WARSAWESOME BEGINNINGS

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Interesting Poland Fact #1: A traditionally Polish food is Kielbasa sausage. I love ya, baby, but it's all I can think about...

Leaving

We awoke at RIDICULOUS o'clock on the 29th August ("ridiculous o'clock" being a technical traveling term, defined in the Oxford Made-Up Dictionary as being "any time waking is done when sleeping is what should be being done"), after literally days of anticipation. It took a fair few hours to shake out the cobwebs caused by the massive surprise goodbye party thrown by our many dear friends whom we value very, very much. It took a lot less time to remember that no one had even bothered to come into town to say goodbye to us, and that we actually hate you all. Except you, Matty P and Jess. Not that we're bitter. Cus we're not. At all. Keep reading anyway, wankers.

Needless to say. (I did type something else there, but then realised that it was needless).

We were driven to Gatwick by Mama Gamester merely 5 hours after we had started packing, and a good 4 hours after we had realised that we weren't actually flying from Heathrow. Things were looking good on the preparation front. After a decidedly average breakfast at the airport (cooked by world-renowned chefs who somehow found toast beyond their culinary expertise), we jetted off to Warsaw with a smile on our faces and a song in our hearts (well, only really with a song in Matt's heart, and even then it was less a song, more a pounding rhythm provided by his pacemaker, which was set to "jazz").

The First Day

A downer was put on things moDay 2ments after touching down as I was made to pay a fine for sneaking a pet into a foreign country. I tried to explain that I was innocent, and that Matt can't help his 'facial disorder', but they were having none of it.

It was about now that it dawned on us that we were had nowhere to stay, no idea where to go, and absolutely no Polish (and also no flower-arranging experience, but this was the least of our troubles). With some help from a woman - who we charmed with some expertly arranged flowers we stole off another traveler - at the airport, we had our first experience on a uniquely Polish transportation device known as a "bus". Before long we panicked, and ended up getting off several miles from anywhere useful. This was cool though, because there's nothing like trudging around carrying massive backpacks on your backs to make you appreciate you wondrous joys of life, or decide to punch a child in the face, depending on what mood you're in.

After apologising to the child, we eventually wound up at the Oki Doki hostel. "Shall we go in?" I asked. "Oki Doki!", Matt punned. We laughed for several minutes. Oh how we laughed! We just stood outside the hostel and laughed and laughed and laughed until Matt said...

"I don't get it"

The hostel turned to be AMAZING! Cheap as chips (chips made out of money) and friendly to boot, there was a bar, lampshades made out of cheese graters (that is actually true :-D), and even people! After a quick dinner, we went to the bar in time for happy hour, which sold two pints for two pounds. We sat and we were happy.

Around aboot this time, we were sold some strange, orangey, gunky, hot liquid by a giant rabbit. I could explain further, but it will be more interesting not to, but we do have some of the stuff as a souvenir for when we get back to England.

It was at this point that we started chatting to someone who, it turned out, goes to the same university as me. This was great, since I had started the summer with the explicit intention of traveling a thousand miles in order to talk to people who live just down the road from me for 80%!o(MISSING)f the year. This guy was fairly set on continually reliving his 52 second experience in the Belgian red-light district with us. Don't get me wrong, it was a good story: filled with an anecdote and even a play on words! For some reason though, by the 8th time round, it just wasn't the same. Quick as a flash, we waited til he'd gone to the toilet, drank his drink, and ran off into the sunset. The sunset, it turned out, was actually a man called Dave. Luckily, he was very civil about the whole thing, and we carried on on our way.

Our way led us to perhaps the coolest place this side of Samuel L. Jackson's latest pair of shades. We found ourselves in a Polish shisha bar, filled with laid back people, hippy wall hangings, and cheap beer. Summing up all of my charm, wit, and charisma, I instantly knocked over a small group of Polish people's drinks. After undoing the damage with a little help from whoever-the-bearded-guy-on-Polish-bank-notes-is (totaling at least 1 pound 50), Matt and I grabbed some beers, ordered some shisha, and got chatting to some awesome Polish guys - specifically a karate enthusiast and a guy going cold turkey from World Of Warcraft. Here we stayed til 2 in the morning, when we returned back to the hostel, and crashed out in a dorm full hairy Polish men, and one Brasilian guy who offered to put us up if we ever fancied going to South America. I know what you're thinking, and no, Matt did not get sodomised by a large, sweaty Pole (no pun intended). He's a giver, not a receiver.

Time for Wax!

We awoke, refreshed and glad that we'd get to stay another night in the hostel, who's friendly atmosphere, tendency to play Jimi Hendrix and AC/DC, and, naturally, happy hour, had convinced us that it was the best hostel we've ever stayed in. 7 minutes and 41 seconds later, we were kicked out.

We'd only been able to afford the one night when we arrived, and they'd fully booked whilst we'd been asleep. So, we were out on the streets of Warsaw again, aimless, bebagged, and with a slight itch in our left elbows (when Matt and I spend more than 20 hours straight with each other, we form a sort of mini-collective consciousness, where we share some thoughts. However, these tend to only be unimportant and mildly irritating thoughts, such as itches, unsolved crossword clues, and mental images of Jess).

Before long we found a fairly nice, cheap hostel, containing free internet, Polish TV, and only one creepy guy in our bedroom! We dumped our stuff down, and then spent the day impersonating statues, having conversations with wooden Amy Winehouses, getting ripped off by Polish barbecuers, watching bears (that's right, motherfucking BEARS), hopping these "bus" things, running from the rain (in a manly, pragmatic style, rather than girly, squeamish style. Definitely manly. Definitely, definitely manly), checking out awesome buildings, and chillaxing in many a cool spot.

Tomorrow we travel to Krakow. The Great Extravaganza, as of yet, remains elusive.

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Comments

[allie]

is it easter in warsaw due to some time difference, do their bunnies deliver juice as a vegan friendly egg substitute?

[McEduardicous Of The Den]

bastards
Ahem. Much glee was had upon the readings of your exploits. Here (Rainsdale, England, HP13 5nevercomehere) Debbie and I found reading about your adventures-to-date to be a wonderously fun experience...where "a wonderously fun experience" can of course be taken to mean, "an agonising tug on my internal 'jealousy-balls' resulting in the controlled crushing of fruits within my vice-like grip to hold back from actually pile-driving the computer monitor" (remember pile-drivers? sigh). So yeah. Stop having fun or I will be forced to abuse the supra-bond and take over Matt's body. And, if it should turn out that the distance means that I have limited time as Matt, I shall force him to dump-tackle you both through the ground and into Nether-Krakow...where only the legless and forlorn can exist in harmony. So Matt will be fine, but YOU Gamester...you will suffer like a worm who has crawled inside an ipod stuck on repeat 'A Whole New World' only to discover that mp3 actually stands for "Mini-People Thrice" and is forced to spend the rest of its miserable life being seranaded by six tiny versions of Jordon and Peter Andre. Fear me.