One hour before I am due to get on the bus for this 30 hour journey I discover something! Somehow or other, by one of those bizzarre mental glitches we all suffer from every so often, I have managed to book my ticket to Warsaw.......but I'm expecting to arrive in Krakow and have booked all my accomodation there! (and I hadn't even noticed when I printed it out!) So there I am, 40 minutes standing in a queue at Victoria coach station before a very nice lady changes it all for me so that I'm now going where I thought I was. Unfortunately this change then confuses the bus driver, whose list of passengers says I'm travelling to Warsaw...so we have to go through all the explanations....and this is when the next inkling of a problem sort of waves a little flag at me! He doesn't speak a word of English, neither does the driver's mate, nor do (apparantly) any of the other passengers!
Finally we get underway in a really full coach, as far as Dover where they somehow manage to squeeze another six passengers on board (and their luggage) I'm sure the coach is going to burst!
Sitting there in the coach I discover that the "White Cliffs of Dover" are actually about one third a dirty grey colour where rough concrete patches have been plastered on to stop the cliffs from crumbling. Then through passport control, surprisingly cursory after the passport checks I've become used to going over to Ireland, and we're off....to the queue for the ferry, which isn't in yet, so we sit there, and it's pissing it down outside, and inside the airconditionning is off and everyone seems to be eating garlic sausage sandwiches, so the atmosphere is getting a little rich!
Calais, and it's a very eerie sight, it's golden beaches shorouded in a thin white mist. By this point I've realised that all on board announcements are in Polish, and I'm left looking around hoping that someone will take pity on me and explain the jist in a few words of English. And I start thinking about the linguistic task I've set myself. Wherever I've been before I've been able to at least get by in one of the common languages spoken in a country, or been with people who can do that. In Poland it will be different, although at least I've got a minor grounding in the language so will be able to manage the equivalent of baby talk. But it gets me thinking about those people who have to uproot themselves either by choice or under compulsion, and end up permenantly in a country where both language and culture are alien to them. Much respect to them, just a month is a daunting thought, a whole lifetime is terrifying!
A DVD comes on, the first of three I'm to see on this journey....it may be an English language film, but it's voiced over in Polish. Actually, during the journey I come to realise quite how bizzarre these voice overs are. I'ts always the same male voice (well, it was for the three I saw) and he does ALL the voices in a curiously unemotional monotone.
There's STILL no air conditioning, the air temperature is high, people seem to have moved onto vampire strength garlic sausage now, and the toddler in front of me is having his nappy changed, and the atmosphere seems to have thickened perceptibly. Then the toddler starts a tantrum, the bloke next to me turns up his MP3, and I realise that my earplugs are safely packed in my suitcase, which is safely in the luggage compartment.
By 5.30 I wake up from a surprisingly sound sleep to pre-dawn light and REAL deep forests on either side of the road, the sort that make me think of fairy tales, and wolves. Then a red double decker train pulls up alongside and passes me and I remember how 20 years ago my son was fascinated by them when we visited berlin the year before the wall came down. A strange encounter at Berlin Bus Station with a wierd self cleaning loo seat! When I get up the back of the loo suddenly sticks out an extra bit and the seat starts to revolve!
The ticket change causes even more chaos during the coach changeover, but finally I'm seated and listening to German commercial breakfast radio, and the weather forecast is not kind, rain and grey skies all over Europe.
Sixteen hours down, just another nine hours to go!
Well i can't criticize you for booking the wrong destination. Although on a less important journey, i did manage to talk all week of going to Bolton, and on the day i bought a ticket to Preston. It gave Gary a good laugh...lol
ReplyDeleteGlad you safely on the way, and got you travel sorted. I look forward to reading more :-)