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Published: October 14th 2005
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At last in the train on my way to Warsaw. I have had a full day in Berlin and find myself thoroughly exhausted. I have been going round Berlin all day, doing all the touristy things but achieved what I wanted to achieve: I walked from the Alexanderplatz away from my communist past down Unter den Linden to the Branderburger Tor - what a great reconstruction - waved hello to the French and British embassies on either side (the French is of course better) and then got thrown out of the hotel Adlon, as I did not quite look suitable. I take offense that my nice Cambodian straw hat does not look suitable. I then went to shed a tear at the Soviet monument, stood in awe at the new European quarters in Berlin and then headed to the Postdammer platz, where I used to go regularily while in Berlin, as it had the only cinema showing films in their original version. It has grown at such a speed, it is now full of gadgets and the new towers are all gleaming and sparkling in their steel and glass coats. A truly architectural marvel.
The strange thing about Berlin is that
I feel completely at home in it. When I was here a few years ago for my 3 months long german course, I did not feel the city had a particular feel to it: it was big, ugly and imposing; now, the place is full of renovated buildings, of cafes, bars, fancy restaurants, happy smiley people and colour. All of it was missing. I do not yet feel as if I have gone abroad, my trip has not yet started, I understand what people say, the way they react, dress and behave, there is as of yet no culture shock, I can't wait to get on the train to Irkoutsk. That is where the great adventure begins indeed.
I have had time for a last Schweinebraten before jumping on the train to Warsaw. I am pleasantly surprised to find two quiet vietnamese girls, one with a very special phone: it is covered in diamonds, flashing budhhas and little reflective dangling bits. When it rings, we have the whole Ho-Chi-Minh pop scene in the carriage. Fun at first, but slightly enerving in the long run. The good news is that I am also sharing my carriage with two young, charming
swedish girls taking a break from exhaustive work in Sweden to tour eastern europe, Sophie and Maria. We hit it off immediately and thus forth proceeded to comprehensively annoy our compartmental neighbours. After a night of elaborate discussions and debating upon the grave matter of German versus Swedish girls and the matter of the best foods, the house has unanimously decided that Swedish girls are indeed prettier but German food is more wholesome. Thus the motion was carried.
The train itself is a bit rustic but I expect it was a kind gift from Russia with Love; the controller is certainly from that era.
With that, we arrive in Warsaw at 05:30 and take a cab to the old Royal Palace. Unsurprisingly, all the cafes are closed so we head to the market to find a boulangerie which is open. We drink our tea and ponder upon the waking city. After our coffees, we play a short game of hide and seek before I have to be a grown up again and head to the residence, my old house. As I go round the corner, I discover the true splendour of my childhood! I have spent 5 years
in this huge and majestic building, hard to believe really. The ambassador and his wife are very kind in welcoming me in and letting me share their breakfeast with them. We swap stories about Warsaw: I tell him where the best playgrounds in town are and the best places to go sledging, he tells me of the best museums and things to do.
Warsaw is smaller then I remembered but is even more beautiful. It has been carefully renovated and is full of charm. As I go round every corner, I am met by a flood of memories: the place where my father once lost me in the park and I was duly terrified, the place where he removed my extra wheels on my bike and I was equally terrified. The old swings are still there as well as the Victoria hotel, where my parents used to take me to meet the horrible doctor who would meanly stick horrible needles in me. Once, my mother promised on the way there that, should I remain calm during the jab, I would be rewarded with a super dessert, I reluctantly agreed and was overjoyed to hear that the doctor just got
this new vaccine, which had to be drunk not injected... one of the happiest days of my life.
Warsaw hits me by its sense of being a real city, inhabited by a truly Polish population; there are few tourists, luxury shops or much of a touristic infrastructure to speak of. It is a refreshing feeling not to hear english, french, german or american at every street corner and bar. The signs are in Polish, the townspeople rightly struggle with foreign languages and the city seems to have so far escaped the invasion of Mc Donalds, Pizza Huts and Starbucks.
How long can it last? With the opening of eastern europe and the increasing affordability and ease of travel, until when will toursits forget Warsaw exists? Prague has fallen victim to the Foreign visitor, it has most certainly benefited economically and structurally but it has lost what made it an essentially Czech town. It is a tourist town, of great beauty, certainly, but that is all we are given to see; its city centre has become international in its look. I see it as a show town, not representing its real country but rather the image tourists have of it.
One can spend the entire day walking around and not meet a single proper local.
I met the girls for lunch in a milk bar, sort of cafeteria, we then headed to go round the city a couple of times (quickly done), visit the royal palace and the chopin museum and then go for tea, promptly followed by drinks at the university and a few local beers on the Vistule, the local river on a boat. Charming company and enchanting evening. After tearfully leaving the girls in town with promises of ever lasting friendships and daily correspondance, I returned home, at the residence, as the ambassador and his wife kindly invited me to dinner. We ate in the old and grand dining room. Nothing has changed, the furniture is still in the same place, the same carpets, smells and room arrangments. After dinner, the ambassador kindly took me on a grand tour of the house where we discussed our experiences of it.
Time for bed, tomorrow takes me yet further in my life and my past, going to Moscow.
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