krakow
Booked a sleeper cabin for the journey from Berlin. Left from Lichtenburg station which is the most eastern I had been in the city. Bleak is an understatement. I had hoped that I would have the cabin all to myself. No such luck, two Polish blokes bailed in. It was a 6 berth cabin. Ah well. Then a Mother and Daughter. What grated me was it was the only cabin on the whole carriage that was occupied and I had about 4 cubic feet of space to store my stuff. Every storage area was already jammed with all manner of things. I went for a smoke on the platform, the train was not due to depart for a while. I was careful to take care of my valuables!
At the platform, three Spainards came along. They were having problems trying to get on board. They hadn't made a reservation. The train guy let them on for a handsome fee. I asked them where they were going; Russia. Had they a visa? No. They confidently brandished their Spanish national ID cards. I tried to talk them off the train as the Russians would most certainly turn them back at the border. 'Manana' indeed. Then they kept asking me questions as the train guy couldn't understand their English. Where can they smoke? Why hasn't he given them tickets? Is there a buffet? I suffered them for a while as one of the girls was a little cutie. In the end, I let them know that I wasn't working for the train company. I wonder if they liked Russia!
The funny thing about my cabin-frustration is that I read today that it's not uncommon for the cabin to be gassed. I ain't talking farts either. The occupants fall into a deep sleep and awake to see everything is gone. Thank God for my co-habitees.
I have found the Polish people to be universally polite. Come here and look at a queue for an ATM. They stand some 8 feet back from the person who is at the machine! I have noticed a gentle kindness in them. Once I was walking down a side road and I noticed a car slow down so as to avoid spraying me with water from a large pool. It wasn't the last time I noticed it either. Where I come from they would have a right old laugh to drench a pedastrain. Using the tiolets here are funny. A circle denoted ladies, a triangle for blokes. Strange Orwellian thing. Naturally I plumped for the wrong one on my first attempt. Also, you have to pay regardless of whether it's a pub, restaurant. Nice little earner.
Krakow itself is a medieval city. The town square was the largest in Europe during the era. It is dotted with many churches and a lot of pretty buildings. I found myself in an Irish bar on the first evening. I was amused by the sign on the door -'No kebabs allowed'. Hadn't known them to be drinkers! I agree with such a prohibition though, nasty little f*ckers! I was even more amused by Manchester Uniteds exit from the Champions League. A guy from Kildare ran the pub. Nice bloke but still a Manc! I think he got fed up with my goading. I was drinking beer with a high alcoholic content (unknown to me at the time) and one bloke nearly provoked me into hitting him. He is from Tallaght and his humour is of the smart ar*e, condesending variety. I wasn't going to put up with some gobsh*ite trying to give me sh*t. Such humour is very much the de rigeur with some Dubliners. I restrained myself though. Got lost on the way back to the hostel. A 10 minute walk became a 40 minute taxi journey. Ah well.
The next day I met a decent spud who hails from Austrailia, of Greek origin, living in London. Got all that? We met on the way to the death camp. Nearly got lost en route too. Got off at the wrong station. After we returned to Krakow, we arranged to meet later for beers. Beers indeed. A Polish beer hall, followed by a nightclub. There, I indulged in my usual silly drunken dancing routine. I think the locals were competing with me in ridiculous movements. Good to be among equally inept dancefloor folk. More significant were the wonderful sights. The exposed female mid-rift abounded. All beautiful women. Clearly sculptered by a grand master and things of great marvel. The music was okay but I gave little thought to its artistic integrity, the aesthetic was my thing. It was a great night.
Was still drunk when I woke up.
At the platform, three Spainards came along. They were having problems trying to get on board. They hadn't made a reservation. The train guy let them on for a handsome fee. I asked them where they were going; Russia. Had they a visa? No. They confidently brandished their Spanish national ID cards. I tried to talk them off the train as the Russians would most certainly turn them back at the border. 'Manana' indeed. Then they kept asking me questions as the train guy couldn't understand their English. Where can they smoke? Why hasn't he given them tickets? Is there a buffet? I suffered them for a while as one of the girls was a little cutie. In the end, I let them know that I wasn't working for the train company. I wonder if they liked Russia!
The funny thing about my cabin-frustration is that I read today that it's not uncommon for the cabin to be gassed. I ain't talking farts either. The occupants fall into a deep sleep and awake to see everything is gone. Thank God for my co-habitees.
I have found the Polish people to be universally polite. Come here and look at a queue for an ATM. They stand some 8 feet back from the person who is at the machine! I have noticed a gentle kindness in them. Once I was walking down a side road and I noticed a car slow down so as to avoid spraying me with water from a large pool. It wasn't the last time I noticed it either. Where I come from they would have a right old laugh to drench a pedastrain. Using the tiolets here are funny. A circle denoted ladies, a triangle for blokes. Strange Orwellian thing. Naturally I plumped for the wrong one on my first attempt. Also, you have to pay regardless of whether it's a pub, restaurant. Nice little earner.
Krakow itself is a medieval city. The town square was the largest in Europe during the era. It is dotted with many churches and a lot of pretty buildings. I found myself in an Irish bar on the first evening. I was amused by the sign on the door -'No kebabs allowed'. Hadn't known them to be drinkers! I agree with such a prohibition though, nasty little f*ckers! I was even more amused by Manchester Uniteds exit from the Champions League. A guy from Kildare ran the pub. Nice bloke but still a Manc! I think he got fed up with my goading. I was drinking beer with a high alcoholic content (unknown to me at the time) and one bloke nearly provoked me into hitting him. He is from Tallaght and his humour is of the smart ar*e, condesending variety. I wasn't going to put up with some gobsh*ite trying to give me sh*t. Such humour is very much the de rigeur with some Dubliners. I restrained myself though. Got lost on the way back to the hostel. A 10 minute walk became a 40 minute taxi journey. Ah well.
The next day I met a decent spud who hails from Austrailia, of Greek origin, living in London. Got all that? We met on the way to the death camp. Nearly got lost en route too. Got off at the wrong station. After we returned to Krakow, we arranged to meet later for beers. Beers indeed. A Polish beer hall, followed by a nightclub. There, I indulged in my usual silly drunken dancing routine. I think the locals were competing with me in ridiculous movements. Good to be among equally inept dancefloor folk. More significant were the wonderful sights. The exposed female mid-rift abounded. All beautiful women. Clearly sculptered by a grand master and things of great marvel. The music was okay but I gave little thought to its artistic integrity, the aesthetic was my thing. It was a great night.
Was still drunk when I woke up.
posted by Ciarán at 8:55 p.m.
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