I am behind on my blog because the Wi-Fi was not working in the Budapest Hotel. I will pick up our story where I left off--the travel day from Krakow.
Little do we know what adventures are in store for us today. We are up early to pack, check email, and then to the coffee shop for breakfast rolls, coffee and tea. From our vantage point atop tall bar stools at the window, we can watch commuters on their way to work and teens on their way to school. we have noticed that young men here and in Russia look very fit, muscular, athletic builds. Not obese. A handsome group.
We bring our luggage down to the lobby to wait for our driver. He is to come at 9:30 and the train is to leave at 10:25. At 9:30, David says "We need a taxi!" As if on cue, a man dressed in a business suit comes through the door and says, "Hello, I am your taxi driver". Relieved to have him here, we carry bags to the car, and he drives us to the Warsaw West station.He speaks someEnglish, but concentrates on navigating traffic. He parks at the station and we notice it is a very old building. He says, "I will accompany you". I am relieved at this offer. David is unsure that we need help, but agrees to have the driver go inside with us. He takes us to the first floor ticket window even though we have tickets in hand. He shows the tickets to the agent and she gives him directions in Polish. She says "Platform 6". David has been trying to read the departure board--it is not electronic and has a jumble of signs--not easy to make sense of it,but he thinks it says our platform is 5. Never-the-less, we follow the driver as he leads us down a level to the platforms. This is a very old and deteriorated-looking building, but it is bustling with people. There is not an elevator, but there are two parallel metal tracks down one side of the staircase. The driver shows us how to put the luggage rollers in the tracks and then use the steps between the tracks to walk down ourselves, pulling the luggage behind us. It is a good thing to have the driver helping us because we also have hand luggage.
Downstairs, I see the platform signs along the wall, but the driver checks again with an agent at a window. I wait with the bags while David goes with him. The agent is abrupt and rude, but confirms again it is platform 6. We now have stairs to climb to get to the platform. We walk along the platform and I ask the driver how we will know when our train comes and which side of the platform to stand on. He says they will make announcements, but of course they are in Polish. We do not even know in which direction our train will be heading. We knowwe want to go south, and we can see the sun in the east, but that does not tell us which way the train will pull up. We watchas trains come and go. The trains do not have numbers, nor is there a destination sign. Truly, the only way to know is by hearing the announcement. The driver starts to take his leave--he has already done more than we expected--but then he turns and comes back and says he will wait with us. His kindness is such a blessing! It is now past departure time and our train has not come. David is wonderig if we should be on platform 5. The driver uses his blackberry to call back to our hotel to ask the clerk to check the train status on the internet. She says the new departure time is 10:48. David strikes up conversation with a woman on the platform. She is going on a business trip and to a different city. She laments that Polish trains are not on time. Apparently there has been some sort of decentralization. One company cares for the tracks, another manages local trains, another the long distance ones. They are supposed to work together, but communication is poor. To top it off, there is much rail construction going on to prepare for the European Soccer Cup coming in 2012. She says the German trains are much more dependable. Her train today is late too, but it finally comes and she wishes us well.
An older woman and her daughter come to wait for their train. A young man with dreadlocks is on the platform, and when her train arrives, he puts her luggage on for her. It is now beyond our second departure time and still we wait. God is surely looking after us to have this driver so kindly and patiently wait with us. Otherwise we would be second-guessing platforms and trains, sure that we have missed ours. We talk to him about his family and he shows us photos of his two young sons on his blackberry. David jokes that the driver should travel with us, and he pretends to phone his wife to say he is going out of town. finally he hears the announcement for our train and shows us which side of the platform to stand on. he helps us load our luggage, waves goodby, and we are on our own.
I walk down the hallway and move into a compartment where a young man is sitting. I pull luggage inside as David carries it from the entry area. He puts the hand luggage on racks above our heads, and my larger bag on one of the seats. I ask the young man if he speaks English and he says a little. He explains he is a college student in Krakow, majoring in construction. He is coming back from break and will be taking exams. We understand him to say that the station where we are to get off is closed. He suggests we get off when he does. I go to see the conductor. There are three of them sitting together in a compartment, but none speaks English. One looks at our ticket and writes down the name of a station. So we think this means ours is closed and the one he has written is where to get off. We ride for about five hours, even though the trip was only supposed to take three. There are numerous stops at small towns. We notice that Poland's infrastructure is in need of repair. Roads and bridges are old nda tired looking. There is grafitti everywhere-much different than Russia.We have the leftover cheese and fruit from dinner last night as our lunch and it is delicious. We were getting hungry!
We are going through mainly rural agricultural areas. We see corn and other grains, as well as huge round bales of hay. At last the stop comes up which the conductor wrote on our ticket.We collect our things and get them off the train, and as it pulls away, are we ever dismayed! It seems we are almost in the middle of nowhere! There is an old pedestrian bridge with stairs up our side of the tracks and down the other side. We lug our bags up and down again. there is a brick building which we assume must be a station, but it is not. I go through a door, but there are locked doors ahead of me--maybe this is an apartment building? A large dog inside begins barking. Clearly this is not a station. We have a cell phone but no idea who to call. There is a dirt road nearby and about a block away, we can see a street. so we pull our bags in that direction and can see a woman standing there with a suitcase. We think she may have gotton off the train when we did. Maybe she can call a taxi for us. God is looking out for us. Not only does this woman speak English, but she and her husband are mountain bikers and they recently visited Utah and Colorado. People in the US were very welcoming and they plan to visit California soon. Her husband works planning mountain biketouring trips to the Alps. She offers us a ride as her husband is coming to pick her up. She looks with a wary eye at our bags, saying with ours and hers, it may not all fit in the car. While waiting for her husband, she tells us that this train has had a major detour and not even the locals knew it was coming. She complained to the conductor, but it did not help. She expected to be home hours ago and her husband was worried.
We learned later that the train system has been broken up with one company managing the rails, one handling the shorter route commuter trains and one the longer trains. The system is in disarray.
Her husband comes and we fortunately can get all the bags in. He looks at the address for our hotel and says it is not far from their house. He will drop us off at the hotel! God continues to put the kindness of strangers in our path. We offer him what we would have paid a taxi and he accepts. We give them our card and invite them to look us up when they get to the US.
We are a bit put off by the exterior of the hotel. It is an old tall wooden double door on a side street.There is a small sign beside the door. We ring the bell and someone comes to let us in. She says registration is upstairs. We carry our bags up, not anticipating that it will be three flights of stairs! No elevator! but once inside, we are impressed. All has been modernized, including free wi-fi. We have two twin beds and a tiny shower. We book some tours through the hotel.
We are hungry for supper and walk a few blocks down to the main square. It is raining, but we manage to find a dry outdoor restaurant and order. David is pleased with a large beer and a pizza. I have sausage soup and a salad. After dinner, we visited the tourist info center to aks about a chopin concert and also ask about geneology resources. We walked through the shops and David picked out a lovley red scarf for me. we head back to the hotel ready for bed.
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