Part 1 - Perogies from heaven

I just got back from my vacation to Poland for John and Monica's wedding. I've been looking forward to this for over a year, and I'm a little upset that it's already over. The plan was to head over to Poland for the wedding, then maybe visit Prague and Berlin before heading off to somewhere else. A couple weeks before leaving I changed my plan to go to Barcelona instead of Greece, which might not have been the best choice... but more about that later. Phil and his buddy Billy left for Poland a few days before me, along with his brother John, Monica, her friend Tamara, and an assortment of family. Before I made it there I had heard that Phil and Bill were loving it there, but nothing more.

Day 1 - A shoe? Who throws up in a shoe?
I had no idea what to expect from Poland. I was expecting it to be halfway between touristy Prague and the wild west of Romania. I figured things would be very diluted and westernized from the communist days, and I wished I had seen the country in a bit raw-er of a state. Maybe like how the former east Berlin was when I first saw it. Yeah, it was cleaned up, but it still had such a gritty feel.

I met my stepmother Julie with her mother in the airport, and we met up with Paul, Monica's dad, who came with two friends from home. After an interesting attempt to find the car rental garage, we picked up our cars and began our autobahn trip. I was in a Skoda Octavia, and Paul somehow managed to end up with a diesel Alfa Romeo. Mine was a 115hp 1.6. It was slow. Same chassis as the Passat, probably weighs about the same. Brutal accelleration, but we still managed to cruise very nicely at 170-180.

After arriving in Bolesławiec, the first story I heard from Phil and Bill was about the fight they got into the night before. Not what I wanted to hear. Apparently they were just hanging out outside the hotel and asked a passerby if they could take a picture of him and Billy. Phil dropped the camera when passing it to the guy. When he bent over to pick it up he got kicked in the face by the guys' buddy. John was there too, and a major scrap entailed. The Polish guys were reaching into his pocket for something, so they got a little freaked out, not knowing if it was a gun. They went into the hotel and hid out while the guys tried to break in.

It turned out that the guys were off-duty cops. They've been giving a lot of the locals problems, and that their report was going to be instrumental in getting them reprimanded. Exactly what I wanted to hear as soon as I got into town. I was convinced we were going to be beaten and killed by a gang lead by these guys. They came by the next day and apologized for what they did. Maybe they'll be able to keep their jobs after all.

That evening we headed off to Monica's aunt's house to meet the rest of the family. Everyone was awesome, and we were instantly treated like family. I remember being introduced to all the aunts and uncles, Anja, then Magda, Woytek and the kids, and it's starting to get a little fuzzy. We ate perogies and all kinds of different salads. After we made a trip to the corner store for some more beer. I vaguely remember talking to Magda, who is originally from Poland, but spent most of her life in the US. Phil asked me in Greek if I liked her.

I don't speak Greek. In my life I've barely said two words voluntarily, and only then because someone was making fun of me for not being Greek. After Phil asked me that I told him in Greek to "shut up, my stupid". Doesn't translate too well. I don't even know if that was appropriate, but whatever, I said it. The rest of the night is a bit of a blur. I remember telling the story of the only other time I spoke Greek, only I told it in Greek!?! I went on and on and on. I remember saying bye to everyone, and I also remember getting to kiss on the cheek three times (so much nicer than the Canadian one, or the Greek two).

Everything would have been fine if I hadn't spotted the bottle of scotch. I offered some to Magda and Julie, who are not scotch drinkers. I told them I'd finish it for them if they didn't like it. They didn't. I poured Magda a full glass, I don't know if I was trying to get her drunk or what. They told me I was drinking it like it was water. Oops.

Next thing I remember was cleaning puke out of my shoe back at our hotel.

Day 2 - Shoe shopping
I wasn't the only one who was looking for new shoes. I kept mine, but I figured it was probably in bad taste to wear them to the wedding. Phil needed a pair too, so we did some shopping in the town square. It's a very small city. You have to zoom fairly far for it to even show on Google Earth. People there are just not used to that many outsiders. It was perfect. There were no tourists, no people trying to take advantage of us, nothing. It gave a very nice look into the way things really are.

