Re-evaluation of the Polish train system

From Augustow the plan was to catch a night train to Malbork, spend a few hours there and then continue by another 6.5 hour train to Szczecin. This journey has proved to be a little nightmare of its own.

The first leg of the trip was relatively comfortable and took me from Augustow to Bialystok in the company of Grzesiek and Dorota (kayaking group members). There we managed to sprint of the train and swap onto the Bialystok-Warsaw train quickly enough to secure seats. Having left Augustow at 6pm, I arrived in Warsaw and 10:30pm with my night train scheduled to leave at 11pm and arrive in Tczew at 6:20am. As it turns out that particular train originated all the way in Krakow and was beyond full. I had entertained the hope of finding a sleeping car to get my rest for the next day’s worth of sightseeing; however, there was not even any seating room. All the compartments were completely packed. The corridor was so full that there was barely enough room to stand. Eventually everyone managed to find a little bit of floor space and crouched/sat/squatted/lay down in any way possible. As those in the compartments got up to go to the washroom, everyone was tossed/kicked/stepped on/woken up over and over throughout the night. At 6:45 we finally arrived in Tczew where I quickly hopped onto my next train to Malbork (thankfully with empty seats) and arrived in Malbork at 7:40am to find the train station under renovation and absolutely nowhere to leave my baggage.

I started walking towards the center and poked my head into the first hotel I passed gladly paying the 5 zloty fee to leave my backpack in their care. I then spent the next few hours touring the amazing Malbork fortress and crusader castle and headed back to the train station to catch the 1:45pm train to Szczecin.

I had honestly expected it to be half empty and when I finally climbed on board and found even more people than on my night train, all I wanted to do was scream. The first 1.5 hours I spent standing in the hallway with my backpack crammed between my legs and little room to move in either direction with the sun beating down on us. Thankfully at that point we reached Gdansk/Spot/Gdynia where many of the passengers were getting off and I managed to snag a seat. The train immediately filled up again and is continuing on in this overfilled fashion. It is insane the amount of people traveling by train here. Even if you exclude all the school/kindergarten/scouting trips that are all commencing right now, the mass of people packing themselves into virtually every train heading to virtually every corner of Poland is simply amazing. Hopefully by 8:20pm I will arrive in Szczecin for a much needed shower, dinner, and R&R.

On a side note, I saw more wildlife from the train than I did during my trip out to the wild Bialowieza Forest: a couple of deer and does as well as a fox. Aside for that the fields of poppies and wildflowers that we passed were one of the few highlights on this train journey.

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Kayaking in Rospuda

My original itinerary had included a couple days in the Masurian Lake District spent either kayaking, hiking, biking or simply soaking in this world renowned area. However, given the general shortage on time at my disposal I had started considering joining up on an organized weekend kayaking excursion. The problem was that all the starting points around the Mazury Lakes were incredibly difficult to get to by public transportation. Given this I opted for the next best thing: the Lakes in the Suwalki and Augustow Region and their interconnecting network of rivers.

In recent years the most famous of these has become the Rospuda Valley given to a massive uproar that erupted amongst nature lovers and environmentalists when the government decided to construct a highway through this fragile region. The end result was that the highway construction was stopped and plans are in the works of restarting it several (or several dozen) kilometers past the Rospuda Valley. Given the supposed beauty of this region I opted for a three day camping/kayaking excursion down the Rospuda River.

This entailed two nights spent in a tent (which I had to rent and which sets itself up. Yes, you heard me right, all I have to do is unzip the case for the tent and the tent pops open on its own fully erect with nothing left to do but to pin it into the ground. It is quite the ingenious contraption, but a little inconvenient to carry around.) The trip also included 30 km worth of paddling down the river and lake, a visit to a forest sauna and a couple camp fires.

The catch was that aside for the sleeping bag and the rented tent, I had no other camping gear. This meant that the nights were spent on the very hard and often quite cold floor and food had to comprise of sandwiches since I had no pots or pans to cook anything else. But this in no way affected the enjoyment level of the trip.

