Photos1

Berlin Poland Adventures Continued

What had seemed like a safe 2 hour time allowance for getting to the airport rapidly dwindled into an impossibly insufficient amount of time and yes people, once more I missed a flight, the second flight I have now missed to Berlin. I�ve sworn to James that from now on whenever my destination is Berlin I will only attempt to get there by train. I�m much better at catching trains on time (except for that one time in Belgium but there was good reason for that).

So we spent an exciting day in Luton. For those of you unfamiliar with Luton it is your stock standard boring satellite city just outside of London for which the only reason people ever visit the town is when they, like us, miss their flight out of the nearby airport. Luckily rescheduling our tickets didn�t leave us too out of pocket but it did mean a day of killing time in wonderful exciting Luton. A trip to the tourist office informed us that the key highlights of Luton included a hat museum and, of course, a church. My ears perked up at the mention of a bingo hall and in search of a gambling fix we made tracks for the granny hall, being some of the first customers to arrive after the doors opened at 11am. Unfortunately for us the club operated a strict �must register 24 hours in advance� policy and we were left to rest our bums on the seats and ponder what could have been only to be rapidly moved along by a granny who insisted we were sitting in her friend�s lucky seat. This was much to our bemusement as there was a good 300 empty seats surrounding us.

The many faces of James Marin

5pm and we had finally touched down in East Berlin�s communist era airport terminal. Stepping out of the terminal it was damn good to be back in good old Deutschland, it feels like a second home and at the first opportunity I went in search of currywurst and a chance to speak the local tongue (I�m not saying I do it well but enough to make myself understood).

We spent the first night in Berlin catching up with a German mate of mine, Ken, and some of his friends, along with one AIESEC girl, which was great fun. We had a few warm up vodkas at Ken�s apartment before heading to a lounge type place that had a lot of atmosphere. Actually everywhere I�ve ever gone out in Berlin has a lot of atmosphere. After that we went to more of a club, with a big dance floor next to the street level window. Here we met some Spanish girls who joined us at a 3rd club that was straight out of the history books of Communist East Berlin, the interior hadn�t changed a bit from before the wall fell and neither had the music. At some stage we managed to find our way back to Ken�s apartment where we crashed on the floor before arising the next morning to some king size hangovers. I went in search of coffee and leberkase which proved to be more of a challenge than I had anticipated, and before long James and I had made it to the Ostbahnhof in anticipation of out impending Berlin-Warsaw express train. Before boarding though we managed to get a few snaps in front of the Berlin wall.

Da East Siyed, Aye.

Onboard the train and we had a little compartment for 8 people which are great because it gives you an excuse to chat and bug complete strangers. Luckily we had a very cool Russian/German guy called Michael in our compartment who was more than happy to inform us of the virtues of Poland�s various vodka labels. Michael was on a trip from Berlin to St Petersburg via train that would take him 2 days and 2 nights. We chatted about politics, Russian mafia, and Polish woman and then headed to the restaurant carriage to sample some of the local drops. James was still a little shaky from the night before and stuck to Pepsi but Michael and I were soon saying �Na zdrowie� (Polish for cheers) and chugging back shots of that beautiful clear stuff while ancient communist factories melted into dust heaps on the horizon out the carriage windows.

Talking Russian Mafiaso over a Vodka

Arriving in Warsaw, Poland�s capital, James and I were met by the imposing Palace of Culture & Science, a massive socialist building put up by the communists as a gift to Warsaw after the end of world war II. We headed straight for the hostel which I had read a lot about and had high expectations of. We were not to be disappointed. The hostel appeared to have a strict policy of only employing some of the most beautiful and helpful girls in Warsaw, although we soon found upon walking around the city that this scene was repeated on every street corner. The girls at the hostel were almost hyperventilating with excitement (O.K, that�s a slight exaggeration but they were excited) when I asked them for their input into which bottles of vodka I should purchase from the local supermarket. They were rewarded by their input by a round of belly warming shots upon James and my return to the hostel soon after.

6:30am and we arrived back at the hostel blurry eyed and in much need of deep sleep. Almost the entire day was spent in a deep coma, especially for James�s who vital signs were showing signs of extreme weakness. I managed to emerge late afternoon to do a little lap of inner Warsaw and stock up on Vodka for the impending evening�s shenanigans.

7pm I think James finally emerged from his death bed, showered, and joined us in the hostel bar. By this stage we had a good gathering of your usual suspects, Canadians, Poms, Kiwis, and Aussies, all stocked up with vodka and ready for some warm up drinking games. Many a story was shared from the previous night and I was impressed to learn that most of the backpackers had been up drinking in the bar until 8am that very morning and one of the poms had shagged one of the girls working behind reception who was quite tidy.

