Someone is banging on the door. I feel terrible. I stagger over to the door in my boxers and it’s one of the hostel staff. “Check out was several minutes ago.” Sorry, just getting moving now. She shakes her head in disgust and moves on. I turn around and see Murphy made it home – and he’s face down with half a bare ass visible from the door. That’s not what I wanted to see this morning.
Fall back asleep and more banging on the door. “Check out was an HOUR ago!” Sorry, just finishing packing up. “I DON’T CARE.”
We stagger out. Across the parking lot from the Moon Hostel is a cafe with beer, hair of the dog it is. They have Uzbek-style plov (aka P-Love) and a rabbit dish called “Some Bunny to Love”, both extraordinary.
After three beers we’re feeling legitimately good again, just drinking in some parking lot cafe, not giving a fuck is great. No plan and no cares. Let’s get some more. It almost feels like we slept more than two hours last night. The music is great too, 60s and 70s hard rock tunes, at our request the bartender cranks up “Who Are You?” Alright let’s get to the mall – slash – bus station!
We walk a good half-hour and the city seems great but we’ve gotta boogie. At the bus station we ask about Krakow and the attendant brushes us aside and says “Ask the train.” What does that mean? The train station’s across the road so after getting lost in the mall again we get over there, say “Krakow?” to a cashier, get charged thirty bucks and are handed a ticket we can’t understand at all. One of the numbers looks like it might be the platform so we go up but there’s a different train there.
Time to play “Ask a Hot Chick”, where we approach a hot chick, ask if she speaks English, plead ignorance/stupidity and see what happens. A dark-haired cutie tells us we have to check the departure board and even gladly leads us over to it. A friend of hers randomly runs into her and we score a bonus scorcher on today’s Ask a Hot Chick.
Thanks hot chicks. Looks like the train is running late. Beers? Beers.
The mini-market in the train station doesn’t have any so we settle for water, mini pizza bread thingies and kielbasa. This Kielbasa is great. Until your breath melts the paint off the walls. Time for the freshmaker
After the lull we feel our buzzes drop off. Hope this train has a drinking car (known by some as a “dining car”). When we saddle up we find it does, but we’re running low on energy, and smashing a few more beers helps some but not a lot.
Sun goes down as we cross Poland. Not much to look at on the ride. Just trees flying by on both sides and when they open it’s farmland. Sunset is decent though.
When we arrive we walk out to a modern city, doesn’t look anything like what we left in Wroclaw, no real character to what we’re walking past.
It’s the Coors Light of Poland.
Why is this happening? We don’t know
We’re tired and kind of drunk and mostly useless and spend a good thirty minutes fucking up and basically going around in a circle. Finally we come to a street with some hostels and hotels and even though we have no idea whether we’re anywhere near the city’s Old Town (the apparent draw of the place) I’m beat and suggest we just grab a random place and Murphy concurs. We walk into One World Hostel.
Up some stairs and bang on a heavy wooden door and it opens with two young, cute ladies smiling at us. “Hi!” .. “Hi!”, they respond. They giggle and scamper away. We start to walk in and see another girl rush past wearing a towel and giggling. I don’t think this is the door to reception but so far so good.
Up another flight of stairs and we find reception. Never seen origami tanks before.
They’ve got an eight-bunk dorm room we can have to ourselves, unfortunately not filled with giggling towel girls and feather pillow fights. Beers? Beers.
We don’t really know where to go but try a few restaurants, everything’s closing except for a kebab shop. No beer but it’s delicious.
We double back to a cool underground bar in a brick vault and order up some cocktails from a funny bartender – my card gets rejected and he cheerily says “No problem, you can wash dishes!”
Strike up a conversation with a couple of Sheffielders, Anthony and Dean, here for five days just to get away for a bit. Some wild tattoos on them, like a snake down one arm right onto the hand. Funny guys though, we’re cracking them up taking shit about each other. They ask if we’ll be around tomorrow night, if so we should meet them for some drinks – same place, around eight? We don’t plan on sticking around but agree if we’re around we’ll stop in. The bar wraps things up and we drag our tired asses back to our eight bed dorm room.