Our group ended up being 12 people including the guide. Everyone was paired off into kayaks with the exception of me and was forced to paddle all the way on my own while most girls relaxed and tanned while their partners did most of the work. (Maybe that’s a bit of an exaggeration, but a few breaks would have been nice). The first day was approximately 14 km down this little forest river with trees quite often encroaching on the river itself offering entertaining obstacles to avoid (or to plow directly into). The second day was primarily marshlands where for about 10 km the river snaked a tiny narrow path between fields of reeds. And when I say snaked, I truly mean it, as on this stretch there were exactly 100 very sharp turns. It concluded with the last few kilometers on a much wider river and then on the lake.

We had a fantastic group of people and ended up having an absolute blast, and although two days was a bit short, I truly don’t think my arms and shoulders could have taken any more.

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Augustow & Rospuda: back in Poland

The couchsurfing might be over and done with, but the hospitality is never-ending. I said bye to Dalius and Armin and got on the train back to Poland. With the school holidays having begun, the crowds were quite impressive. I don’t think that there was a single seat free in the final train across the border and into Poland.

Once in Augustow I was met by Ania, not a couchsurfing host, but in a way similar. She is the sister of some family friends back home whose contact information I had received a few days earlier and who kindly agreed to pick me up at the train station and look after me for the few hours before my kayaking tour. Again, the hospitality offered by complete strangers on this trip has absolutely amazed me. I was immediately sat down at the dinner table, where a huge selection of food was put in front of me, I was told to eat, then given towels, and told to make myself feel like at home. Thereafter I was ushered into the car and given a tour of the town and the surrounding countryside, including an exclusive stop at a private golf course. Once the tour was done it was time to head back to the house so that I could be fed some more just before being driven off to my starting point for my kayaking excursion.

The hospitality continued after my trip with a pick up at our finishing location, access to an amazing shower (after 2 days in a tent), more food as well as food packed for my night train ride to Malbork.
In instances like that there are simply no words to express the thanks and gratitude.

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Vilinus and Lithuania: my last country and most northerly stop ever

With absolutely stunning weather, skies that never really went fully dark at night, and a gorgeous blue sky by 4am, it is difficult not to have been impressed by my short stay in Lithuania. We looked it up, because I seriously could not remember such short nights in Edmonton, and in fact Vilinus is the most northerly point I have ever traveled to (by a full degree).

From Bialystok I crossed the border by train to my last new country of this journey. It seemed I was playing yo-yo with 1 hour of time, having lost it entering into Ukraine, regained it for a few days in Poland, and now again lost it upon entrance into Lithuania. Once in Vilinus I headed for the apartment of my new couchsurfing hosts, Dalius and Armin and their two high energy cats (They should reconsider using cats in place of the Energizer Bunny. These two would be prime candidates for that role.)

With it still being fully bright outside at 8pm, we headed into the Old Town wanting to make the most of the absolutely amazing weather. We strolled through the little streets, past monuments and cathedrals, churches and basilicas (I’m not sure I have ever seen more churches and church-like structures in one city) and eventually found a nice little restaurant that still had patio seating available. The food was delicious (including the cold borsch-like soup) but the service left a lot to be desired. Apparently that is a norm in Lithuania.

Round midnight we started heading home and although the sky had darkened and the buildings were all beautifully lit up, the horizon remained pale, the darkness not quite complete.

The next morning was filled with a visit to the KGB (Genocide) Museum. As much as I have had enough of museums by this point in time, this one is highly recommended. It had very unique and well thought out displays, intermixing a variety of different media, including artifacts, documents, films, videos and sounds and was incredibly informative of the struggles that the Lithuanians faced from before the World Wars, to the time period immediately following them (where hundreds of thousands got deported, faced imprisonment and execution), all the way up through the 1990s at which point they finally declared their independence from Soviet rule which was not recognized until a year later. One of the most depressing parts of the museum, aside for the statistics about all the lives lost and affected, were the KGB prisons in the basement, including the tiny cells, horrible living conditions and the execution chamber.

After the museum I was met by Armin and we meandered throughout the old town, taking in the various sights and eventually heading towards Uzupis, the Montmarte equivalent in Vilinus. This bohemian and artistic district has declared itself to be an independent republic, created its own flag, elected its own government, and formed its own constitution which includes provisions such as:

• Everyone has the right to die, but this is not an obligation.



• Everyone has the right to be undistinguished and unknown.



• Everyone has the right to look after the dog until one of them dies.



