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| Wroclaw Train Station |
KRAKOW, POLAND The train station in Poland is a bit challenging. I have yet to meet an attendant who speaks English or German. So, I've learned to write out where and when I want to go. The ticket is clear. It does not, however, tell you the platform, and that's where it gets interesting. You need to look at the schedule board, it shows the times, destinations, and platforms for the departures. However, it doesn't show the train number and the destination shown is invetibly of some other station along the way. Without knowing the destination listed, it's impossible to know for sure which train and platform is yours. You have to ask around. Once at the platform you have the problem of getting on the right car. Your ticket clearly states the car number, but the cars aren't numbered. Again the only solution is to ask someone. Once on the train, it's not unusual to find your seat taken. Nothing earthshaking, of course, but it would be nice if the Poles would put train numbers on their schedule board and a number on the first class car. There's actually a place for that number, they just don't bother with it.
I'm on the train to Krakow, a grouchy woman has taken my seat next to the window, she's not about to change seats. A family of three sits across from me, the mother arguing with her teenage son. I say hello and the father just frowns at me. I guess I'll write about something pleasant. When I was 17, a friend and I hitched hiked, in the middle of the winter, from Minnesota to Los Angeles to attend the Rose Bowl game. It was an exhilerating feeling of freedom - embarking on what then was an adventure of unknowns. Ten years later, after finishing college, and six years Marine Reserves, I left for the uncertainty of a new country, and the appeal of freedom. (The family across from me has started eating, carving up large pieces of smelly sausages, mouths open as they chew, talk, and argue.) Now almost 40 years later, I'm at it again and the excitement is still there. I wonder if one could adopt this as a permanent life style?
So far, I have met only one person who seems to have taken up this challenge. That was the AIDS activitist, who collects countries like others collect stamps, as he advocates for AIDS victims around the world. Besides the fear of the unknown, sufficient funds might hold some back or so they may believe. (The father has fallen asleep, his jaw open, snorting, the mother reading a Polish version of the National Inquirer, the son playing a game on his cell phone.) For many retirees this lifestyle is easily within reach. My own budget is $200 per day. I eat well, sleep well, travel well, and sightsee well. I could manage on a lot less. With a little SS, retirement, or investment income, and, if necessary, renting your home out, traveling is only marginally more expensive than remaining home. (Incredible, the father just let a big fart as he adjusted his position and briefly opened his eyes to see if anyone noticed.
