Original posted on London to New York, March 28, 2010
Warsaw, Poland
AS well as providing details of places we visit en route to New York and keeping you up to date with the (printable) exploits of the inhabitants of the bus, this blog also hopes to pass on a few vital tips to travellers.
It is in that vain that anyone crossing the Polish-Lithuanian border on the Warsaw to Vilnius road is advised not to stop at the first available petrol station.
A small piece of advice, but one which could well come in handy for anyone taking this well-trampled trans-European expressway.
Stops have, like much of the trip, fallen into a regular routine, starting with a dash to the loos which is always something of an adventure to find out what awaits us.
Such a dash provided our first taste of Lithuania and it was not a good one – our trail-finding efforts sparing other members of the group from such an experience.
Thankfully, facilities on the other side of the road were rather better and provided a few options for lunch – although what appeared to be a ham and cheese roll turned out to be a ham and egg baguette which needed an industrial blast in the microwave before serving. And protective clothing before eating.
With the absence of a cash machine and no chance to change any zloty before leaving Poland, my bank is left to work out to why one of its English customers was using his card to pay for something amounting to about £2.50 in Lithuania.
The food runs at petrol stations have also become a crucial part of bus life, replenishing the stocks of crisps, drinks, sweets and occasional piece of fruit tucked around the bus.
Travel days invariably start, far too early, with the fight for the showers and breakfasts, which have ranged from a wide range of hot and cold options (the breakfasts, not showers) in Prague to a few bits of less than appetising bread, a temperamental toaster and no milk in Krakow.
After piling into our regular spots the bus and after a quick rundown of the day’s arrangements from Phil we hit the road and, almost to a man – and woman – the back half of the bus goes to sleep until the first stop.
The population of the back half of the bus has remained largely unchanged since we climbed on board in London, although Fran has drifted from the front section to take up residence as far back as she can go – given that the back seat is being kept for use by those in need of a proper recovery session.
The hardcore occupants of this section – Nick, Mike Phoebe, Freddie, Marlo, Barry, Fran and myself – are most often in need of some sleep and recovery time after the night before.
As well as sleeping, there’s plenty of borrowing spare bits of kit – largely from Freddie’s Quartermaster Stores – sampling of Nick’s various flavours of TicTacs, more sleeping, recounting tales of the previous night’s activities, sleeping, blog writing, watching the world go by, listening to iPods and, in Phoebe’s case, raiding my iTunes. With added sleeping when needed.
One disadvantage of being towards the back is that we are usually the last to see the rooming list which gets sent down the bus for us to choose which rooms we are in.
Having shared with all the guys in the first week, there’s been no problems. Whether they are as happy to put up with my snoring (far from the only one, just the loudest apparently) is another matter…
Thought it was time to give you a run down of life on the bus because much of our time in Poland has been dominated by a couple of very long drives, from Prague to Krakow and then the current trip from Warsaw to Vilnius.
The other dominant factor in Poland since we rolled in on Thursday has been the Second World War and the crushing effects it had on this country.
The trip to Auschwitz has certainly been the major event, but it would be wrong to let that overshadow the country which has been our home for three nights.
It is not the prettiest. It shows the scars of its economic problems clearly, particularly in the countryside as we wander through, and the cities are largely shaped by German destruction and Soviet post-war rebuilding when aesthetics were not high on the agenda.
But amid the greyness, there are a few gems to be found if you are willing to peak behind the grey facade.
Krakow has charm, particularly around the old town and Jewish Quarter – where you can get a mighty fine scoff for just a few beans – while Warsaw boasts an impressive old town, rebuilt as accurately as possible after the war, and a lively central area which proved very handy for a night out. Shame it is surrounded by such grimness.
Grim is one way to describe our first introduction to Poland, the golden arch of the American Embassy luring us into a service station.
Unfortunately, the McDonalds sign was the only thing finished and with driver Martins needing to stop to keep his hours in check, we were left with little option than to use the rankest portaloos this side of Glastonbury.
Unfortunately, the length of drive that day scuppered the planned detour to Auschwitz, whose postponement to the next day, combined with a Warsaw traffic jam, also put paid to a planned trip to a salt mine.
We took all this upheaval with a pinch of salt (boom, boom) and settled into the Krakow hostel to make full use of the facilities, particularly the free shots in the downstairs bar. Followed by a few more and beers at around £1.70. It seemed rude not to.
Warsaw provided a bit more culture with a trip to the Polish Uprising Museum, the tale of the ultimately doomed resistance against the Nazis in the Second World War.
Very enlightening and entertaining, if a bit hard to follow at times. It certainly shows what a rough time, putting it lightly, the Poles have had as victims of geography to be sandwiched between the Germans and Russians.
A quick trip into the old town coincided with the end of the Warsaw Marathon and segued into something of a boys night out in town.
What goes on tour, must stay on tour (unless you absolutely have to know), but safe to say a good time was had by all, once we had avoided a major diplomatic incident.
And there was much sleeping on the bus the next morning…