• A dog has the right to be a dog.



• Everyone has the right to cry.



• Everyone has the right to be misunderstood.



• Everyone has the right to be individual.
  

On April 1st, the bridge into Uzupis is closed down, border guards are placed at its entrance, passports are stamped and customs has to be crossed. On our visit there, no such restrictions were placed upon us, but it was nevertheless a pleasant walk through an unrecognized republic. (Am I to consider it another visited country, maybe half of one?)

On a hill above Uzupis we sat on a gorgeous little patio overlooking the entire city sipping the restaurant’s own brewed beer and nibbling on Lithuanian garlic encrusted/fried bread sticks. From there it was a hike down then up to the Hill of Three Crosses and eventually back into the Old Town where we swung by Eastern Europe’s oldest university before heading back home where Dalius prepared a fantastic dinner of potato pancakes followed by some delicious wine.

The following day it was time for a road trip to Trakai, a tiny little town about 30km south of Vilinus boasting a beautiful lake and a picturesque castle on an island. There we were befriended by two elderly Austrian ladies who noticed Armin’s Austria t-shirt and immediately asked whether he was originally from there. We chatted with them for a while, parted ways only to bump into them again and by joined by them over a delicious traditional Lithuanian lunch. I think we spent a good couple hours chatting with them. (They had driven up together from Vienna and were heading up towards Estonia and Latvia along with their 12 year old golden retriever).

And that was Lithuania in a nut-shell. The entire visit was made so much more memorable due to the amazing hospitality of my couchsurfing hosts.

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Puszcza Bialowieska: Poland’s highly acclaimed wild forest

The Bialowieza National Park is Poland’s oldest national park. It is recognized by Unesco as both a Biosphere Reserve and a World Heritage site and boasts over 100 species of birds, along with elk, wild boars, wolves and the European bison (zubr). Given these descriptions I had high expectations and purposefully adjusted my itinerary to see this amazing forest and the bison (not a small feat given that it was at least 4-5 hours out of my way).

Well, the only way to visit the Strict Nature Reserve (the area of the forest where nothing can be touched or done, where the trees and nature are left to do their own bidding), is via a 3 hour guided tour. After my 2.5 hour bus ride to Bialowieza I was lucky enough to be able to join a group of 10 others on this tour (thereby keeping my costs down to a mere 11 zloty). Well, the tour first took us through the Palace Park, where I was shown Canadian Pines, American Ash, and Weymouth Firs (I might be mixing up the tree species, since botany is not my strong point). However, these exotic trees were a highlight as they are not known in Europe. We then proceeded into the Strict Nature Reserve which is a mixture of coniferous and pine forest that has been allowed to grow in its natural fashion for the last couple hundred of years. Again various plants and trees were pointed out, including a 300 year old pine (swierk???) that was a couple meters in circumference. We were shown one that had fallen over 12 years ago and whose roots still created a round disk in the air, and a dab that had toppled in 1975 and was slowly rotting away. Oh, and I must not forget the one dead mole and one dead frog that I saw.

Now, I know that this is cynical, but compare such a tour with a hike around Buntzen Lake, where some of the trees would take at least 5 people holding hands to reach around, where the stumps of old trees form the home for new trees, where the forest has ran its own course for countless centuries. Well, Butzen Lake is about a 10 minute drive from my home. Drive a further few hours and you will find yourself in the midst of the West Coast Rainforest which would put Bialowieza to shame. Consider the oldest and widest tree we saw on the West Coast Trail which would take 10-15 people with hands outstretched to surround it. Consider the ancient Sequoias in California, one through which a car can drive through and the other which was used as a bridge for cars to drive over. Bialowieza still has another 1,000 years to go before its wilderness could even begin to compete with our back yard.

But I’m forgetting the European bison for which this Reserve is so famous. There are apparently 451 running wild in the reserve, havi

ng been painstakingly reintroduced into the reserve. Between 1919 and 1929 there was no bison left alive. In 1929 the reintroduction started with the purchase of 5, from which their numbers have slowly multiplied. Well, we didn’t see any on our tour (not surprising). I was, however, told to go to the European Bison Reserve where I could see them in a zoo like setting. I did go and I did see them. 8 or 10 were hiding in the grass some 50 meters from the fence.