Everyone, especially the elders seemed quite stoic. We must have seemed like grinning fools. Food and clothes are very cheap. I ended up with two pairs of shoes, both costing around 120 zwoty, or $40 Canadian. I couldn't believe it. Food from $5 for a full meal, beer from $1 a pint. Ridiculously cheap, and really good.

I think this is where we started drinking. After the night before obviously I was going to take a bit of the night off, right? Yeah right, this is Poland. We just drank in the hotel's bar. We met someone from England who was using Magda as a translator for his disinterested Polish girlfriend. It was a laugh. This is where it gets blurry again. I think this is where I may have started overusing the phrase "the most beautiful woman in Poland" in reference to Magda, but I'm not quite sure. Most of what I've heard about this night has been from other people.

This was the second morning in a row where events from the night before would replay and I'd giggle uncontrollably at myself. This is also where I started learning the most essential words for travel within Poland. Piwo is beer. Wotka is vodka. Woda is water. Dziynkuje is thank you. Na zdrowie is cheers. Yes and no are tak and nie. Oh, and we said chesh or chesht (sp) for hi and bye.

Day 3 - The wedding
I can't get over the strangers in Poland. Everyone had dressed up for the wedding and we were waiting to board the bus outside the hotel. There were maybe 50 of us gathered around John and Monica. People walking down the street would come up and shake hands. There were people hanging out their windows, trying to get a glimpse of what was going on. It was surreal. I was half expecting people's open hands to be asking for money, not giving congratulations.

We took the drive down to Jelena Gora for the wedding in the Greek church. Even after reading the sign on the door I still don't understand how it exists. There are no pews in the church. The wedding it's self was nice. The priest had a little difficulty doing part of the service in Greek, but it all went well. There was a choir upstairs that did a great job too. It was the only wedding done in that church in recent times, and quite possibly ever.

After we needed a quick bite, so we made a quick run to the McDonald's. Yeah, I hate doing McDonald's on vacation. Did I say cheap? Three combos for $10. By the time we made it back the bus had left and had abandoned John and Monica, so we took them to the castle instead. This is also where I saw my first part of the shady side of Poland. There were a couple bums making a scene outside the church, as well as another kid trying to sell something. I was going to pay them to leave (I didn't learn the word yesht yet, which means go - leave), but I was worried that they'd all come out of the woodwork trying to squeeze some juice from Santa Claus in the charcoal suit.

This is where things got blurry. Haha, just kidding, not yet. The reception was in the castle, which was a bit outside of the town of Bolesławiec. The hotel rooms in the castle were very nice. In our case we ended up in the handicapped room. Was that a sign of what was going to happen over the next two nights?

Johnica had a horse drawn carriage bring them into the castle. At the front gates there was a big production when they came in. I didn't get most of it, but there was a lot of singing, and I think they broke some glass. The reception was a lot of fun. I don't want to complain about the food, but when I was pretty much done my chicken I noticed that it was a little pink. I don't know if there was ham stuffed inside, or if it was uncooked. Lost appetite.

Okay, now this is where things get hazy. Did I mention that Polish people like to drink Wodka? I made the mistake of making eye contact with a few too many people across the table while they had shot glasses in their hands. Because of their proximity, Phil and Billy were sucked in to taking shots too.

Magda graciously offered to translate Phil's speech, and luckily that happened relatively early in the night. He pulled it off quite well. He had enough shots to make it sound like he wasn't reading it, but not enough to make an ass of himself... yet.

Continuing the tradition of speaking Greek and running around like a mad man, this night was even nuttier than the previous ones. Most of this I only remember because of the pictures. I mean the next morning I woke up with what I thought was a snake bite on my ass, and I had no idea how it got there.

We were dancing all night, burning bills to Greek music, 50's era rock 'n roll, salsa, Polish music, and I honestly have no idea what else. I have a vague recollection of grabbing the garter and dancing with Magda who caught the bouquet. We were all over the place. I loved dancing with Anja. She's just so good that I actually felt like I knew what I was doing. She's so full of energy and passion it made me realize why people actually like to dance. Not to mention how good it feels to dance with such a beautiful woman!

I somehow ended up spending some time talking politics with a German and a Polish guy. Cool guys, but I have no idea how I ended up talking about that! I try to avoid politics at all costs. It just makes me so angry.

