Series of misadventures trying to get to Wroclaw, Poland

Here’s why you should never read a good book when you need to make a train connection.

My journey from Torun to Wroclaw began with a series of excellent misadventures. And it started before I even woke up.

In the middle of the night, I turned over to sleep on my stomach, slipping my arm under my pillow to enter my favourite sleeping position that makes me feel like I’m giving my mattress a great big hug. *shwink* I wake up out of sweet slumber to notice I have sent my locker keys – that I had so “carefully” placed under my pillow – flying in an indistinct direction. In the morning I wake up to find them sitting under my bed in an unreachable spot. I would use my selfie stick to fish it out, but it along with everything else I am travelling with is locked up in the locker. It also happens to be 6:30 in the morning so everyone, including the hostel staff, is sleeping.

Eventually after about an hour, the girl at the front desk lends me a broom stick so I can fish my keys out and get ready for the day. So much for my plan to wake up early so I’d have time for a nice breakfast before catching my train.

But, I’m not one to complain. Happy and thankful for another beautiful travel day in Poland, I skip through the train station, grab a quick sandwich and coffee for breakfast and catch my train well in time.

I had made a point of dressing warmly since the day before during my trainride to Torun I was freezing the entire time because the AC was cranked. Today’s train looked a tad different though.

It was a rickety ol’ thing that looked like it was made in the 1800s. A little dirty and definitely no air conditioning. But do you see me complaining? No! It was another little adventure on board a local train and I was going to enjoy it.

So I took a few pictures, sent a few Snaps, and then sat down with a good book. I had to make one transfer but it was the final stop for the train I was currently on so I figured I didn’t need to pay attention to the stops as there’s no way I’d miss getting off at the final station.

Famous last words.

I was looking up occasionally to see the names of the train stations we were stopping at. About 30 minutes into the ride, when I looked up I saw “Inowroclaw” signs on the train platform. That was my transfer station and we were moving away from it!!!

Cue panic.

I grabbed my purse and dashed through the cars, hoping to come across the ticket collector, but there was absolutely no one on the train. I ran to the front of the train and popped my head in the doorway of the train conductor.

“Excuse me!” I said, gently knocking on the already open door.

The man whipped around in surprise and started yelling something in Polish at me.

I stared at him blankly and said “Sorry, I don’t speak Polish”

He continued to yell in Polish gesturing towards the back of the train.

Yea buddy, I get that much too. I was supposed to get off back there.

“I don’t understand,” I said

More yelling in Polish.

“I’m sorry, I don’t understand. I missed my stop.”

He shook his head mumbled some other words, then began asking me questions in Polish.

“I’m sorry, I don’t understand.”

My face began to feel flush and I probably looked pretty upset at this point. Upset, a little because I was potentially about to be stranded, but more because this man decided raising his voice at me was the appropriate response in this situation. At this point, he must have noticed I was upset, because he changed his tone of voice.

He started listing names of cities. I now understood that he was trying to ask where I’m going.

“Oh, Wroclaw!” I said. Thank goodness I had practiced the proper Polish pronunciation of this city. It’s pronounced “vrots-wahf.”

He mumbled some more in Polish, then gestured with his hand, motioning me to sit down.

I watched him stop the train, turn of the engine and then fiddle with some settings, all of which involved pushing big, clunky buttons, turning giant knobs and pulling onto several large levers. During this process he once more turned towards me and gestured reassuringly with his hand, presumably telling me not to worry.

Once the engine was off, he gestured me towards the back of the train. I thought he was going to let me off on the tracks and make me walk back to the station. The idea troubled me for about half a second, but then I decided it would be an adventure and a great story to tell later. After all, it was 10 in the morning and I had a whole day to fix this mess.

When we got the end of the train, I picked up my bags and got ready for my hike along the train tracks, but when I looked over, I saw the conductor walk into the engine and began turning knobs and pulling levers.

He was turning on the train!

It took a few minutes for him to start the train, during which time he turned around once more to gestured reassuringly.

He drove the train slowly back towards the edge of the train station, then popped the door open to let me off on the tracks. He stepped onto the stairs and helped me make the nearly four foot jump from the train door to the rocky ground between the tracks, then motioned towards the platform.

I stepped carefully over the rocks (thank God I was wearing shoes and not flip flops!) and then clambered onto the platform.

What an adventure!

I got to Inowroclaw with plenty of time to use the washroom and find the correct platform for my connecting train. I ended up sharing a roomy 8-person cabin with one girl. I settled in comfortably to write this blog post – but not before accidentally dumping my water bottle on her.

Misadventures. They happen.