Now again, I might be a little unfair in comparing, but consider Yellowstone National Park. There along the river we saw a herd of bison grazing, cooling off in the water and in the sand. The following morning when we woke up and stuck our heads out of our tent we realized that our campground was surrounded by a heard of grazing bison. One was maybe 5 meters away from our tent. Later on by Salt Lake City we nearly drove into one in our attempt to find our camping spot at night. We have photos (one of them attached here) posing in a bison like stance with the beast several meters behind us.

With all that said, I must admit that I was impressed by one thing: the amount of mosquitoes there. I don’t think I have ever been devoured to that extent, even through the long pants I was wearing and the sweatshirt that I put on despite the heat.

Overall, my advice is as follows: if you have done any kind of hiking in western Canada, you can easily skip a visit to Bialowieza; if in addition, you had seen bison somewhere in the wild, whether in Alberta or the US, then you can definitely skip Bialowieza. The only proviso I would put on this is in winter time. I think that a sleigh ride through this forest would be quite magical. Also, if you do spend a night there, try to organize a tour very early in the morning, even before dawn. Head out either on a sleigh or on a walking tour (if in summer) some time around 4am, see the forest wake up, see the mist slowly lift, and that is also your best chance to see the bison grazing in the wild. If not, then go for a hike around Buntzen Lake, on Vancouver Island, or anywhere else along the west coast and truly appreciate the beauty that surrounds us on a daily basis.

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Rzeszow: A city full of surprises

Rzeszow was not pretty or important enough to find its way into my guidebook, nor was Lancut, and yet I am incredibly glad I made a stop there.

I was hosted by Robert and was immediately made to feel right at home. He took time off from writing his master thesis to show me around Rzeszow and the surrounding towns. But mostly, he made me regret the fact that I travel with such a big pack. He’s a hitch-hiking fanatic. Well, maybe not that extreme, but he has taken part in hitch-hiking championships between Sopot and Munich and has an endless array of amazing stories and experiences. During my two days in Rzeszow we managed to hitch three rides, one in absolute record time, where I barely had enough time to step on the sidewalk, stick out my thumb, and had a vehicle screeching to a halt. But on my longer journeys, as much as I would love to travel in this fashion, the large bags are simply not conducive to it. It is not so much the fact that people won’t stop for me because of a big bag. However, there are times when you might go hours without being able to get a ride and sometimes find yourself needing to walk a kilometer or two, or eight or nine. With a little backpack that wouldn’t be an issue. Maybe next time round. A young couple, Kinga and Chopin, managed to travel around the world by hitch-hiking, so why not (they have a book out describing their journey).

My first day in Rzeszow was spent meandering through the Old Town. It is not very large, but nevertheless very charming. It’s got a beautiful city hall on one end and is surrounded by gorgeously restored old facades and an endless array of cafés and restaurants that spill right out into the square. Truth be said, there is not much more to Rzeszow. They do have a tour of the underground tunnels, but I must admit I did not go on it. The river running through the city provides kilometers worth of strolling options and it seems that we did quite a bit of walking. In the evening we came back to the city center to watch Justyna Steczkowska (a well known Polish singer) perform for free in the town square.

The following day we headed out to Lancut to see the beautifully maintained and decorated castle as well as their wagon hall (Powozownie). Not quite sure what you would call it in English, but it’s a beautiful garage in which they exhibit all the old wagons used by the castle inhabitants as well as those collected by the museum since then. They have everything from hunting wagons, luggage carts, sleds, limousines to speed wagons. Quite the impressive collection.

From Lancut it was back to Rzeszow and from there off to Kolbuszowa where we wanted to visit the Skansen museum (akin to the Zaanse Schans near Amsterdam). It was a very quaint and peaceful setting. There was virtually no one there and we could wander around the fields and old historic houses as we pleased. It was from there that we managed to catch a ride in record breaking speed. I seriously thought that the little car’s breaks would start to smoke given how quickly and forcefully the elderly gentlemen stepped on them.