That's all I can remember from the night. I saw some pictures where I fell on the ground in a puddle. I think Phil landed on top of me, jockeying for position for the garter. There was some cake, but I think I dumped my plate on the table. I only heard the next day that Phil went up for another speech, with Magda translating again. His last line? I love you motherfuckers! She didn't need to translate that.

The next day strangers from the wedding would come up to Phil, say his name and laugh.

Day 4 - The hangover
First actual hangover of the trip for me. Surprising. I was in really rough shape. Every other day I had woken up, walked to the breakfast table and Paul would greet me with "George, how are you doing today, hahahaha!" I would reply "absolutely great," and I meant it. Not this morning.

The party continued though, right from where it left off. For lunch the music started up again, and we had perogies again. Everyone was singing songs at the lunch table. Singing and singing and singing. I was told that they were dirty songs, about what Johnica were doing, or were going to be doing. According to the Polish family we looked like zombies. We left the table halfway through lunch and chilled out.

We took a nap, walked around the castle, and gathered ourselves. We didn't know the party was starting so early, and we also didn't know it was ending so fast. By the time we got back the party was winding down. People were starting to leave, many of them had a long way to go. So we of course took advantage of the last of the open bar. We drank the rest of the vodka and started it all over again.

We decided that a trip to the pool was in order. It was off the hook. We were drinking vodka straight out of the bottle inside the pool. We would never have been able to get away with anything like that at home. It was only about 5 feet deep, but we were cannonballing off the side. John dove in off a spout. It was ridiculous. After I took my fifth shower of the day (a new record!), and we continued the party in Johnica's room.

Everyone who was left at the party came up to the room and things got crazy. Phil busted out his Frank Sinatra, I spoke my fluent Greek, translating the songs. Singing along to Bob Marley. Talking about things that didn't need to be discussed. I loved every minute! Judging by the pictures we should all have more bruises. There are few pictures with everybody vertically oriented. I got very little sleep.

Day 5 - Recovery in Wrocław
In the morning we went back to Bolesławiec to recover. The plan was to go out to Wrocław to grab a rental car for Julie. She was going to drive it to Prague the next day, and we were going to go straight to Berlin after. It was Julie, Billy and me for the 100k ride. I had a bit of an ordeal getting gas, not knowing how to work the pump. You need a key. When I walked in to pay it turned out I was actually in the restaurant next door. They looked at me like I was an idiot, and pointed to the gas station. Oops.

The highway was in rough shape. There was an English guy I was speaking to at the wedding who said that corruption is so bad in Poland that they paid to have the highway built, but it was only done half as thick as it needed to be. Now they're rebuilding it. The construction was ridiculous. Fully half of the distance to Wrocław was under construction. They would close down one direction of the highway and divert traffic into the other. The thing was nobody was working on it! There were small crews of three or four people, mostly standing around. One would be doing work, one would be looking at him do it, and the other two were talking to each other. I couldn't believe it.

Each 5k stretch of closed highway had an average of three people working on it. This was over 50k of construction! There were bridges that were being painted. None of them were finished. Most of them were abandoned halfway through. We drove by (probably the only) two guys working on a bridge. They were using hand brushes.

By the time we made it to Wrocław and found the rental place it was closed. It wasn't meant to be. However, we did get a chance to eat McDonald's again! Ugh. I haven't mentioned my eating and drinking habits yet, did I? One meal a day, one piss a day. The rest of my calories came from beer and vodka, and I was dehydrated like you wouldn't believe. That food tasted like it was from heaven. On the bright side there were a couple hot sunbathers in the middle of the town square. When we got back I took a long nap. By the time I was finally motivated to get up it was the evening. I was in a very good mood having slept so much. When I came to the bar downstairs I already felt drunk. All the family was there, and were so happy to see us.

Phil, Bill and Johnica met these people downstairs from Scarborough and Mississauga, coincedentally enough. It turns out Peter grew up one neighbourhood south of me, and now he lives one neighbourhood south of me. Freaky, eh? I'll leave it at that.

It was sad to say bye to the family. I didn't want to let go. This is the night where I started my drunk 'n dialing. It gets expensive at $3 a minute. I still am glad I did though. Yes, this was the sober night.

