Peculair Poland - Warsaw & Hostel

All day on a train across Lithuania and into the surprisingly lovely countryside of Poland brought me to Central Station in Warsaw. I hadn’t planned on stopping in Warsaw but with limited transportation options out of Latvia and Lithuania, Warsaw made the most sense. From Warsaw you can easily get to anywhere in Europe.

Exit the station, get my bearings, and start walking. That’s what I like to do when I first arrive at a destination. Less than 30 minutes later, after a quick stop at an ATM, I arrived at a Hostel. I checked into a 6 bed dorm and introduced myself to two Dutch guys who also just arrived.

Since leaving Mongolia I’ve been staying in a lot of hostel dorms with 4 to 6 beds. You never know who your company will be but usually it’s fine and nearly impossible not to make new friends. That is the main appeal for many who stay at hostels and lately I’ve been enjoying that aspect. The funny thing for me is that Hostels in Europe usually attract a younger crowd. Right now I’m probably the only one over 30, where I’m staying, but people in Europe usually think I’m about 10 years younger than I really am. Sometimes I wonder if I may have backpacked 20 years ago with some of the younger crowds parents. Geez, listen to me, I'm talking like I'm middle aged, gettin old, or somethin?....

The key to a pleasant fun experience with a younger people at a hostel is to just go with it. When I returned from dinner last night most everyone was sitting around drinking and getting ready to go out. Two Dutch guys offered me a beer so I obliged. A 23 year old Canadian financial grad, one week into his first trip abroad, polished off a fifth of Gin and asked me what I thought of the United States Debt problem. Before I could answer he commented that America is screwed. I couldn’t disagree but I also couldn’t get a word in edgewise to explain the resiliency of Americans and their ability to overcome most anything. As the Canadian bounced out of the room I noticed a Finn with a Mohawk that looked like a fin. He was being coolly unsociable and I asked if I could take a picture of him. He complacently gave an Ok but I’m sure he took my request as a compliment.

The six bed dorm included myself, the two Dutch guys, two Polish women who I keep thinking are German for some reason, and a Polish guy with a large belly who snores like a freight train. Aside of the big Polish guy everyone was fine. The Dutch guys came in late but were super quiet. The girls went to sleep about the same time I did. The snoring Pole was a really nice guy but not one of us will be sharing a room with him tonight as we have all moved from room 7 to room 8 while he was away.

Warsaw is turning out to be a nice surprise. The city was originally bombed to oblivion during World War 2 but rebuilt with salvaged materials by a mix of qualified and unqualified labor. The result is a remarkably well restored city that looks more authentic than some restored cities that have never seen a piece of shrapnel. The old section is surrounded by modern post war architecture but it’s done well with a nice appeal.

I had originally planned to sneak in a quick visit to Krakow before heading to Budapest but for now I’ll have to skip Krakow. I’ll be heading to Budapest tomorrow. I learned something interesting today. When purchasing a ticket at the counter ask at least two different agents about the price. Today I knew what train I wanted but didn’t know the cost. I went to one counter and they said 150 Polish whatever’s. Sorry, I don’t know what they call the currency here but I get 3 of them for $1 USD. Anyway, I went to another counter and asked the price for the same train, cheapest ticket, and the price was 326 Polish whatever's. I go back to the other counter and get the ticket for 115 Polish whatever’s. Hmmm? Not sure I understand how the ticket pricing works but in the end I came out quite well. I don't know how the price got so good! Maybe they gave me a student discount or something. No complaints on my end!

Poland is a funny place and although I didn’t grow up around any Polish immigrants Polish jokes use to be quite common in the States. For example, yesterday when the train made its first stop in Poland the only person to get on was a guy with a ladder. Sounds like the start of a joke. Doesn’t it? But that’s what really happened. Also, When we arrived at Central Station, in Warsaw, the escalator to get out of the underground platform was working going down but not working going up. A portly old lady in front of me struggled with a heavy suitcase so I carried it up for her as she complained in Polish the whole time. Maybe she didn’t want my help? Or, was she thanking me? Maybe she thought I was trying to take her suitcase from her?

Unfortunately I won't have time to get to know the peculiarities of Poland this time around but it does strike me as an interestingly peculiar country.