explorish.com

Aug 5, 2008

Scandinavia is no adventure. Not even the Baltix are an adventure. What sounds more like adventure is arriving at 6am, after a torturing night in the bus, to an unknown place, suburb-looking, where almost everything is closed, nobody speaks any language you might understand, the local language has nothing to do with anything that might sound familiar, you have no map, no lonely planet, no marco polo guide, nothing. Just you and your huge luggage, alone.

Warszawa Zachodnia. What it means, I have no idea. Maybe bus station. I didnt know that the international bus station is somewhere in the wild. Everything grey, reminding me of the grey parts of Bucharest, or of the Warsaw pact.

I go to a counter and ask – how do i buy a train ticket? The lady answers in Polish – you go out and buy from there. Or, at least that’s what I understood – “out” there is only a closed hot dog stand.

I go back, and speak to the youngest lady I find, betting on the Baltic principle “all youngsters speak english”.

Not this one.

After a while, I find another girl who manages to signexplain to go down to the subway and get a train for 2 stops.
So I go, look for a train. I see one that’s leaving in 1 minute. Quickly, I ask a “western”-looking biker if this goes to central station – confusion. I try in german – he seems to react better, and shows me: “2 stops”. I infer that it is “my” train, and hop on.

With no money, as the cash machine at the station was not working. No ticket either, but enough tension accumulated to face a control without fear. Luckily, there is no need for that, and we reach the second stop, Warszawa Śródimieście. Now how da hell would a foreigner dream that Śródimieście means “central”? On the other hand, I think back of home – nothing is explained in english there, either, if you go to bucharest as a foreigner, you must be feeling pretty similar. Ouch.

Upon exit, i have again no idea where I am, but I see a familiar building, what in bucharest is called the press house, done after a russian palace in moscow, one in each eastern european capital. the warsaw pact. Aha. This must be fairly central.

With a sudden resolution, i ask a young blonde lady with ipod – i thought, this one speaks english for sure – where kopernika street is. Very kind, she stops, takes earplugs out, and speaks or a minute or so, in polish, then raises her shoulders and leaves.

Aha.

I don’t even know if i should go left or right.

However, just in case I want to shorten my trip and go home directly, I know how I stand:

(RZYM, pronounced… no, i cant spell that in english, in romanian it’s RJÎM, is Rome)

People are very friendly. I ask a guy at a kiosk, and he kindly replies: “wyzydow srtrzwyzwznyzw wyowidazwzycia przjzwznjzw”. From the signs i figure “left, and then right”. Ok. At the corner, i stop the first person I meet, a gentleman, and ask, again:“Kopernika?”
“Ulitza?”
YES!! ULITZA! First word I understand! It means “little street” in romanian, “street” in polish! But then:
“Priwizdywzyie zrwawjawjowie wyzwyjania zwesizwuwiec.”
So I follow him.
The poor guy is in a hurry, he asks me something, i dont even know how to say “i dont understand a single sound you are making, not to speak of word you are saying”, so i just raise shoulders and keep walking, silently and fast. He asks a cab driver, no answer. We move on. Then he suddenly attacks like a hawk a young lady whom we met on the sidewalk, and – she speaks english! With a big smile on his face, he leaves me with her and hurries on. I appreciate his efforts.
The girl says go straaaaight and then right. She didnt say when. I didnt ask.

Luckily, I met an elderly gentleman who answered my question with “je ne sais pas”. Ha! So i quickly asked in french, and he told me when to turn right.

So I turned right, and walked… and walked… till i said – I cant stand this any more. It was getting hot, and i was dressed for the… arctic circle. so i stopped, took the jacket off, asked an old man where da hell this kopernika ulitza is, and he energetically answered – przjzwznjzwiec poieswzyuwijec przewrjezwsywiec and showed me – the street was right there, 20 meters away.

I quickly found the Helvetia hostel, the guy at the reception told me that he liked Romania, especially Brasov and Mediaş (!), but Bucharest not so much. “Too bad, it has a lot of potential, but…”
Oh well.

In the meantime, it’s already 9am. Time to discover Warsaw.