Day 6 - Back to Wrocław
First thing in the morning Paul asked if I could drive Magda to Wrocław. Well, I certainly knew how to get there! I was considering going all the way to Warsaw, which is where she's going to school. I didn't realize that it was all back roads to get there. We were all quite drained by this point, so there really isn't much to write about. We took her to the train station. It was like a scene out of a movie, where we were standing on the platform waving to Magda who was hanging out the window waving.

That afternoon and evening we hung out in the town square. We ran into Peter from the night before, and we sat around and watched the soccer game and drank more beer. I didn't mean to get drunk anymore. I ordered mine with sok inside, which is this pink fruity thing. I saw some guys order it, so I thought it was okay. Turns out it was for their girlfriends. I couldn't have that in front of me, so I had to chug it. It was goot, yesss?

We made it back to the hotel for another beer. More drunk 'n text, ad nauseam (not literally).

Day 7 - Berlin
I love Berlin. Have I ever mentioned that before, because it's even more true now. I was so worried that it would be a shell of it's former self. For me Detroit, Berlin, and techno are virtually synonomous. I could go on, but I won't. I was worried that with the decline of techno's heart the same would happen to Berlin. That it faded off, became mainstream, was absorbed by something else. I was worried that with the world cup, all the visitors, and all the money it would just be another European city. Look at what's happened to Prague in such a few short years. It's gone from this undiscovered little gem into this city that's as tourist trashed as any other major European city. But I digress.

Berlin hasn't lost anything at all. It's just shifted a little. It's still the same Berlin. Dirt and grit juxtaposed by shine and optimism. It still is and always will be techno city.

Phil and Billy took a cab from Bolesławiec to Berlin. A 250km cab ride only cost $170. Our Skoda couldn't fit everyone's luggage. The drive back was nice of course. I managed to top out at 185, but that was absolutely it. I was nearly bumping the rev limiter.

We got into Berlin a little late, and discovered that our hotel was at the wrong airport. I tried to get a close hotel to the airport so that we could just hope in a cab and take off. No, we were by Schöenfeld airport, but we were leaving from Tegel, which was on the opposite side of the city. No worries though.

It was a little hard to figure out what we were going to do. We had Phil, Bill, Julie and her mother with us. We wanted to take the subway around, but Julie's mother might not be up for so much walking. So the plan was for the guys to have a look at the city, then we'd come back and all get together and drive somewhere. Yeah, right...

It took a long time to get into the city. We had to take the Airport Express train, which was about a half hour. It brought us right into the centre of the action. We went to the Zoologischer Garten and started double fisting beers. Yeah, already. I think Phil had a pretty good idea we weren't going to make it back to the hotel.

There were so many people. So many beautiful women. It was teh hotness. We ended up walking down to Victory Tower, and walked up to the top. We could see all of Tiergarten Park, and the FIFA Fan Area, which was the road to Brandenburg Gate closed off for a party. 2k of food, rides and all kinds of fun stuff.

That's where we went next. Still drinking beers. I had just finished my dönar kebab before leaving the train station, but there was this place serving gyros. The hottie behind the counter said it was "Gresche". Hehe. Not quite, but it was still really good. Greek tzatziki and gyros meat, but with Turkish bread and German coleslaw. And it was served with a fork. Surprisingly good! I love hybrids!

There were a couple chicks walking in front of us. I was very good at being undercover about pointing them out by this point. I said in Greek "look at those girls over there, the one who's wearing..." and switched to English "but I don't know how to say pink, but check that out". They stopped and we talked. The other chick was a deal breaker. Ehh, they were American anyway.

The next thing we tried was the currywurst. Not so good. Picture a hot dog with curry powder and ketchup. Come on. I was at least expecting a sausage with fast food type curry sauce. That might have been decent. Even UK McDonald's has better curry than that.

We walked around to the Reichstag and saw a small stadium with a buzz about with a game about to start. We were fairly done by this time and wondered if this was the actual game. In fact, probably up until we bought our tickets we were still marvelling at our luck for scoring front row seats for $10!

