Crackin' Krakow Part 1

The train rolled into Krakow shortly after 6AM, and I emerged from the cabin bleary eyed after the two passport checks on the way had cut my total amount of sleep down to a few hours. So much for getting the sleeper cabin. I found a bank machine, pulled out some local currency, the official name being 'Zloty', a name which I could never remember and simply referred to generally as the 'wotsit'. I'd gotten used to using a currency other than the Euro down in Hungary, however changing exchange rates every few days starts to get confusing, and it can become difficult to appreciate the value of things in general.

Having meandered out from the station and seeing my tram go right past me, I decided it would take less time to simply walk rather than wait the half hour for the next one. By this stage I'd gotten good at working with maps, and I began to fold the one I'd picked up in Budapest into the nice little square that I'm used to dealing with. Halfway through this process I managed to rip it in half and ended up having to try to walk down the road whilst holding the oddly shaped pieces of paper together to know where I was going. I keep a local city map in my back pocket at all times, and this combined with the constant refolding of the thing means that I generally have to get another one every two or three days. This one had officially lasted about 15 minutes.

I made it into the hostel around 7, found the reception, where the guy behind the desk was chatting with a couple of the patrons who had been out the night before, obviously had enjoyed each others company so much that they hadn't actually been to bed yet. The staff informed me apologetically that my bed wasn't currently available, something I had fully expected as I hadn't booked it until that night, but they urged me to leave my bags with them and head upstairs and help myself to the breakfast. The girl of the newly formed coupled on the couch told me that she hadn't used her bed yet, and since her cab was coming in half an hour that I was most welcome to it. The staff weren't particularly keen on this idea, so I thanked her for the consideration and head upstairs to find another Australian guy, Rod, who was in exactly the same position as I was. He had, in fact, been on exactly the same train as I had, but his more hasty exit from the station had meant he'd made it in time for the tram. We chatted over bread with cheese and a tub of yoghurt, both keenly eyeing the two couches in the main living area of the place. Similar to Budapest, this hostel was more a converted apartment, but unlike Budapest (or perhaps because I'd just gotten used to it by now), it felt a lot more comfortable. There were three dorm rooms, one of 10 beds, one of 6 and one of 4 and the living area between them was quite large, with two very comfortable couches, a TV which was left perpetually on one of the music channels and a long eating table down one side. About 15 minutes into our conversation, another guy emerged from one of the dorms, let us know that there was a killer snorer in his room and proceeded to go to pass back out on one of the couches. I poked my head into the 10 bed dorm, and spying the mattress on the floor with the immaculate sheets on it and taking a punt that it belonged to the recently left girl from downstairs, decided to graciously offer Rod the other couch and crashed out there.

A couple hours later I got up, not wanting to have the staff find me using this bed of which they'd strongly discouraged, and luckily by that stage one of the couches had freed up. I promptly made myself at home there and got another couple hours of sleep, interrupted here and there by the other inhabitants grabbing breakfast around me.

Eventually Rod and I were woken up by the increased activity in the room, and started hearing about the stories of the night previously from all those around. The stories were hardly necessary, as the look of death on most peoples faces was enough to tell that there had been a big night out for all involved. There were about 4 or 5 American guys, most of them Texans, a couple of Canadians including one guy named "Boo", a couple Irish girls, Fiona and Claire, and a couple British guys, Richard and Steve to boot. Apparently there were more people who had been out, but they were still crashed out around the place. We all chatted for a couple of hours and realised that pretty much nothing was going to get done by anyone that day.

One thing that I had decided was going to happen that day was to get some new shoes. I bought a brand new pair of Colorado's before I left, a brand that has served me particularly well in the past. After the previous two and a bit months of travelling, however, I'd completely worn this pair out, to the extent that if I walked in wet weather, water would come through a crack in the bottom of the sole and soak my right foot. I used the opportunity to actually have a look around the city a bit whilst chasing down shoe shops, and eventually made my way into the main square. It was pretty big, with a lot of market stalls around, a stage and also a Polish barbecue. Deciding it was time to eat, I ordered a meat skewer and a Polish sausage, at which point the server turned around and said "One skewer and Kielbasa". I nearly grinned my face off, getting extremely excited that I'd just heard the word 'Kielbasa' outside the context of a Tenacious D song, even though I did know somewhere in the vault of my brain that Kielbasa is the Polish word for sausage.

I ate my lunch with a Polish beer, made my way back past one of the shoe stores that I'd found on my trek into the center, picked up what seemed to be a pair that I could wear out in London but also comfortable enough to finish my European Shenanigans, and made my way back to the hostel. I found Rod out on the tiny balcony, and after cracking a couple of beers we met up with Claire and Fiona and headed out to get some food at the Chinese restaurant across the road. It was good stuff, and it was about this time that I realised how cheap Poland was in general. For a good quality Chinese dish with rice and a beer cost me the equivalent of about 4 to 5 Euro.

