The eve of departure

(Location: Cafe Mokofuk in Berlin, contemplating the surreal nature of life)

This morning I awoke in mass confusion to my cell phone alarm at 7.30AM. "Time to wake up!" It speaks. Not quite springing out of bed but moving, I got myself dressed in my travel outfit and headed downstairs for coffee and breakfast.

Matuesz's brother, Mikel, was already in the kitchen, making coffee and arranging bread, cheese, meats and lettuce for breakfast and lunch sandwiches. The bread was freshly made by their father last night (in the bread machine, but still good). We sat at the table and chatted. Their mom came down, snapping photos and generally happy.

The sunlight streamed in the kitchen. My day of departure.

I'd arrived three days prior, and taken part in a family wedding reception, a name-day party and a day of sight-seeing in Poznan. All delightful. Just over two years ago, I'd met Mateusz on a minibus in Malaysia, the first Polish person who I'd interacted with. When I realised I was going to be going through his town, I emailed him. He invited me to stay with them and thoughtfully invited me to really be part of their family for a few days.

I'll have to reflect and write more, but suffice to say, I felt like family, and it was a perfect ending to my time in Europe. Poland reminds me of my roots, with the farmland and lakes, and people who are just regular nice folks. I mean that in the best way possible.

We drove to the train station this morning, Matuesz hopping out to make sure I went to the right track, and I waved him goodbye in his lime-green auto. Until we meet again.

(If you read the link to Mateusz's name, you can see how we ran into each other in Kuala Lumpur accidentally after our first meeting on the bus, something that occurred again yesterday when I was wandering around Poznan. I came up a street, and looked up and there he was saying, "Dr. Schultz!" We are not sure why we keep running into each other. It does not make sense. I am supposed to try to figure this out, but I think the chances of my enlightenment on this topic are slim. And no, my friends don't call me Dr. Schultz, only when they are harassing Polish guys.)

Sometimes the best places are right under your nose.

For my last day in Gdansk, I'd planned to hang out near to my hostel, in the park and the art museum.

Polish toilet sign. I have never thought of myself as a circle, but I guess I will start now.

In Olwia park. Which also housed the modern art museum, which is free on Fridays. Yay.

Inside the modern art museum.

I love these colors, and I think I would like to paint my doors aqua too.

Sometimes you find beautiful things in the bathroom.

Cafe Delfin. I sat here and got buzzed off my one glass of red wine.

Lunch/dessert. It was caramel-something and really tasty.

Cafe Delfin, Gdansk

Trucks huffing outside. The swish of the swinging door to the bar. Clicking. Unintelligible language. Light wafting from the picture window inscribed Café Delfin. A moth who can’t find her way out running over and over into the clear barricade. A film projector, cord cut, now decoration- seems perfect design with the moth flitting about. I think of movies in elementary school - the dust in the projector light. Six blush brown-edged roses perched in a clear vase, beckoning romantic dreams. Two waitresses: one young, one old. The clank of a glass. Roughing of chair legs across the tiles. Electronic ambience drops from the corner speaker. A phone song rings, interrupting my reverie.

Old cranberry colored theatre seats lining the wall match my dry red, which is making me dizzy at two in the afternoon. I finish a pen off. Satisfaction. The swinging door again. Paying at the counter, an old man in a vest, greenish khakis, and a plaid shirt, all hanging loosely off him, slides his wallet in his back pocket and shuffles to the bathroom.

No English. I’m alone in my thoughts, alone at my table, alone in my worry for the moth who is resting on the window sill barricaded by glass. I want to move her, but I am scared to touch her. She rests, waiting to garner the energy to bang the glass again.

Gdansk: where all the tourists go

I'm having a little trouble finding inspiration in Gdansk and surrounding area. Which is ok. Sometimes places are like that, and it's the contrast that makes other places feel special.

There were so many souvenirs for sale, and the crowds so heavy that it felt like Munich in summer. After the last few months of sparse tourists, I felt claustrophobic navigating the hoards of people moving in slow motion en masse like half-frozen Heinz ketchup. To get away, to breathe, was mostly what I was thinking.

Not that there weren't some pretty sights...

The central train station is one of the most beautiful in Europe.

Yesterday I took a water tram to Hel peninsula. I went an hour early to buy tickets in Sopot but they were already sold out, so I took a train to Gdynia and tried again, and ended up not going to Hel town, but to a neighboring town of Jastarnia. Everyone wanted to go to Hel, and the tickets were again sold out.

The ferry was crowded with screaming and running kids, and I couldn't help but feel happy I didn't have one of my own. I sat and wrote and stared at the sea. Arrival on Hel, I expected it to be tourist central, but I was surprised to find it felt quiet and peaceful. So I continued my pilgrimage to Hel, walking to the tip of the Hel peninsula and then catching a train back to my hostel later in the day. The price to go to Hel and Back: 45zl (approx 11 Euros).