It was actually pretty good. The stadium was a scale replica of Berlin's stadium, and we got to watch the Argentina/Holland game on big screens. We drank a lot. Phil was talking about the cutie sitting beside me in English, because he heard her speaking another language. It turned out she spoke English though. Haha.

Rosemary was there with her brother and her cousin, who had planned over a year ago to watch Argentina play. I tried separating her from her family after the game, but that was a no go. Damn the world! I think she had an idea how much we had to drink when we came from the bar with 6 beers each. I was kind enough to give her one.

The sun just set by this point, so we got raped in the gift shop and headed toward the music. They were playing techno when we were walking there, but it turned into some kind of multicultural world dance music thing by the time we were in. It was pretty neat, and this is where I discovered that holey shit, Spanish chicks are hot!

That faded early, and we were pretty close to being done. But I had to find my old haunt. When I spent five days in Berlin there was one place I used to hang out most nights. It was a building that was half destroyed in WW2. After the wall came down, artists squatted in the building, and it turned into this cultural centre. Eventually came the DJs, bars, and tourists.

I remembered it being raw, rough and grimy. On the edge, nobody spoke English, nobody cared. Nobody particularly enjoyed us even being there come to think of it. The music was good, the people were fucked up, but it had such a chill vibe to it. The back was filled with sand. We hung out in the crater from the bomb that blew up the building. For me that's Berlin.

I had no idea what it was called, or where it was. All I knew was it was in the former east. I asked in the hotel if they had heard of it, and they pointed me to another tourist trap. I told Phil and Bill if we can find it in 10 minutes we'll go, but if not we'll just go back to the hotel. I asked a cabbie and he said it was right around the corner. Perfect. We were there in 5.

It was almost exactly how I remembered it. It was definitely cleaned up a bit. I think on the outside it was called hof, but I'm not sure. The people seemed to be a lot older. Physically it felt mostly the same, but the people. There was a tourist in the stairway taking pictures. Phil told him I was there before and that I said it was different. The man asked "what's different?" I told him something about the vibe and that it's not so gritty anymore, but the answer was much more obvious. Nobody spoke English.

We met some Turkish guys upstairs, but decided to go back downstairs after Phil diverted a comment about his watch. There was someone playing dub with a harmonica and a guitar. It sounded really good at this point of the night. I could have stayed all night, but we really needed some rest and we didn't really know how we were going to get back.

The train station was a five minute walk from us, so we somehow managed to decipher the station we needed to stop at to get back. I love how patient people can be with drunken idiots. We made it back to the hotel by dawn. Our wake up call was in three hours.

Part 2 - Shawarma from hell

Day 8 - Movement
I don't know how, but I was sober when we got up. I don't remember when Julie came to the door to wake us up, but we were running behind. The guys were heading home before Julie, her mom and I left, and they were late. Very late. They got together and hopped off in a 50 euro cab ride to the other airport. Ouch. I was going to take Julie and her mom for a driving tour around Berlin, but we got worried about traffic. It turned out our worries were unfounded. We spent a lot of time doing nothing in the airport.

I said bye to them and went to drop off the rental car. Then I ran into them again in the airport. I said bye again, and went through the gate. Their plane left at the same time as mine. Through the gate I saw them beside mine, going through the duty free. So we hung out. I said bye again, and we were off. They went to Athens, and I was off to Barcelona.

I grabbed a cab to my hostel, but I was sure to get a flat rate. 30 euros. Not bad I thought. Certainly better than the 80 they charge in Roma. I dropped off my stuff and went on a hunt for the Mediteranean. I was having issues with my GPS because of the height of the buildings. I could only get a clear view of the sky directly above me, so it wouldn't work at all. I walked in the direction I thought was south for 45 minutes. Not to mention my GPS's compass wasn't working too well either. I finally started getting tired, and I had no idea why I hadn't seen water yet.

I was walking west. Complete opposite way I wanted to go. I was getting very sore and tired from all the walking in Berlin, and I just wanted to get back. I ordered a baguette and went back to the hostel and slept for the night.

Day 9 - The tour of Barcelona
I woke up a little late this day. A little late for breakfast, a little early for lunch. I found a place with dönar kebabs and ordered a shawarma. It was really good. Lots of meat. Great bread. I hit up the oriental grocery for three litres of water and a Fanta, then loaded my Camelbak.