After sufficient warming up we headed out on mass to further explore Warsaw�s nightlife. First stop was some cheesy labyrinth of sound where some of us managed to find some room around a very cool table with cushioned benches around it in a booth open facing to the bar. We were accompanied by a couple very entertaining and very cute Polish girls who I challenged to a couple of Mad Dog shots (vodka, raspberry, and a dash of Tabasco) much to my embarrassment the girls stomached the shots better than me. After that we decided there were still many clubs to be seen. I don�t remember the next club we went to but I definitely remember the 3rd, a massive open room club with a big elevated stage for the serious exhibitionists amongst us (yes I headed straight for it). It was the kind of club that sent a shot of adrenalin up your spine as you walk down the stairs, into the main room, and take in the enormity of the place. It was here that Solo (who we had caught up with again from the night before) had the good foresight to get chatting to three very nice Polish girls including Dominika the best Polish girl of all, and invited them along with James and I back to his hotel room once the club had closed. Now I didn�t think things could get much crazier than the night before but we were about to well and truly top that.

5 or 6 am, I can�t remember, we�re 20 floors up in the Novotel in central Warsaw emptying Solo�s mini-bar of vodka and watching the sun starting to emerge on the distant horizon. We�d snuck through the lobby so as not to raise the suspicion or annoyance of the desk staff but Solo was soon on the phone to his mates back in Dublin yelling to them over the speakerphone. How none of his neighbors complained about that or the porn on the T.V playing at full volume I�ll never know. 8am and we decided, in our combined level of intoxication, that it was breakfast time, so we made our way down to the buffet breakfast restaurant. Having worked in one of these places in Canada I was keen to get my fellow �guests� to show some restraint but it was a lost cause, within minutes we had well and truly made our presence felt in the restaurant and it was with a huge level of effort and diligence that everybody managed to remain on their seat and get their eggs, cooked sausages, muesli, and fruit in their mouths.

9am and we arrived back in the hostel. The girl from the night before saw us walking in, laughed to herself and gave us that look of respect that you know you have to earn in a place like this.

Now I�m onto the end of my 3rd page and there was still another 2 days of travel after this! Unfortunately though the momentum of the trip was interrupted by the consumption of a pig�s snout in Krakow by myself that left me with severe stomach cramps and kept me strictly to site seeing duties. Auchwitz, the largest of the Nazi concentration camps, was an amazing thing to see first hand and something I strongly recommend you see in your life time. You won�t truly appreciate just how barbaric this period of human history was until you see the scale and conditions of the place, touch the cold hard beds that the prisoners slept on, and hear the silence of the place yourself.

It�s time for me to sign off, I hope you�ve enjoyed reading this and Merry Christmas.

Dziekuje
Ned.
Click here for photos.

One of the girls even went into explanation of how the vodka traveled down her throat warming her gullet before spreading the warmth into her stomach and down to her�. James and I had to cut her off before it got too saucy and neither of us was able to any longer show any restraint. Previous to arriving in Warsaw James and I had agreed that a bit of Blackjack in one of Warsaw�s many Casinos would be on the cards for early in the trip. We threw on some smart threads and headed for the hostel reception to find out directions only to meet Solo, A Zimbabwean guy living in Dublin, who like us was a great appreciator for all things 21 and so we all jumped in a cab and headed to one of the Casino�s I had read about, located in the basement of the Europjski hotel. As we entered our coats were kindly removed and we were guided downstairs into one of the classiest little casinos I have ever had the fortune of attending. Everyone was dressed very smartly and luckily we had risen to the occasion and slotted in fairly well. We made our way immediately to the bar very chuffed out our selection of gambling establishments and in awe at the calibre of waitresses the casino had chosen to employ. Before long we were in search of a spot to throw a few Zlotys around (Zloty being the local currency). Unfortunately the blackjack table was fully occupied but upon indicating our dilemma to one of the table supervisors we immediately had our own new table opened for our entertainment where the minimum bet was set at 5 zloty (90p/AUS$2.20/Euro1.40 depending on where you�re from). Many a zloty was played and our dealer�s eyes almost popped out of her head when we left her with about 70 zloty in tips (just over 10 pounds).

Hail Stalin. The imposing Palace of Science & Culture, Warsaw.

Now that the gambling daemon had been exercised we moved on to the more important topic of clubbing. Warsaw has some of the most amazing nightlife I have ever experienced and even better it�s BLOODY CHEAP! Our first stop was the �Bakery� supposedly Warsaw�s finest club. This wasn�t before an extremely entertaining cab trip with what I can only describe as Borat (picture Ali G, Kazakhstan e.t.c) on crack as our cab driver. The nature of the discussions that took place within the cab are alas not appropriate for posting on a web site needless to say we were given a very informative description of what Polish girls like to do and what we could expect them to do. Once at the bakery we discovered that its peak had come and gone and luckily Solo knew of a club called Harlem. We jumped in a fresh cab and made our way into the industrial belt of Warsaw driving down an unsealed drive past the shells of old rusting cars and pulling up behind a massive warehouse from which a repetitive but reassuring bass line was pumping. Once inside we were in awe, hidden amongst all of these industrial dinosaurs was probably the single biggest and most kickarse R&B club I have ever been to. The dance floor was pumping and the ladies were bustin� a groove and I was ready to bust a groove with them, but not before a couple of shots of Zubrowka Vodka which I ended up bringing six bottles of back to England.