Aleksandra Wierzbowska

05/04/2026

One of my last trips to Pokrovsk (Feb, 2025), alongside the White Angels - a Ukrainian police unit evacuating civilians from frontline areas.

We visited a school destroyed by Russian forces. At the time, I still hoped that I would be able to return.

Many civilians were still living in the city. So were countless abandoned animals.

29/03/2026

Preparing the gear.



pl
iq.ku

28/03/2026

Zapraszam do słuchania!

28/03/2026

In Kurdistan, you cannot simply step into a river and paddle for weeks. The rivers here are interrupted by dams, gravel extraction sites, fish farms, pollution, hazardous debris, and remnants of war.

Together with Nabil Musa from .iq.ku , we carried out a detailed reconnaissance to assess the condition of the Little Zab and identify potential obstacles. For several weeks now, it has been raining continuously, raising water levels and causing flooding in some areas.

The Little Zab, also known as the Lower Zab, rises in the Zagros Mountains of north-western Iran. Crossing the Iran–Iraq border near the Alan Pass, it enters Iraq’s Sulaymaniyah Governorate in the Kurdistan Region, flowing through valleys and plains, including the Ranya Plain.

We travelled towards the border, passing numerous checkpoints along the way, to determine where it would be possible to begin the descent. The place shown in the photograph is where the Little Zab enters Kurdistan and, for several dozen kilometres, forms part of the border. We sadly cannot begin here - although I hope there will come a day when it is possible to follow the river from its source.

Despite the tense situation, power outages, the sound of Shahed drones at night, and flooded streets, life here continues. The artists and environmental activists I have met carry on with their work every day. Nabil says this is both the worst and the best time to be here. We are witnessing history. We are part of it.


pl

20/03/2026

Nowruz marks the beginning of spring for the Kurdish people, but it is also a powerful symbol of renewal. In Kurdish tradition, it refers to the legend of Kawa - the blacksmith who defeated the tyrant Zahhak and lit a fire as a sign of freedom. That is why the flames in Akre are more than a ritual - they are a statement of memory, resistance, and hope.

For many years, Nowruz was banned or tightly controlled, yet it endured - passed down from generation to generation. Today, it is not only a celebration of spring. It is something much deeper: an affirmation of identity, community, and the right to exist.

Despite the current situation in the region and the shelling of targets within Kurdistan, the celebrations have not been stopped. “We celebrated when ISIS was at our doorstep, we celebrated under Saddam, despite persecution and exter*ination - and we will celebrate today as well.”

03/03/2026

This evening I gave a talk about our expedition along the rivers of the Colombian Amazon, as well as about , the initiative dedicated to combating sexual violence. I’m truly grateful for the invitation and for everyone who came. It means a great deal to me that there are people willing to listen — that there are spaces open to these conversations, even when the subjects are difficult.

These meetings are always very important to me. They can be emotionally demanding, yet at the same time deeply enriching. I’m grateful that they have become part of my work, part of what I do, part of my mission.

Now I’m driving straight to the Tatras to practise my downhill technique on the pistes. I want to become strong enough on skis to keep up with my partner and my friends — so that we can spend more time together in the mountains.

I’ve truly fallen in love with skiing. And yet it feels like a huge challenge. It’s a curious relationship — there are moments of doubt, when I feel I’ll never quite master it. But then there are those beautiful states of flow, when I sense how much joy this discipline could add to my life in the mountains. Beyond climbing and trekking, adding skiing to that world would be something incredibly special. I genuinely want to learn.

In between it all, I’m working remotely, as another expedition is just around the corner. The world has become more complicated lately, so I’m adjusting to a new reality. Logistically, it will be demanding — but I cannot wait.

02/03/2026

My first ski touring trip! I spent three days in the Valley of the Five Polish Lakes, taking part in an avalanche safety and ski training course led by . We met through , with whom I paddled rivers in the Colombian Amazon. All signs suggest this won’t be our last adventure together — but more on that in a few months’ time.

My skiing experience amounts to just four days on the piste. While the ascents in the mountains didn’t pose much of a challenge, the descents proved far more demanding 😅 Mastering proper downhill technique will likely take me several seasons, but at least I know that ski touring and off-piste skiing are something I truly want to pursue.

I love returning to the Tatras. It was here, under my parents’ watchful eyes, that I took my first steps in the mountains and on the climbing wall. I searched for traces of my grandfather, a Tatra climber, for the spirit of Tetmajer, and for myself. It remains one of my most important points of reference.

23/02/2026

After a successful descent of the rivers of the Colombian Amazon, once all the tension had finally left me, my body reacted with weakness. In my case, this is a typical pattern before and after an expedition. Alongside the joy and excitement, I carry a great deal of stress. I am afraid of most of the things I choose to undertake. Yet I made a promise to myself that I would not allow fear to dictate how I live my life.

I often return to the words of Robyn Davidson, who in 1977 completed a solo 2,700-kilometre journey across the deserts of Australia with a dog and four camels. Her statement is a guiding light for me and captures the essence of why it is worth setting challenges beyond one’s comfort zone.

“(…) The reason that you have to face your fears is that it’s the only way that you’ll find out what is within you. There’s this wonderful quote from the Gnostic Gospels – If you bring forth what is within you, what is within you will save you. If you do not bring forth what is within you, what you do not bring forth will destroy you.

When you come to a boundary and you feel fearful about getting across it, the question to ask is – in whose interests is it that I stay on this side of that boundary?”

🤍

// Photographed by

18/02/2026

Do zobaczenia! 👋🏻

📚🌍 Kozienicki Klub Podróżnika znów wyrusza w drogę! 🌍📚

Zapraszamy na kolejne spotkanie!