I was trying to make my way down to the sea to get with a bike tour. I really wanted to get a feel for the city (and hopefully gain my bearings). I walked through Las Ramblas, which actually bothered me. So many "performance" and caricature artists, it made me sick. There was one guy who just sat in a Fred Flintsone car dressed like Barney Rubble who just had people take pics with him. WTF is that about?

There was a lot more pedestrian traffic down Las Ramblas than I expected, so I missed the tour. Instead I hopped on a bus tour. It'd be nice to sit down and have everything done for me. It started off great. I stopped at the hostel and picked up my passport and something else. When I got back on the bus there were these Swedish girls behind me. I dropped my camera and one of them gave it to me. I was very relieved yet excited at the same time.

I turned to the front for the tour, totally forgetting about what to say. This was my first time being sober in a week. I coudn't figure out what language they were speaking, so I asked them. When I turned around, the one on the left was wearing this uber short skirt and was showing me her panties. The one on the right was wearing this low low top. She was dark, but had no tan line. I could see everything.

I told them I love their language. More like I LOOOOOOVE it! I really did, I wasn't expecting to to sound so beautiful. I thought it was more of a sex language. When I said love I could have sworn I saw the one on the right's nose cringe. Oh yeah, the shawarma. It was so full of onions and that garlic sauce, I could smell myself. Her top went up and the other closed her legs. We talked a bit about bullshit. "All you Canadians care about is hockey." Yeah, pretty much.

They got off the bus at El Pueblo Espanol. It's a small village in Barcelona that is patterned after all of Spain. I didn't want to be obvious, but I figured with a stick of gum and some time to think, I could be right back in there between them. I got off at the next stop and walked back two. When I didn't find anyone selling gum I decided to go in to El Pueblo Espanol anyway.

I took the audio tour. This place is really neat. It's like a small scale village. It's like I got to see all of Spain in one day. Sorta. There's a lot to learn about the history and all that stuff. I was very happy to have gotten off the bus there, but by this point I had given up on my Swedish masseuses.

I transfered to the other tourist bus line at the main square. I found gum and some pistachios. Perfect. When I got onto the bus there was this single English traveller chick. She came upstairs with me, but went to the front when I went to the back. I was about to walk up and ask her if she was travelling alone when someone else came up and took the seat. Fair enough, I'll wait until they move, or I'll follow her off. Whichever comes first.

How about neither came first? She knew I was watching her, because she was watching me. There were other groups of gals who came on. There were the brown gals. There were the Americans who I briefly spoke to. But I stuck with my gal. I've been burned by it before, but when I've decided on one woman, I'm not going to switch to another just because it might be easier. I hung out there for over an hour. It was a very boring tour too. At one point I felt a little nauseous, but it only lasted a couple minutes.

At the final stop I decided that if she smiled back I'd follow her, otherwise it was a waste. I tried to smile, but when she turned around and I saw her without her sunglasses I didn't really want to smile as much anymore. I made a half assed attempt and got nothing in return. Eh, solo traveller chicks have a lot of shit to put up with.

I made it back to the hostel for a little siesta. When I woke up I was feeling like shit. Upset stomach. I went back to sleep for the night.

Day 10 - Back to Bedlam
I slept like shit. I felt like shit. It kept getting worse and worse. I made a trip to the store for some Pooerade and water to keep me from dehydrating. That was all I could do. I ate a pit de pollastre baguette and that was it.

In the middle of the night things took a turn for the worse, and I had the front desk call a doctor. I thought it was it. I spent so much time on the phone with people at home, with Air Canada, with the RBC Insurance people. It was that bad. I thought I was going to die. The doctor calmed me down, said something like "gastro entridis", gave me a couple pills for the pain and some instructions on what to eat and drink.

Day 11 - Still in bed
I don't know if it's air transportation in general that I don't understand, or if it's just Air Canada. The day before I was trying to arrange transportation home. I wanted to get home right away. I had a return flight on Alitalia on day 12 through Milan, and a return flight home from Berlin, through Frankfurt to Toronto. Air Canada offered a flight from Barcelona to Toronto through Frankfurt for only $550. All I wanted to do was cancel my flight home and use that as a credit toward a new flight home from Barcelona. Will they do that? No. They will only credit me toward another flight home from Berlin.