When back in Rzeszow we headed towards the center to grab a bite to eat, passing the empty stage in the city square that was playing Sting and joked about how funny it would be if he were to perform there that night. Well, after dinner it turned out it wasn’t Sting, but yet another big name in Polish music. This time round it was Grzegorz Turnau who sat at the piano, accompanied by a small orchestra and his band members. It was an absolutely amazing concert in a beautiful setting that was made even nicer by the fact that the menacing rain clouds of the morning had all but blown away and the night sky was strewn with stars.

I truly could not have wished for a better two days in Rzeszow.

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Train travel in Poland: And they say North America is the land of milk and honey

So if I was impressed by the buses in Turkey and the night trains into and out of the Ukraine, I am now in awe of the new Regional Train service in Poland. Newly implemented and with the lowest prices, the RegioExpress is a brand new set of fully airconditioned trains which includes the following: TV screens that tell you what stops are upcoming, when you will be arriving there, and how fast you are traveling; little electric displays above every seat that welcome you aboard; electrical plugs for your laptop under every seat; free wireless internet connection (so long as the network isn’t overloaded); washrooms where everything is sensor-controlled, fully wheelchair accessible and spotlessly clean; and racks for bikes that store all bikes in a vertical position before entering the compartments. And did I mention that these trains travel on average 120 km/h, have priority on all the tracks and cover the distance between major cities probably quicker than you could by car? And I know for a fact that I mentioned that these are now virtually the cheapest train tickets you could buy (my trip from Rzeszow to Warszawa would have cost about 40 zloty or $13).

Now, in contrast, in the land of milk and honey, the continent that is continuously imitated and held in awe by Europe, what do we have? One single company of Greyhound buses that offer miserable, uncomfortable, slow and expensive services across the country? One passenger train line across the nation which so expensive, that unless you are a train nut or want to sight see via the rail, you would never choose that option of transportation? Or Air Transat where you pay hundreds of dollars to be cramped into little seats, told to pay for your blanket, headset and any food that you wish to buy? North America still has a lot to learn.

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Lwow: Almost home but not quite

There is something Polish about Lwow that goes beyond the mere similarity in language (aside for the alphabet). I can’t put a finger on it, but once I arrived, I felt that I was close, albeit not exactly at home. It may have been the look of the Old Town, or the food (lots of pancakes, cabbage, perogies and borsch). Maybe it was simply the fact that Lwow used to be a Polish city.

However, whatever similarities I felt, there was also a simultaneous sense of difference most apparent in the evident poverty that still encompassed the city. Walking the 3 km from the train station to the hostel I would have been hard pressed to find a meter of smooth street or sidewalk. The roads were warped, the cobblestone laid almost in waves. The trams clattered down these streets noisily as did the endless array of little buses, some oddly narrow. Taxi drivers stood at the front entrance to the train station trying to snag some customers for the $2 ride into the center. Old ladies were hurrying to and fro with various goods and bags, getting ready to set up somewhere at a market or on the side of the street. The buildings along the way were in need of a facelift or at least a decent scrub. Simply put, you could see that the changes that had been taking place in Western Europe and in those Eastern European countries which had already joined the EU had not yet commenced in the Ukraine. I do not want to imply that this was an impoverished city, but it was most definitely one in need of an influx in investment and infrastructure.

That being said, it was also a city that has not been on any kind of main tourist circuit and as such the tourists were few and far between. The hostel I stayed at had several dorm rooms and private apartments in which it could probably accommodate about 50 people. The night before it had one guest. When I stayed there might at most have been 15 people staying there. When asked if business would pick up later on in the season, I was told that it depended on whether there would be any large groups coming by, otherwise they generally expect a few individual tourists throughout the summer.

Due to the general lack of tourists, it is not a city geared towards sightseeing or your usual touristic activities. Rather, it is much better to simply soak in the city, the atmosphere, and the people. The Old Town and its central square is a beautiful UNESCO World Heritage site. It is beautifully restored with the city hall in the center and gorgeous old facades all around. Plenty of benches along all its little streets allow you to do as the locals do: sit down, soak in the sun and sights, and watch the world go by.