There were multiple bunkers on the Hel peninsula, installed mostly by the Germans. Poland gets the award for most bunkers seen after Albania on this trip.

The Hel peninsula was aptly named, covered in billboards (WTF?) and sun-worshipers.

Wolf's Lair, Poland

My long-haul bus riding days are over (I hope). Yesterday I caught a bus to town and a second bus to Gdansk. It was supposed to be 4.5 hours, and it was about five. Near the end, I felt like crawling out of my skin. I'm traditionally a good bus rider, but after over two months of public transport, I'm not enjoying it as much as the first week. No surprise there.

On Monday, I made a pilgrimage to Wolf's Lair. Hitler lived here mostly from 1941-45, and chose the area as a good location to plan and execute the invasion of the Soviet Union. In 1944, many of Hitler's high ranking German officers tried to assassinate him here. Obviously failed. When the war was over in 1945 as the Red Army was approaching, the Germans blew up most of the bunkers.

The woods are like Northern Minnesota. I found it surreal to feel so at home in a place where so many evil things were planned, but the idea that there were still people trying to stop him made me feel good about humanity. If this were in Germany, it would be crawling with tourists, but often I found myself walking among the ruins and the woods alone. I heard no English and the staff at Wolf's Lair barely spoke any either, which sort of added to the experience making it less like a tourist attraction and more like walk through the woods of history past.

Here is the cute bus driver on the way to Gierloz (where Wolf's Lair is located). Even though it was only 40km from the town I was last in, it took from 10.50 until about 14.15 to get there. This is why I will be happy to not be so reliant on public transport pretty damn soon.

So in Wolf's Lair, Hitler's top generals tried to assassinate him, (unsuccessfully, damn it) and when they were unsuccessful, Hitler and Co. executed about 5000 people who might have been related to the plot. Others were taken into "kinship custody" and some survived the war. There was a building with an exhibit and photos in the complex. Sadly the movie was in Polish but the signboards were all also in English and Deutsch.

The ruins are in a beautiful location, like northern Minnesota. Even with mosquitoes. At one point there were 2,000 people living here, but only 20 women. They even had a cinema, sauna, etc.

Hitler's personal bunker. The signs say no entry to the ruins, but no one is monitoring and everyone was going in. I walked through Hilter's bunker. It was dark.

It is not Minnesota.

I'd wondered if it would be worth it to go out of my way to get to Wolf's Lair, but it was certainly worth it.

You could pay 5Zl and practice shooting but I don't really like to even look at guns let alone shoot them. In my world they would not exist. But it is not my world.

It is pretty though. And the bottles look tempting.

The person who was given credit for the main part of the assassination attempt (he carried the briefcase in) was Claus von Stauffenberg. They blew up the building that Hilter was in, but unfortunately Hitler was only mildly hurt and one person was killed. This plaque says approx: Here stand the barracks where Claus von Stauffenberg, an assoc of Hitler's, and many others went against the nationalism/socialism/dictator and they paid with their lives.

My hotel 70zl ($25). It is simple and comes with breakfast and was a former barracks. I would recommend staying here. It's really peaceful after the tourists leave. And it also includes entry to the ruins. (Which is normally 12zl). So, quite handy.

They have decked out Hitler's headquarters into an inexpensive beautiful restaurant with good food.

I was obsessed with the similarity to Minnesota. Even the ground looks like Bemidji to me. The wet sandy dirt. The road that gradually slopes into the edge. The sparse grass.

I think there are blueberries and black bears in there.

The sign gives away that it is not Minnesota but without that, I'm sure you would not know the difference. To me this was lovely.

Waiting at the bus station to head to Gdansk.

Ok so then Poland morphed into North Dakota...

Here is North Dakota, taken as I came in on the Amtrak from Portland, OR in 2009.

Poland, from the bus 2011... slightly better camera.

So maybe Poland was the perfect place to end. With its similarities to North Dakota and Minnesota, I can almost taste the Midwestern air. It's only seven days away from being real. It's not that I want to get out of here, but the transition is as important as the change itself. These two plus months have been the transition from Germany to the States. To end here is to go home, in more ways than one.

After Gdansk I'll be staying with friends in Poznan and Berlin, so it's also my last bit in hostels, which is a nice thought too. There comes a time when you want to wake up and walk around in your underwear, throw laundry in when you feel like it, open the fridge to things that are yours, go to bed when you like without others coming and going all night. Not that they are big issues, but when they are gone, I won't miss them. Until the urge comes for the next trip, that is.

This fall I'll be making a USA tour: Chicago, the Midwest (Iowa, MN, ND), Portland & Seattle, New Orleans, New York City. So the adventure is not over- just changing. Besides, there is the adventure of a new hometown and new way of life... with fresh roasted coffee beans around the corner, black bicycle rides, arts and culture, and family a day's drive away. Let the stories continue...