I can see where they're coming from, but does it really make sense? I'm dropping an in demand flight within Germany, and replacing it with one that they have a seat available on. Plus I'm willing to pay extra for this. What they told me they are able to do however, was cancel the first flight. Instead of going home from Berlin to Frankfurt to Toronto, I could just go from Frankfurt to Toronto. I thought it was stupid to cancel that and not get anything in return for it, so I didn't. I did remember what they said though...

I got out of bed a little. I read a book. Checked my email, but didn't feel well enough to reply. I met some American gals while checking email. There are so many women in Barcelona. I don't know why. I don't know what it is. But there are ten chick travellers for every guy. And not even just the travellers, but all the women are absolutely drop dead gorgeous. Sexy dark skin. Some of them I can't even tell if they're Spanish or Indian. I had no idea.

Even in my hostel there weren't any guys. Unfortunately the only time I ran into any of the women was in one of my mad panics to the bathroom. Stupid shawarma.

Day 12 - Back to Berlin (it gets worse)
Really. I went to the airport for 12:00, very early for my flight which I thought was at 3:40. Guess what? I read my itinerary wrong. My flight actually left at 12:00. The connecting flight was at 3:40. That was it for me. It takes a lot to take me over the edge, but I was pretty defeated. I was spinning around in a mad panic trying to find a way to Frankfurt, remembering two days before when Air Canada said I could board from there.

I ran from terminal to terminal, asking everyone if they could take me there. I ended up at Lufthansa, where they said they could do it for 200 euro. Not bad. I took it. I told her that I'm going to miss the first half of my flight, and asked if she could arrange it for me. She said that I shouldn't really be able to do that, things like that aren't allowed. I assured her that the woman on the phone said it's okay, and I'll call them directly. It must be an Air Canada thing.

I went through security and called Air Canada to inform them I'd be missing the first half of my flight. The woman on the phone told me that they have the right to refuse my boarding. I freaked out. I told her about my previous conversation, and how if I knew that I would have spent another 50 euro and just gotten a flight to Berlin! Absolutely ridiculous! I told her more than once that I was told that it would work, but there was nothing she could do. I even asked if there was any way to find out if I would be denied boarding beforehand, but she said no.

By the time I got to Frankfurt I was left with a choice. I could either risk it, stay in town and try and board in the morning, pay out the ass for another flight to Berlin, find a train station and see if I can make it to Berlin, or spend six hours driving flat out on the best highway system in the world. Guess which choice I made?

I was still very dizzy and sick. I had barely eaten since Berlin, and I was still dealing with a very short lead time for bathroom breaks. It was hardly ideal. I grabbed the cheapest car they had and got on my way. If I was smart I would have tried to get a better car. It would have been nice to drive something faster and smoother. A nice bahn burning Benz or BMW. Something where I could average over 200 for long distances. Maybe next time. For now I was back in a Skoda, this time a 75hp Fabia.

The drive was quite uneventful. Pleasant even. I couldn't find the hotel on the GPS, but I managed to find it eventually. It was a really nice hotel. It was the Holiday Inn Berlin City Centre East. It was brand new, very close to a very trendy area, and an absolute oasis from the shit I had to deal with. I got to bed and took a three hour nap before my wakeup call.

Day 13 - Going back home
The airport was close to the hotel. Everything went very smoothly. The trip to Frankfurt was nice. The transfer was very quick. The trip home was the best transatlantic flight I've ever taken. I was on the aisle, with the only empty seat on the plane beside me. The food was actually really good considering, and I managed to extend my record of never having to see the inside of an airplane bathroom for another flight.

I went through a lot of shit through the second half of my trip, but it was worth every minute. I'm definitely planning on going back to Poland next year, probably as a part of a trip to Greece. Even just being in a small town like Bolesławiec made it worth it. However I can't wait to see Warsaw and Krakow. Next time I'll be a little better prepared and have a couple more phrases, and maybe some more solid plans.

The full series of pictures are in a flickr set. I'm a sucker for punishment.