An interesting day...

...in many ways.

I got on my coach from Padova at 8pm last night, after no less than two other coaches bound for Poland bamboozled me and 4 others into believing we were about to get a reprieve from the freezing Italian winter. Once the coach *did* turn up, it was jam packed full of people, all of whom were reluctant to let me or anyone else sit next to them and take away their precious bag-space. One woman grudgingly let me sit down beside her and then spent the next ten minutes huffing and puffing whenever I dared to so much as take off my coat/move a bag/breathe etc. I found it highly difficult to sleep on this journey due to the fact that I was in an aisle and unable to bed down against the window. It also didn't help that whenever I turned round to move my head and sort of sleep on my side, the woman actually spread herself wider over the seats and did her best to skewer my ribs with her elbows. Oh, well. I think I got about 3-4 hours altogether of broken sleep.

The coach stopped a lot, I lost count after a while but I think it stopped 5 times in total. The second two were very enjoyable. We stopped first of all at a restaurant and petrol station in the lower reaches of the mountains. After admiring the view and using the facilities we got back on the coach. There was a kind of stewardess woman, and she was so nice she even spoke English to me (and smiled at the same time - a rare skill once you get East of Germany). She asked everyone if we wanted breakfast - might as well, I thought. I was expecting a crappy bread roll or something to that effect, typical transport food. Nope. We stopped at a restaurant at what seemed like a ski lodge. There, I was presented with a MASSIVE bowl heaped high with a kind of soup - shredded cabbage, lumps of meat, sausage, onion, all in a really tasty broth with paprika. After studying menus and tourist guides here in more depth, I discovered that what I had for breakfast this morning is actually known as 'Hunter's Stew', and is apparently a bit like Marmite: you either love it or hate it. I loved it so much I could happily have eaten it for every other meal this week, but I guess that's not going to be easy so I'll settle for keping it as a recipe to keep me fed for a long time in cheap times once I get back home.

and the city...

So, yes. Krakow. As the bus pulled into the outskirts, my initial reaction was that it appeared to be a lot like Moscow, but a bit crappier in a Brezhnev era architecture sort of way. As I saw nothing but concrete, my heart sank. The stewardess claimed we were in the centre - it looked a bit like the stereotypical rubbish Eastern bloc-ness that in past experience doesn't actually exist. And luckily, once I was off the bus and started looking about, I found out that I was wrong.

The old town is full of small, cobbled streets and squares, not unlike the Italian streets I was walking yesterday or those of Tallinn, where I was the other week (I *will* write about Tallinn soon, I promise you). Street vendors sell pretzels and there are lots of Christmas lights hanging about at the moment. I walked for hours, upon the delicious crisp snow that is similar to the Italian stuff in that it is marginally less slippery than Russian snow, yet more like the Russian in that the second it's been stepped on by roughly 5 people or more, it turns into a big grey mass of gloop. And it soaked through my boots - my feet are not impressed.

Still, I saw the sights, went to a restaurant and enjoyed a big lump of pig meat smothered in herbs and spices with some roast potatoes (probably the last decent meal I'm going to have until I get back to Moscow and cook my pasta feast...assuming the cheese I bought doesn't turn into yukkyness). I then walked, walked and walked a little bit more until I was painfully aware of a prety large headache growing, which I've attributed to very little sleep since I left Hungary and my uncanny knack for forgetting to put my hat back on when I step outside of a building.

something odd...

...happened to me this afternoon, too. I was walking around hunting for a restaurant in my guidebook. Three people approached me, and began asking me where something was. I was about to pull my new trick of pretending to be Russian and a non-Polish (Italian/Magyar/German) speaker, when it occurred to me that they *were* Russian. And I'd understood them. And I was able to help them. In Russian. Bet of all - they actually understood me!

My plans for tomorrow involve visiting a place which I still haven't decided whether I really do want to go to yet. I'll let you know if I do.

I'll also be getting a train to Warsaw and then a bus from there to Riga, overnight. I shall treasure tonight's sleep in a real bed as tomorrow night I'll be on a coach again (though this time I *will* have a window seat, preferably at the back so I can nestle into the corner) and the following night I'll be in the 3rd class seating of an overnight train to Moscow. Again, I think I'll aim for a window seat...

Bef0re I go, I want to pose what for me is an eternal question:

Why do Eastern European countries, where it is a given that winter will bring snow, always insist on having steps and pavements made of marble??? It's the slipperiest substance known to man once there's a layer of frozen water on it. I know it looks nice, but for me that's not a good enough reason! Any other ideas?