During my time there I roamed the city center, the smaller streets leading away from it as well as the few parks surrounding it. I also made the excursion out to the Lychakiv Cemetery which is home to the Cmentarz Orlat, or the Cemetery of the Little Eagles. The whole grounds of this Cemetery are quite beautiful as they are located in an old growth forest, with the graves hidden amongst the big trees and hills, some of the older ones slowly being reclaimed by nature. However, the most touching part of it for me was the Cmentarz Orlat, a small section of the cemetery where the Polish soldiers who fought for Lwow’s freedom in 1918 are buried. The grounds are immaculately well maintained with the gravestones glistening white and a short wander amongst these stones is enough to bring tears to anyone’s eyes. Of the 3000 or so Polish soldiers who lost their lives, the vast majority were under 19 years of age. There was a grave of a boy a mere 6 years old, many of 10 and 12 year olds including one who was awarded the Victoria Cross. With most of the Polish army fighting elsewhere, there was no one else left to defend Lwow and this battle therefore fell into the hands of children and retired soldiers. All those who fought and died are buried in this part of the cemetery.

Not to leave Lwow on such a depressing note, I will also mention that Lwow, and from what I heard the rest of the Ukraine, are insanely cheap. Had it not been for the expensive train ride that I had to book back to Poland, I would have spent under $20 per day in Lwow. Food, at the Puchata Hata, a cafeteria style establishment where you could load up on borsch, cutlets, cabbage, perogies, pancakes, fish, chicken and whatever else you wished, was some of the cheapest I had come across. My dinner on the first night which comprised of borsch, a salad, cabbage, chicken, mashed potatoes, pancakes and a drink totaled a mere $7 and that was already splurging.

I left Lwow after two days on a very early morning sleeper train and once again was amazed at the
clean bed sheets and covers and the service provided. On top of it the Polish managed to change the entire train suspension in about 45 minutes (as opposed to the 4 hours it took when entering the Ukraine). And yes, I managed to confirm that they do indeed lift up the train cars, detach the suspension, roll it out, roll in the new suspension and lower the train cars onto it. Quite a fascinating process.

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Ykpaiha

No. I have not become dyslexic. It was back again to the Cyrillic alphabet for a couple of days, so the y’s are u’s, the p’s are r’s and the h’s are n’s, and that’s the easy part. Truth be said it wasn’t too bad and nothing in comparison to the fantastic train journey from Eger.

First, however, I should start with the purchase of my train tickets. I had the exact times and connections on my iPhone, having looked them up on the internet ahead of time. So all I needed was to go to the train station, ask for the connection from Eger to Lwow via Fuzesabony and from there to Nyiregyhaza from where I could finally catch my train to Lwow. This turned out to be easier said than done. The lady and gentleman at the ticket desk spoke no English, and well, Hungarian, as I’ve already mentioned, is not very familiar. After about 15 minutes of flipping through various manuals, some several inches thick, and with the assistance of a lady who spoke some Russian they informed me that they were unable to sell me my ticket as it had to be purchased in Budapest.

Dismayed I considered my options as they continued flipping through various charts and manuals and talking to someone over the phone. Finally they got back to me saying that yes, indeed, they could issue me the ticket. The whole process took another 45 minutes or so, largely because everything had to be done by hand, ever code looked up in some other form of manual, every price checked in another binder and every seat verified by yet another phone call. Overall, nearly $60 and over an hour later I had my ticket to Lwow which would take me via the aforementioned route on a 15 hour journey.

The most interesting part of it was in Nyiregyhaza where the train from Budapest and heading to Moscow was scheduled to stop for exactly a minute. My car was supposed to be 434. Thankfully the train didn’t have that many cars, but it was much longer than average and I could tell that none of the cars that stopped in front of me were the right ones. Thankfully a conductor stepped out of the train at precisely that moment and I was able to ask him where to go. As we proceeded along the platform in search of the appropriate car, the train began to whistle, not caring whether there were more people wanting to get on. The conductor quickly backtracked to the first car with an open door, told me to get in and to follow him along the inside, through locked doors which he had to unbolt, others which he had to pound on to get the other conductors to open, and eventually 10 or so cars later told me I was finally in the right place. The train had seriously stopped for just one minute. Had it not been for the conductor, I would likely still be sitting in Nyiregyhaza.

