August 19, 1998, Wednesday

In the morning I rode a bus in the direction of the large market on the other side of the river. It again took two buses to get there. Two men from Holland warned me about pickpockets and about wearing a fanny bank because it was easy for anyone to cut the strap. There were many booths most of which had clothing for sale. The grounds were crowded with people. I worked my way between the booths. There were a few booths carrying souvenirs but that wasn't what the market was about. The people came to buy clothing and shoes at a bargain price. The market only stayed open in the morning and early afternoon while I was there many were boxing up their goods.

In the afternoon I rode a bus to the old town. They're the merchants were compared to sell to the tourists, who came from all over the world. There was much Amber-necklaces rings and ear rings. There were dolls, wood carvings, art paintings, outdoor restaurants and hotdog stands in the shadow of buildings. Some of the buildings dated back to the 13th century.

In the courtyard horse-drawn carriages were for hire. Surrounding the square were the beautiful old buildings, each with individual architectural style. It was a shame to think of bombs from the sky wrecking the special treasures many buildings had to be rebuilt after the war 85% of Warsaw was destroyed during the war much of it has been rebuilt

In the evening back at the hotel I prepared my luggage for the train ride to Kraków.

.

August 18, 1998, Tuesday

The buffet breakfast included in the room price was quite adequate with a variety of fruits and salad vegetables but no eggs cooked to order. As usual, I made myself a salad for lunch. At 945 a young good looking woman came into the lobby carrying a sign that said “city tour.” The van type tour bus and driver were waiting outside. The tour lady sat in the front seat by the driver and using a Mike explained that buildings and monuments as we drove along. Another woman from the hotel and myself were the only ones on board. It was interesting. We walked in old town and stopped at a shop for ice cream cones. Excellent ice cream! We entered St. John's Cathedral, which was destroyed along with 85% of Warsaw. But since the war it has been restored. On many of the bombed out buildings the restoration was continuing.

We went through the summer palace of King Augustus. We saw many priceless paintings and furnishings. And we went to the ghetto to see Memorial to honor the victims of the Holocaust. It was a pleasant three hours well spent.

The railroad station was not far from the hotel so in the afternoon I walked there to give my real ticket. They were about 15 ticket windows all busy. I didn't know which window to go to so I asked for help at the information desk. I didn't know which window to go to so I asked for help at the information desk. The men there rode out in Polish information I would need to get a ticket. The woman working with her computer issues be a ticket. I looked it over and thought the departure date was wrong. When I got the woman's attention I complained. She spit out a series of Polish words at me. A woman waiting in line behind me showed me where I was reading the date in the wrong place. I gave both when an apology a smile and they smiled back.

I tried writing in the afternoon I rode a bus to the Main market. My first bus turned off the way to the market so I got jumped off and climbed into another. At the market all the booths were closed without a soul around. I took a return bus back to the Sobieski hotel and walked a block to a restaurant with outside tables. The weather was good all day with no rain and warm enough to be comfortable. It was pleasant eating out in the open.

August 17, 1998, Monday

Most of Monday was spent on the bus from Tallin to Warsaw. Most of the passengers were young backpack people. Several were from Berlin, two girls were from Canada and some from Poland. There was a couple of Pols with their three-year-old daughter and an older Polish woman named Lydia, who spoke fairly good English and worked as a tour guide. She talked to me about giving me a private tour of Warsaw but it sounded too expensive. She did talk to my taxi driver about price and gave him my hotel name. It was difficult to communicate with taxi drivers. One driver took me to the airport after I told him to take me to the bus station. Another took me to the American embassy after I requested old town.

The bus driver was talkative but she didn't speak English. One girl or a sure where the Canadian logo. I asked her if she was a Canadian. She said no, only her shirt was Canadian. I never discovered what nationality she was.

The taxi ride to the Sobieski hotel was short and I thought too expensive. The hotel was a four-star hotel and had all the amenities of a good American hotel. At the tour desk I made arrangements to take the city tour in the morning.

On the ride south to Warsaw through the countryside we passed through miles of national forest in both Lithuania and Poland. There were interesting told him polls somewhat carved figures of local figures in folk costumes. The poles were intricately carved and some brightly colored.

The land was flat and was being cultivated for many crops. It appeared to be fertile and productive land. We saw almost none of the picturesque horse-drawn carts of the past. Modern machinery was in evidence everywhere. Some of it looked pretty old but serviceable.

