I've started talking to myself

There is no "All aboard!" announcement, no whistle.  When departure time comes, the train just quietly rolls out of the station.  There are multiple train companies operating various local and long distance lines throughout Europe, which makes train travel easy.  Today I was traveling on Polrail, from Berlin to Warsaw.  I was in 2nd class, in a 6 person compartment.  We sat 3 x 3, and I got what for me was the best possible seat-by the window, and facing the direction of travel.

The woman across from me seemed rather cross, doing a lot of rustling about, establishing her foot space, etc.  But I was excited about the trip, and undaunted by her mutterings. And if I am honest, I must say that I readily pushed back when she stepped on my toes.  We traveled east out of Berlin, retracing my trip from my hostel in the morning.  Before long we were past the city, and while I tried, I could not tell when we entered Poland.  The first indication was a station sign in Polish seen out the window.

After a while I worked up the nerve to explore, and found a delightful cafe car.  I sat at a table for two, ate breakfast and watched the world go by. Back at the compartment, all was not bliss.  Ms Grumpy had apparently been on the phone for quite a while (and continued to be).  The man sitting by the door grimaced and told me she was being rude by not stepping out in the corridor.

Traveling where you do not know the language is both isolating and insulating.  I can happily ignore the conductor's announcements, but I cannot ask questions about what I am seeing, which means I miss out on some things.

We rolled by forests, ponds and mysterious paths along the way, remote overpasses covered in graffiti.  There were fields and farms, streams and marshes, and I tried hard to capture them in my mind.  I wished to ask about the weather and the crops.  I saw corn ready for harvest, some stubble where it already had been, fields of cabbages and other things I could not name.  But I also saw fields with what looked like newly started cabbage, and some that must surely be winter wheat still green and new.  I wonder when they get a frost, I would have thought it would be soon. Scarecrows in a fenced in garden, cows in the pasture, and farmhouses with their requisite outbuildings sprinkled about could have been anywhere in the upper Midwest.  Marlene, you would feel right at home, I think.

I tried hard to stay awake, knowing it is unlikely I will ever pass this way again. I have been advised by several people that I should go to Krakow, because Warsaw was nearly bombed to the ground by Hitler, and therefore there are not a lot of historical buildings left here.  Part of me regrets that I am not going, and another reminds myself that there are things I will miss.  I need a few more lifetimes.

This made me wonder though, about how we assign value to places to visit.  What about history, about antiquity draws us? Even people who expressly say they do not like history tend to like to see the pyramids in Cairo, or the medieval city in Krakow.  I wonder. Out loud sometimes.

I have a small studio apartment to myself here, which is nice because I can do laundry, and do some organizing for the next stage of the journey, without having to think about locking it all away when I go out.  My instructions, received via email, were to walk toward the Iintercontinental Hotel, then turn down the street next to it that had a neon Museum sign, and then it gave me the address. I had to ask for the hotel, but the rest was as promised.  When I rounded the corner at the Museum sign, I saw a man standing down at the corner, and I wondered if he was watching for me.  I had mentioned that I had a backpack in my email, so he approached me.  Funny way to check in.  I am at Starbucks now, because my little place does not have internet.  I am going for some dinner in a while and then back to my temporary home, and hope the rain is cleared tomorrow. I actually don't know what time it is here, but I will soon.