The other interesting part of the journey was the border crossing. The Hungarian side went quickly enough. The Ukrainian seemed to go likewise, but the border control lady managed to disappear with my passport. Afraid of the train leaving before my passport was returned, I desperately tried to stay away. Then the train began to move, but the conductor told me not to worry. Then the train stopped. Then the banging started; then the drilling; then the shoving; then more banging. This went on for probably 3 hours. When I finally poked my head out the window I could see these vise-like devices along either side of the tracks and a seemingly endless stack of spare train suspensions stacked on the tracks next to us. Turns out that the rail gauge in Hungary (and Western Europe) is different from the one in the Ukraine and Russia. As such when you cross the border they have to conduct the adjustments. Whether this entails swapping out the entire suspension or simply readjusting the wheels, I have no idea. All I know is that it was very time consuming and that since I still didn’t have my passport back, I could not go to sleep.

Eventually around 4am, we began to move again, went back into the station, and my passport was handed back to me with a nice red Ykpaiha stamp in it. About six hours later, we arrived in Lwow exactly on schedule.

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Fashion Crimes

During this trip I’m sure that I committed my share of fashion crimes and I most definitely saw my share of them: the half a dozen mullets I saw in Lwow; the orange hairdos and the 80’s style hairdos (take my word for it, they were truly taken straight from the 80s); the shimmering golden jumpsuits; the pink leopard tights; and the list goes on. But truly, a government imposed fashion crime is a first. The hats that the Ukrainian police and army have to wear could not be any more ridiculous. Why would you make them so large? Would purpose aside for shielding you a bit from the rain could such a wide rim serve? Wouldn’t they catch the wind easier and fly off? More space for the birds to poop on. Tell me why?

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Eger: The highly acclaimed Hungarian town that fell short

When in Budapest, our hostel attendants could not stop raving about how beautiful Eger was; that it has an amazing old town as well as a castle that manage to hold off the Turks that is still standing, etc.

In reality, it is a relatively small town, with a pretty but relatively unimpressive old town, Europe’s northernmost, but slightly unimpressive minaret, and the remains of an old unimpressive castle. So, just in case anyone still has not caught on, I found Eger to be just a bit unimpressive.

Maybe I’m simply getting jaded by all the old towns and old squares. They all begin to look the same and you begin to compare them to one another, not just within an individual country, but also between the countries. And some places are simply hard to compete with, whether it would be Ljubljana, Split or even Sarajevo.

Maybe the weather had something to do with it as well. It was a bit rainy, quit windy and slightly chilly. This all resulted in a town that was virtually deserted. The cafes were empty, there were few people on the streets and there simply was a lack of any kind of atmosphere.

But there was the most quintessential element: a drive through McDonald’s window in a pedestrian only zone. As per Rob, these are designed for the Segue’s (those two wheel little scooters). According to me, that is the epitome of healthy living: not only are you too lazy to walk, but you are also too lazy to actually go into the McDonald’s.

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Budapest

Just to wrap up Pecs I should also mention the insane storm that rolled through the city in the early morning hours. The rain was so hard that it woke me up even with earplugs in. This was still before the thunder and lightning began. Once that started, there simply was no way to sleep. You could see the flashes with your eyes closed and the strikes must have been incredibly close to earth since I did not even have time to think “one” between the lightning and the thunder. If every second is 1 km, then these strikes were probably a couple hundred meters away. The entire apartment shook.

From Pecs we were lucky enough to get a ride to Budapest with one of Tamas’ friends (also Tomasz). Once there, there was no time to be wasted. We found a really nice hostel (Home Made Hostel), with the quaintest dorm rooms ever and a fantastic atmosphere and immediately began our exploring. Having read about the beautiful opera house we made that our first stop and were lucky enough to get box seats for that night’s performance of Mozart’s Don Giovanni.

Since the forecast had been for rain and yet we had gorgeous blue skies, we decided to make the most of it and headed for the Danube. The views from the Chain Bridge up to Buda, the Fisherman’s Bastion and the Palace were amazing as was the view of the Hungarian Parliament Building (which was built to resemble the Parliament in London). We could not stop oogling at all the gorgeous buildings. I think that it would be difficult to find one ugly building in the heart of Budapest. Everything is built with such amazing detail. Whether it is a hotel, an official building, a school or simply an apartment building, the finish is amazing. There are carvings on the walls, columns and cornices by the windows and doors, and architectural details whose names I do not know: all resulting in some of the most stunning end of the 19th century architecture I had seen.