Sunday, August 16, 1998

The important thing for me to do was arrange transportation to Warsaw. In order to buy a ticket I needed enough Lithuanian money. Dollars were on acceptable. At the railroad station the woman showed me a sign that said Visas were now required for anyone to enter Poland. At the bus station there was no such sign. The ticket agent would have sold me a ticket, but I didn't have enough Lithuanian money. Because it was Sunday, the banks were closed. I hunted and luckily found a currency exchange not far from the bus station. They traded my $50 bill for the equipment in Lithuanian currency and besides I bought some Polish currency giving me the right currency to pay a taxi driver in Warsaw. I went back and bought my bus ticket.

Now that I had my ticket, I found a taxi driver to take me to old town. He could speak no English and could understand where I wanted to go. He took me to the American embassy. The embassy building was close to the street. A terrorist could move up a vehicle loaded with explosives just as they did in Kenya. The guard, who spoke English, told the driver where to drop me off when I saw a building erected guys I told the driver to stop, got out and wandered the crooked streets until he came out at the Catholic Church I had seen the night before. In my wanderings I had passed some groups of people following guides who were talking about the history of the buildings.

At the Catholic Church, the largest cathedral in the country, mass was about to start. The interior with its high don't ceilings and many oil paintings covering the wall. The scenes of the 14 stations of the cross were large framed in oil painted canvases. He reminded me Jerusalem I walked the path of the passion and crucifixion over the narrow cobbled streets. I stayed for the mass. The church was crowded with many people standing.

After the services, I returned to the festival. On the stage where the large band had played boys and girls in native Lithuanian costumes were keeping up their heritage by dancing traditional steps. A woman's chorus dressed in colorful costumes sang for us.

I ordered another potato pan cake and sat down at a table occupied by a Russian young man who tried to talk to me in Russian. We had a conversation that got nowhere. When he got up to go he shook hands with me and acted like I was a long lost best friend. The woman at the next table raised her eyebrows and smiled. They were not all that fond of Russians.

At a booth selling hot sandwiches I bought a 6 inch kielbasa on a hogey roll dressed with hot mustard and uncooked cabbage to take home for a later meal. At the taxi stand be offered to take me to my hotel for 15 latis. I offered him seven. One of the driver said he would take me for eight. I said let's go. By the time I learn how to handle the taxi drivers it doesn't do me much good. I'm off to another town, usually in another country.

August 15, 1998, Saturday

By 7 a.m. when the doors to the morning buffet opened I was the first to enter. My breakfast had to be a rush job because my6 bus was scheduled to leave at 8:15 a.m. The taxi dropped me off at the bus station and I waited only a short while for my bus. We were on our way with me sitting in the front seat where I could watch the scenery through the front window. There were two fellows operating the bus, a driver and a conductor. One man drove half way and then the other took the wheel.

We crossed into Lithuania with no problems at the border and arrived at the Vilnius bus station late morning. There was no line of taxis like in Riga. In the street outside the station one was parked with the driver eating his lunch. He drove me clear across town to the Balatonis Hotel, which was not in the town center, to my disappointment. This error for the long ride was 28 litas which relates to five dollars so taxi fares were cheap. The manager said it would cost about two dollars to old town, where all the tour is still. He said there was a festival in progress.

The taxi driver dropped me at the festival grounds. There was a throng milling about. It was much like our Olympia Lake fair with booths selling food crafts and souvenirs and there were rides, but nothing was sophisticated. There was a simple ball in the cup game but none of the fancy carnival games that we have. There was a bandstand where gate where first clowns were performing and later a band of about 20 played at first marching music and then real peppy jazz music. Like New Orleans and when the Saints come marching in. Many in the crowd were swaying to the music.

At one booth a woman was ladling out white chunky dough onto a hot griddle and frying them into large patties. After ordering to patties are a sat at a table. The patties tasted like potato pancakes. A couple asked me if they could sit at my table. He was a well-built man about 60 named Zed. She was named Sophia and was in her early 50s. Zed had been a mechanic and a Soviet plant that had shutdown. He said no one would hire him because he was too old. He was bitter about it and blamed the KBG for his troubles. He had stopped looking for work and said his troubles would be over when he was 6 feet under. He could speak no English. Sophia was a musician playing with a large band that 10 years ago had played all over the world such as Russia, China, England, Canada and so forth. They no longer did so because the money situation had tightened up all over the world. She still played with the orchestra but made less than 100 the toes a week, about $25.

They wanted me to walk through the old town with them to show me the sights. But after walking a short distance I climbed into a taxi and returned to the hotel. Sophia seemed all right but I did not quite trust Zed. He was a bitter loser who would probably like to see communism back so he could get paid for doing nothing.