On the way back to the hostel we passed the bottleshop, picked up some booze and headed back upstairs. I'd decided to grab some Jagermeister and Red Bulls considering how cheap they were, something that was to spell out how I'd be starting my nights for the rest of the time in Krakow. By this stage everyone seemed to have recovered reasonably well from the previous nights efforts, and within a few hours the drinks were flowing again. There were more people up and about by this stage, and it wasn't too long before Claire had initiated a drinking game known as "Kings", which involves spreading a deck of cards around a glass in the center. Each person takes it in turn to select a card from the pile, and each card has a particular action associated with it. One special card worth mentioning is a king, when everyone is required to pour a little bit of whatever they are drinking into the cup in the center. The rules vary on the next bit, some saying that the person drawing the last king is to drink the contents of the communal mug, however in our game anyone drawing a 2 was required to partake of its rotten contents.

The game went for a couple hours, with some getting more drunk than most. Fiona was the one to select the final 2, being tasked with finishing off the by-now-nearly-full concoction in the middle. She, however, hadn't quite recovered from the previous nights endeavours, and actually never managed to finish it off.

After everyone had become sufficiently lubricated, we all, sans Fiona who had decided that bed was her next destination, made our way to a club in town called "Prozac", probably the most touristy club we could have chosen in all of Krakow. As we were walking past the hostel reception the guy who owns the place, Slovak, quickly came out and told us to wait. He then returned in short order with a round of vodka shots for all involved, an act that would become tradition for every time we left the hostel at night. I'd spoken to various people in my travels by this point on the merits of vodka and how one can stand to drink it straight, and the general consensus seems to be to keep it in the freezer, and then if it is of reasonable quality it actually goes down quite well. So much so that even the intoxicating effects of it are slightly cleaner. I thought that the Poles, being quite proud of their vodka (pronounced everywhere in central to eastern Europe as 'wodka', and even spelt that way occasionally), would have been fairly strict about this cooling process. Apparently I was mistaken, and the room temperature spirit filled everyones bellies with a small fire and a grimace to boot.

By the time we'd made it to the club everyone was in a pretty good mood, and we sent one of the girls in to check it out, being as they were allowed in for free. After getting the thumbs up a group of about 10 of us all ventured into the place and found a nice couched area not far off the dance floor. Rounds were bought, and people started feeling the music, which was being played by a DJ downstairs and pumped through to the dance floor upstair as well. By this stage I'd heard the rumours of one of the American guys, Jon, who apparently was able to break out some moves on the floor. It wasn't long before he decided to throw them down again, and in short order he was spinning on his head and ripping out all the classic breakdancing moves you'd expect by a bunch of baggy-clothed wearing guys on the street with a boombox. This brought cheers from the crowd, and was quite impressive to watch. It also gave a few of the rest of us reason to go and join him on the tiles.

Less than a minute of being on the floor, and suddenly I had three fit girls climbing all over me. Two behind and one in front, all grooving and groping. Needless to say, in my mind this is exactly what the fans want, and in short order I was making mental plans to move all my stuff to Poland. However, I quickly realised what these girls were up to as I started to feel hands and fingers enter my pockets and start to fish around. This wasn't too much of a problem for me, as before I'd even gotten to Europe I'd made the decision to have my wallet and camera attached to my jeans with some little cables/straps I'd picked up along the way. I'd somehow allowed myself to become a pack mule for Claire, however, and her little wallet was currently unprotected in my back pocket. Not wanting to be the party-pooper though, I just kept a very wary consciousness of where these current belongings were, and allowed these three girls to keep doing their close-body-groping-thing. One of them managed to claw out my map, which I swiped back in quick time, and I think now that they'd realised I'd worked out their game they decided to go and find some more unwary prey. I got off the floor and was sure to inform the rest of our group what was going on, lest they become victims of this rather sneaky little scam. They even had a crack at Claire, who, wearing a skirt, was really not a very clever target. They did delight into throwing her clothes up a little.

Some of us checked out the downstairs area which was the same as that upstairs, except a much more crowded dance floor. I have a feeling the lighting guy either wasn't paying attention or wasn't there at all. It was either this, or someone had spilt their beer on the 'off' switch for the strobe light, as the entire time I was down there, the thing was doing its little flashy thing the entire time. It was extremely off putting, and after about fifteen minutes I decided that I was probably going to go mental if I stayed any longer and Claire and I retreated back upstairs. We had a wander around the rest of the club and found a few other places which were pretty funky. This included a quieter, loungey sort of area where I happened to notice one rather successful punter with two fit girls taking him in turns on the couch, and also an interesting little balcony over a smaller dance floor with a very low ceiling. I remember the music was different, although by this stage I can't actually remember what it entailed.

By this stage the group had become quite segregated throughout the club, and about 3 or 4, Claire suggested it was time to go and we headed back to the hostel where a bunch of the American guys were on the couches making a whole ton of noise. We mingled with them for a while, then retreated to the balcony, however the Americans were having none of it and tended to fill the place with noise no matter where anyone was. After a couple of hours of this I decided I'd had enough of drunk yanks and as the sun was poking its rays through the horizon I crashed out for the night.