St. Stephen’s Basilica, one of the largest cathedrals in Europe, was breathtaking as was the view from its giant copula. So were all the various statues and monuments strewed around the city. You could simply wonder aimlessly and never stop admiring the sights. I guess the one exception to this was the Hilton Hotel which we discovered on our second day. Built next to Matthias Church and the Fisherman’s Bastion it was supposed to incorporate the old Dominican ruins and to blend in stylistically with the surrounding buildings. Well, unlike the Four Seasons Hotel which is built in classic Hungarian style, the Hilton is a butt ugly building made of peach colored glass, attempting to look modern but failing miserably. For those who are familiar with our old law building at UBC (the bunker) try picturing this: instead of the cement, replace the walls with peach colored reflective glass and make it 10 floors high. It looked like a glass bunker and it in no way matched or blended in with the surrounding, unless you were to refer to the reflection of the church that you could see in the glass windows. Truly a horrid sight and if I could, I would boycott the Hilton chain for having constructed such an atrocity. On second thought, the boycotting should be quite easy since I can’t afford to stay there anyways.

The opera in the evening was beautiful, both the building and the performance. Julita and I had seats across one another on the 3rd floor in little balcony booths. The only downside to the whole experience was that speaking no Italian, and especially no opera Italian, we had no idea what the story was about. The translations being displayed above the stage were of absolutely no assistance since they were all in Hungarian. As such, all we could do was enjoy the beautiful singing and music and then read about the plot once we got back to the hostel. I guess the other downside of it was our attire. It was nice to go to a high class event, but when backpacking, I tend not to pack evening dresses. Wearing dark jeans and a nice shirt I felt woefully underdressed amongst all the suited gentlemen and finely dressed ladies. Julita, oddly enough, did not fare much better. Suffering from a badly sprained ankle she was forced to wear her hiking boots which are not very conducive to skirts or nice outfits.

Our second day in Budapest started with an informative walking tour where we found out that:

1. Average government wages in Hungary are 500 Euro per month. This would also be the wage for a government doctor.
2. Income tax is 50%.
3. Tax evasion has become Hungary’s national sport.
4. Due to the low wages, most “smart” Hungarian’s tend to move overseas. As a result a standard joke asks how a smart Hungarian talks to a stupid Hungarian. The answer being via a long distance phone call. 18 Nobel Prizes have been awarded to people of Hungarian background; however, most received the Prize while abroad.
5. Hungarian’s love to party. A beautiful historic building which used to be the National Theater was turned into a club/rave locale because the acoustics were simply not good enough for classical concerts.
6. The Hungarian Parliament was build to resemble the British one, but purposefully made 1 meter longer.
7. The Parliament building and St. Stephen’s Basilica are both 96 meters high and no building Budapest can be higher so as not to ruin the skyline.

Following the tour we wandered aimlessly through the city, but tried to take it easy so as to spare Julita’s foot. In the end, we wrapped up the day with a visit to one of Budapest’s famed baths where we soaked in the saunas and hot pools relaxing for a few hours before calling it a night.

On the 3rd day I set Julita off in a taxi for the airport and myself headed to Szentendre, a little town some 16 km north-east of Budapest. This was highly recommended to me by the hostel staff as a picturesque little village. Well, it turned out to be quite little, not overly picturesque, but very touristy and the hour journey in each direction was hard to justify when after ½ hour I had had enough.

On my way back, with plenty of time still before my train to Eger, I decided to visit Momento Park. Sometimes referred to as Monument Park or Statue Park, it is a dumping ground on the outskirts of Budapest for all the various communist statues that were deemed unsuitable for the city. Everything from busts of Lenin, to workers marching in arms, the park definitely makes an interesting sight. Back in the city center I swung by the Central Market (which had been closed when Julita and I went there), savored the beautiful smells of all the fresh produce and cold cuts and as usual found myself unable to resist the freshly baked pastries. Then it was time to head back to the hostel, pack up and hope on the tram to the train station.

One neat sight which I completely didn’t expect at the train station is all the old gentlemen playing chess as they wait for their train. There are a number of them set up with their boards along the wide railings, simply waiting for playing partners. Someone who shows up at the train station and has time to kill can simply go up to them and enjoy a friendly, but at times slightly boisterous, game of chess.

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