In the past, Wojciech Kurowski quietly made a name for himself by infiltrating the Warsaw hotel industry with projects like the SixtySix. It was the type of company that indicated luxury with elegant restraint rather than shouting it. Later, as he pursued more ambitious goals in Zakopane, offering investors sophisticated returns through condo hotels tucked away in the Tatras seemed like a logical next step.

However, that optimistic, snow-capped image started to fall apart. Rezydencja Gubałówka, the focal point of this scheme, was intended to serve as the foundation for a portfolio of mountain getaways. However, that same house is now at the center of a bankruptcy case involving around PLN 58 million. a precipitous decline, particularly because just one of the anticipated advancements came to pass.
Wojciech Kurowski – Background and Legal Context
| Name | Wojciech Kurowski |
|---|---|
| Known for | Businessman, real estate developer, stepfather of influencer Andziaks |
| Company | Optima Development Poland (ODP) |
| Key Asset | Gubałówka Residence, Zakopane – previously valued at PLN 11.2 million |
| Legal Status | Bankruptcy declared; assets under court-appointed trustee Alerion |
| Major Liability | PLN 57.8 million (significantly exceeding assets) |
| Controversy | Accused of mismanaging funds, drawing income while creditors went unpaid |
| External Source |
Kurowski formed and oversaw Optima Development Poland (ODP), although he has since lost control of the organization. A Kraków court turned over its complex operations to a trustee, Alerion, whose CEO, Karol Tatara, is currently in charge of a laborious cleansing. According to Tatara, a significant deal involving the Zakopane property in December 2019 was “invalid and detrimental,” a term that is both scathing and formal.
Records indicate that Kurowski made money from the business despite its demise. Even though it was somewhat out of the company’s hands, the house brought in money. Bondholders and investors, many of whom had relied on Kurowski’s professional appearance and assured presentations, were left waiting at the same time. According to reports, some have been requesting restitution for years with no obvious way to be satisfied.
The figures are not the only thing that hurts. Creditors are especially resentful of how long the façade of trustworthiness persisted. Kurowski was frequently spotted mingling with celebrities and giving the impression that his business endeavors were supported by both charm and money. That picture has significantly diminished.
By 2022, Kurowski was no longer a visionary in the hospitality industry but rather a person coming under growing legal investigation, according to a new version of him published by the Polish business press. He was labeled as someone “earning income from a Zakopane residence built with money that bondholders are unsuccessfully demanding back” in one story, which was blatantly hurtful. That sentence lingers in your memory because it feels like the conclusion of a delusion, in addition to being direct.
The Gubałówka Residence itself continues to be an oddly lyrical icon. Gorgeous, lofty, and picturesque—but now in the heart of something far more somber and gloomy. Full payback is improbable, even if Tatara and his team are successful in reclaiming and selling the land. The numbers just don’t add up. Liabilities were valued at PLN 57.8 million in Optima’s most recent restructuring filings. Even a hopeful combination of the assets won’t close that difference.
The mess that has been left in the company’s books just makes things more complicated. The likelihood of a speedy settlement has been greatly diminished by unclear transfers, incomplete records, and unclear transfers. However, the courts at least provided one distinct change: Kurowski lost control when they forced bankruptcy and put ODP under judicial management.
Creditors’ claims are not nuanced. They contend that throughout the company’s decline toward insolvency, Kurowski kept receiving large personal remuneration. They wonder how a man could defend taking money out of a company that was losing investor capital. Their main source of annoyance is their perception that he acted consciously, choosing profit before morality even though he knew the numbers didn’t line up.
There is a deeper tale here as well, one that relates to the unbridled euphoria surrounding real estate in a number of European regions. The condo-hotel model appeared especially promising for a while. The concept was straightforward yet enticingly presented: divide a complex into privately held apartments, provide investors with rental revenue, and allow the profits from the hospitality industry to cover the remaining margins. However, those models become fragile when margins disappear—when travel slows down or debt becomes too big.
However, these circumstances seldom take place in a spectacular manner. They slowly seep out through court decisions and newspaper columns, with each revelation revealing yet another layer of denial or delay. Kurowski has not yet addressed many of the financial irregularities in public. There are no lucid interviews or explanations—just the quiet progression of legal procedures.
The trustee’s work is currently meticulous. Sell what’s left. Untangle what is traceable. Give the debtors who have been waiting the longest priority. Smaller properties, such as residences on Chałubińskiego Street and guesthouses in Kościelisko, are among the assets still listed on the docket; each may provide a modest portion of repayment.
However, the complete return to investors is unattainable even in the best of situations. Some bondholders already use the past tense when discussing their losses since they no longer hope for anything more than a lesson. Some people still hope for something more substantial—a sense that justice might be more than a spreadsheet calculation—especially those who trusted Kurowski’s early record.
