We accepted a kind invitation from a Spanish studend, who we met in the south of Poland, to stay in his flat in Gdansk... So we found Joaquin's place right in the old town, opposite Neptune's Fountain. The door was opened by a friend of his. We went inside and sat down. Joaquin poured wine, then we all rolled cigarettes and planned the weekend. It was good to be there - comfortable and extremely well looked after by our Spanish hosts - a perfect chance to relax a while, rest our feet, wash some clothes and hit the reset button before heading off to whatever our next destination might be.
In the evening we went out to a seaside town to the North of Gdansk called Sopot, where we net more students - two German girls who we had met in Krakow and a Japanese chap called Tomoya. They all worked together in the kitchen and cooked up a very tastey Spanish dish, the name of which I have forgotten. We drank a cocktail of wine, Vodka and cola, then went em-masse into town to hit some of the local bars..
Our first venue was a tiny, sweaty little place, built from wood and full of locals. It was quite atmospheric - lots of dancing and jostling at the bar, but I think Joaquin and friends had something else in mind, so we only had one drink, then left for another club. The guys proudly announced that this was the bigest club in town - and not only that, but that it also boasted the biggest number of beautiful girls per square inch in all of Gdansk. On entering, however, the club seemed to be more of a high school disco. It was laughable. The music was dire, as was the way in which the three Spanish boys dahsed off to find some totty. We spotted them at various points throughout the night (not difficult, as the club was well below capacity), with various long-haired waifs, who clearly found their latin flirting completely irresistable. It was the small hours of the morning when the sun rose over the sea.. the party continued and it wasn't until about 4am that the lads took a final dance with a couple of skirt-toting pencils before calling it a day and going home empty-handed..
One of the most striking features of Poland,(believe it or not) is the grafitti. It seems like a strange accolade to hold and many of the Eastern European countries are blessed with walls which are blazened with some amazing designs, but I challenge any nation to match those displayed along station walls and train carriages in Poland. And one of the best places to view such artwork is along the train route between Gdansk and Sopot - Really quite amazing!.
Poland has been great - plenty of interesting and amusing things going on. We spent one night camped outside the worlds biggest brick-built medieval castle at Malbork, then went inside for a tour the following day.. Well worth a visit. And I guess I should also pay some tribue to Joe - Ah yes, our old buddy Joe. We were in a very small bar, lit only by candles when Joe stumbled along, clearly the worse for wear, and sat down at our table for a chat. I guess he was in his mid forties and a bit of a social outcast - not so much because of the three moustaches he had tufting out from various parts of his face, but because of his insatiable thirst and his typically Polish appetite for vodka. As well as talking a lot of rubbish, he also bragged about his hippy youth and the varous 'Woodstocks' that were held in Poland as recently as the early eighties. He told us how they would all sit round enjoying music and vodka with clusters of communist police standing round doing nothing. I find this hard to imagine, especially at time when a huge clampdown was being enforced upon the nation's solidarity movements (maybe someone can clear this up for us!). I think Joe fancied himself as a bit of a linguist, but he became increasingly frustrated with Tony's Kiwi accent and at one point stood up with his fist clenched somewhere near his ear, shouting "Don't talk to me in this way!!" We waited for him to calm down, then finished our drinks and left for a Jazz bar up the road..