Lvov, Ukraine, 22nd October, 06:00
Up early to get tomorrow evening's budget flight from Warsaw to Belfast. I have to make it over the EU border and cross the entire length of Poland today. Fortunately I shored up on food at the supermarket yesterday. I leave some money for Marusha and a quick note in a napkin (I can guarantee that girl doesn't get the reward she deserves for all her hard work) and then walk up to Lvov station, bag on back, in the cold dawn air.
At the station, they're forming my train, and I wait patiently by while my carriage is attached, and while a crowd of locals board in a frenzy. Finally, I hop up into the Plaskarte open-wagon, the only foreigner as far as I can tell. "Where are you from?" asks one woman, in broken English. "Irlandia" I reply, and "Two tickets to Dublin" they joke! No-one speaks any more English than this! I head down to the last bench, a bit out of the crowd, and a few minutes later, 3 Polish ladies board and also go to the back of the car, one in her twenties, one in her thirties and one in her forties, all well dressed and naturally beautiful. They're shortly followed by a dutch guy I briefly met on the train up from Odessa. As the only non-nationals and English speakers in the train, we chat together as far as the border, watching in disbelief as the locals dismantle all the train fittings to hide cigarettes inside them. Then they start to sellotape them to their bodies, inside their clothes, women filling their long dresses and bras, cramming cigarettes wherever they'll fit.
At the border, soldiers board and search the train and start the dismantling process, but only find a small proportions of the number of cigarettes hidden in the car, and search the bags of a few of the locals briefly, but only ask us westerners for our passports. An hour later, the train rumbles into Poland, eventually rolling into platform 4 at Przemysl. A guard stands at the door and calls first for EU citizens, only myself, Dutch and the 3 wives answer the call. We dismount and enter the EU with only a flash of the passports. Behind us, we see the Poles begin to search the train once more, and can't help wondering how many cigarettes they'll find.
Przemysl, Poland, 22nd October 10.30
We have 90 mins until the train to Krakow, so the five of us return to the diner where I met Olivier and Rachel on the way out for breakfast. The breakfast is large and solid, chosen on the wives recommendation of course, and we join a local woman who is on 'vacation' having emigrated to the USA several years ago and is now a successful fashion designer. She appears to live on the traditional fashion industry diet of coffee and cigarettes. Myself and Dutch take a quick look at the beautiful town centre and then, with the wives, take a cabin on the Krakow-bound train. There the conversation becomes quite lively, we share food, drinks and stories. I suffer my first chess defeat of the tour to the middle of the three wives, losing in a narrow game, knee-to-knee. Krakow comes too soon and as me and Dutch leave the train we wave to the wives who hang out the window to say goodbye.
Krakow, Poland, 22nd October 15.40
I head to the ticket office with Dutch and we part ways as I discover the next Warsaw train is in just 15 mins. I quickly get a reservation and board, where I'm sharing a car with a traditional Iranian musician, a Ney player called Mohammed. We have some interesting conversation while the train rumbles along, but about 90 mins into the journey, the train suddenly brakes very hard... it seems we've hit someone! Myself and Mohammed try to find a beer but they haven't got any on board, so we continue chatting and he plays his Ney, and invites me to stay in his house with his wife for the evening, and I'm happy to accept.
About another hour and a half later another train arrives and we transfer to it, and continue a relatively uneventful journey to Warsaw.
Warsaw, Poland, 22nd October 19.30
Warsaw is bitterly cold, and myself and Mohammed hop onto a bus and head to his flat at the top of a tower block. The flat itself is like a tiny cultural palace, where east meets west. Loaded with beautiful carpets, instruments of all types, great smells and food and Anna comes and chats for a while. She's a translator, with a things for languages, she's even developed a bit of an interest in Gaeilge! We have some tasty dinner, Iranian-style and play fiddle, Ney, drums and Tar until well into the evening, drink some Metaxa and read some Irish before a comfortable night's sleep. I give Mohammed the last of my tin whistles, and he takes an instant shine to it, playing an exotic, eastern tune on it!
Take a listen! Warsaw, Poland, 23rd October, Morning
Waking at a reasonable hour, for a quick breakfast, we then grab the tram to get a quick look at Warsaw city centre. Anna's gone to work but Mohammed has the day off. Warsaw's cold, and nicely rebuilt, but the streets are empty, and it's hard to get any feeling of what the town's really like. We head back to stock up on vodka, and Mohammed shows me how to prepare a fantastic Iranian lunch! All too soon, it's time to go to the airport, but not without a torrent of gifts to remind me of my visit to Warsaw! Gratefully I accept once again and we journey to a place where I can catch the bus to the airport.
Belfast, Ireland, 23rd October, Evening
A relatively uneventful but distinctly Polish flight later, and the plane touches down in Belfast, and soon I'm in the familiar front room of 123 Northbrook Street, at the trip's end. The Polish vodka doesn't last long, serving as a warm up for a lively Tuesday night in the Limelight. It's good to be back!
