still something of a divide between rural and urban Poland. An initial visit can be suggestive of the Steppes, with vast swathes of unfenced field (Poland comes from the word pola meaning field). Wooden homes still exist in many areas of this, for the most part, topographically flat country which lends itself so perfectly to rail travel.

Urban or rural, summer means outdoors and evenings mean "grills" or barbecues. Every weekend at this time of year, the smell of smoked kielbasa (sausage) hangs in the air unless extinguished by a thunderstorm that gives welcome and regular respite from the heat.

While living in blocks was a necessity after the war, many Poles who live in towns and cities also own a dzialka, or allotment, outside the town boundaries, which, ever the resourceful Poles, they use to grow a variety of their own vegetables. A trip on a suburban train will reveal lines of these allotments spread like ribbon near the tracks and some Poles are more creative than others, utilising these patches of land by building small wooden sheds for an overnight stay, others building their permanent grills.

Pubs then, in the traditional sense, are a recent feature in much of Poland, existing more in the cities. The economy of drinking at home and a culture of eating while drinking meant that cafes and inns were always more popular. Krakow however abounds with hybrid bars/cafes with live jazz alongside modern pubs and clubs. Likewise in Warsaw, which has mushroomed in recent years and is not the city it was even five or six years ago.

But there are the medieval cities like Torun, birthplace of Copernicus, on the way north to Gdansk. Poznan and Wroclaw in the west. Fabulous cities which are largely ignored by tourists but easily accessible on Intercity trains that criss-cross the country.

The Baltic coast thrives at this time of year, with its long golden beaches but unfortunately with low air and sea temperatures, even in summer. This didn't prevent one of the main resorts, Chalupy on the Hel peninsula, from having been a nudist area, however. Now, Chalupy is more popular with windsurfers, attracting both domestic and foreign fanatics.

Accommodation in this area suits all budgets, with camping and rooms in private homes the typical choice, as they are in the Tatry mountain resorts like Zakopane at the far end of the country on the border with Slovakia.

Walkers are catered for by mountain hostels scattered high up among the magnificent trails that Poles and other Europeans clamber over every year. A stay in one of these hostels is an experience, with generators switched off at 10pm and the place plunged into a purple darkness.

Many Poles also own and rent out holiday homes in the lake areas of Mazuria in the northeast of the country, an area of 42 lakes, popular for canoeing and boating and loved by visiting Germans. Festivals are high on the calendar in summer months and barbecuing skills come in handy here because pools of water plus a warm climate equals clouds of mosquitoes that don't like smoke.

Polish summers? Giant sausage and strong beer, walked off on a mountain trail. Or, if you prefer in a canoe on a Mazurian lake. My favourite was taking an Intercity train and finding a new city to explore. And always, even in the buffet car, zurek.