Escalators to Heaven, Stairways to Hell

My relationship with Poland was rough from the get-go.

I had spent the entirety of my time in Gdansk in an increasingly frantic state of panic, as I attempted to navigate the humid streets to find the bus station that turned out to be on the other side of an underground tunnel, which also happened to be under construction[1]. I did make it to my bus, soaked in sweat, near tears, and with all of two minutes to spare.

Once I had made it to Torun, which was after a four-hour-long bus ride spent surreptitiously trying to apply deodorant and pull myself together, it was to check into my hostel. Which would have been fine, except – there’s always an except with me, isn’t there? – that I was terrified of my hostel[2]. And it was terrified of me. The poor receptionist didn’t speak any English and was forced to deal with an exhausted, smelly, and emotional English speaker. On her first day at work, too. So after collecting my key and a towel, I dragged myself up the second flight of absurdly steep and slippery stairs to my room. While doing so, I made note of how many times I slid around on the stairs and decided that I’d just be very careful coming down.

The next morning, I headed out into the small town with a marginally more cheerful mindset, which wasn’t hard – Torun is the home of not only Nicolas Copernicus, but of gingerbread, as well. I had failed to get tickets to the Living Museum of Gingerbread[3], but doggedly peered into Nicolas Copernicus’s house until the museum opened an hour after I began loitering. I was determined to soak up every scrap of knowledge that little house could offer[4].

I decided that Poland and I could start over now. The town smelled like gingerbread. Come on.

But, regardless of my optimism about Poland, I was still a little wary after the Gdansk bus fiasco, so I decided it would be prudent to get to the train station early. Two and a half hours early.

I went back to the hostel to collect my bags and begged the receptionist to call a taxi for me (with the way my linguistic abilities had served me thus far in Poland, I figured it would be best to minimize my chances of getting lost again).

A quick note about the hostel set up: to get into the hostel, you had to buzz in through one gate, then buzz into the building, then immediately climb one of the aforementioned flights of stairs to the reception. The best security a girl could ask for.

The only issue: I am clumsy. And often unlucky.

Hauling my duffel and my backpack, which was loaded up with my camera and laptop (and 3 books – this blog isn’t called “Overseas Reader” for no reason), I started down the steps to meet my cab. And I made it about 2 steps before I was suddenly sliding down the steps on my back and landing sprawled at the foot of the door. Which was promptly opened by the cleaning lady, leading me to bounce upright with an agility I’ve never displayed before and have not seen since.

Convinced that I was bleeding and broken somewhere, but unwilling to show such weakness, I gave the lady a smile and oddly, some nonsense in French, and ran outside to get stuck at the entry gate. Really, it wasn’t that hard to open (and I’d done it that morning), but my brain had reverted to neolithic instincts and technology. After several minutes of ineffectually trying to pry apart steel bars, a group of passing strangers helpfully pointed at the button right next to me that released the door.

From there, it was a straight shot to the train station, with a good couple hours to spare, and significantly more bruises than I had initially set out with.

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[1] In fairness to the kind Polish people who endured my mono-lingual struggles, several people tried to convey this to me.

[2] I have never been so scared to touch anything in a bathroom, and I’ve been in some pretty sketchy gas station bathrooms.

[3] Torun is known for it’s gingerbread (or pierniki, which is one of four Polish words I now know). The Living Museum of Gingerbread is the largest European gingerbread museum, which I wasn’t aware there was steep competition for.

[4] GUYS. THEY INTEGRATED VIRTUAL REALITY TECHNOLOGY INTO 15TH-CENTURY HOUSE. THAT’S INSANE.