🗓 3 marca 2026 r. (wtorek)
⏰ godz. 18:00
📍 Biblioteka Główna, ul. Jana Kochanowskiego 22

✨ Naszym gościem będzie Aleksandra Wierzbowska – dokumentalistka i podróżniczka, fotografująca wyprawy ekstremalne oraz tworząca reportaże społeczne.

📸 Jej zdjęcia i teksty publikowały m.in. National Geographic Polska i Wysokie Obcasy. Dokumentowała powódź w Pakistanie, wojnę w Ukrainie, wyprawy Mateusza Waligóry i Łukasza Supergana, a także międzynarodowy projekt Project Armenia, wyróżniony przez Royal Geographical Society.

🎒🌊 „Płynąc po siebie” – spływ rzekami Amazonii Kolumbijskiej to opowieść o niezwykłej wyprawie „Expeditión Amazonas”. Jej celem było spłynięcie packraftami fragmentów rzek Amazonii Kolumbijskiej – Rio Guayabero i Rio Guaviare – oraz przejazd motocyklem przez Andy.

🔥To jednak coś więcej niż podróżnicza relacja. Dla Aleksandry była to ekspedycja, która stała się drogą powrotu do siebie, do sprawczości, siły i niezależności po traumie, której doświadczyła. Wyprawą, która stała się impulsem do stworzenia projektu edukacyjnego 𝐃𝐫𝐨𝐠𝐚 𝐊𝐨𝐛𝐢𝐞𝐭, którego celem jest rozpoczęcie dyskusji na temat przemocy seksualnej i zwiększenie bezpieczeństwa kobiet w podróży.🧭🌿💪

✨ To będzie wieczór pełen autentycznych emocji, inspiracji i rozmów o odwadze, granicach oraz sile, która pozwala przekształcić ból w misję pomagania innym.💬💛

Serdecznie zapraszamy!🙂

wśród fanów

Kozienice

18/02/2026

The last two years have been a turning point in my life. I publicly shared the story of the ra*pe I experienced during a solo journey and founded the initiative (“The Women’s Way”), dedicated to combating se*xual vio*lence and promoting safety education.

As part of this work, I have delivered dozens of lectures, workshops, webinars, and interviews, some of them in collab with 🤍 I took part in a nationwide campaign against victim-blaming and participated in a safety conference organised by . I also became part of the project **e.

By breaking the silence surrounding se*xual vio*lence, I have spoken on ASP stage at , , , the Youth Forum in the , on national tv, radio, and in numerous magazines.

The essay in which I told my story, published in .pl , was selected as one of the 35 most important texts of all time for the 35th anniversary of . I was also recognised in the Wysokie Obcasy SUPERBOHATERKA plebiscite as one of the women changing Poland — an honour for which I am deeply grateful, as I felt I was speaking on behalf of all survivors of vio*lence, both women and men.

Above all, however, we have succeeded in creating an extraordinary community and a safe space for people to share their stories. That is the greatest value of all 🤍

These experiences gave me immense strength, but they also came at a cost. After each lecture, it took me two or three days to recover. I faced hundreds of hateful comments questioning and mocking my story. I was afraid that from now on I would be associated with only one thing — vio*lence — that it would define me. Yet it is only one fragment of a much larger story.

That is why in recent months I have stepped back slightly. I needed time to process everything and to make space for other projects.

This does not mean stepping away from . It is my lifetime mission. I simply needed to find balance 🤍

13/02/2026

Polish combat medics from W międzyczasie have been saving wounded soldiers on the Ukrainian front since 2014, often risking their own lives. I had the honour of meeting them in Ukraine and training under their guidance during a HEAT course.

War does not reveal only the worst in humanity — it can also bring out the very best. From my perspective, the work of medics who voluntarily fight to save human lives, often just a few dozen kilometres from Russian positions, represents one of the noblest forms of service. It is a level of dedication I aspire to in my own life.

However, one does not need to stand on the front line to make a real difference. You can support their work, for example, by purchasing the W międzyczasie calendar for 2026, which also features several of my photographs, or by contributing to fundraising efforts for an armoured evacuation vehicle for combat medics and the construction of a training centre in Poland. I warmly encourage you to support this initiative.

🚨 armoured ambulance: http://pomagam.pl/brdfe7
💉 support medics working in the trenches: pomagam.pl/b4t636
🏠help us build a training centre in Poland: pomagam.pl/w66d6r
☕️buycoffee.to/wmiedzyczasie
🏦PL 22 1020 4900 0000 8302 3555 3747
💸https://paypal.me/polishcombatmedic?country.x=PL&locale.x=pl_PL
📦 auctions: https://allegro.pl/charytatywni/fundacja-w-miedzyczasie/cele/na-ratunek-rannym-w-okopach-2025-1?

08/02/2026

At the beginning of 2025, when my colleagues and I travelled to Pokrovsk, several thousand civilians were still living in the city. We entered Pokrovsk alongside a specialised Ukrainian police unit known as the White Angels, responsible for evacuating residents from frontline areas. We were also supported by combat medics from the Polish foundation .

Not everyone accepted the chance to leave. The reasons for staying were deeply personal and often complex. Some could not bear the thought of abandoning the graves of their parents or the homes they had spent a lifetime building. They told us they had nowhere else to go, that they would rather die where they belonged. Others were held back by illness, when body or mind refused to obey. There were those who stayed to help neighbours and relatives. There were also those who waited for the arrival of Russian forces.

At that time, Pokrovsk was shelled daily. Entire streets lay in ruins, buildings hollowed out by explosions. Drones moved through the air above the city, while the sound of the front line never fully disappeared. Each day, Ukrainian police units risked their lives attempting to save others — rescuing both people and animals, and trying to persuade those who refused evacuation to reconsider before it was too late.