2nd Dec '08 - Zakapane Stars

The bearers of the "pojke" signs at Zakapane train station didn't get too much of my attention. I'm used to walking away from those reception areas when in Asia. I regretted this, because the hostel I walked to was shut. Around the streets again, in the fine fecund rain, and my weighty old clothes making my pack sore. The old vagabond me. A thin brown haired woman in tight jeans responded to my query of where I might find a hostel, with pointing me in the direction of the Panorama Hotel. "Up by the blue lights on the slope a little." She phoned them and I trudged on. The receptionist barely spoke with me. She took my passport and gave me a key, wrote down the price and the time for breakfast, and rushed off. I went to follow but then realized no... I was to find my own way... or was she about to come back... After some pausing I climbed the stairs, passed some friendly young Polish guys who after my "Hi" asked me what I was looking for. "My room", I replied with a sarcastic smile.

Out in the rain I found a small supermarket and bought crisps, chocolate wafer and water. Sickened by the food I went in for some more grease at MacDonald's on the main paved street. A guy came in asking for money or food, in Polish. After he'd sat with me a while I offered the remains of my fries. He turned them down. My impression was that he wanted fresh, untouched food, or just wanted money for drink. A guy on a table a little way off ordered some food and gave it to him. The beggar said something to me but I kept my eyes on the TV screen hung from the roof. I thought it was a rebuke from him.

I'm quite hardened. How can I draw a line of where I should start or stop charity? If I'm going to give shouldn't I give everything away that's superfluous? Don't travel. Work, eat, sleep and give the rest away. Because I'm not doing that guess I'm quite the conservative. This is old hat talk anyway. I hope my giving will start one day. Wealth creates wealth. Clearly better to give from such a standing, rather than to create one's own poverty too, I justified.

I had a pint in two different bars. There weren't many people about. Lonesome. In the second one a drunk woman spoke to me in English. She'd been in London eight years ago. Did I want to buy her a shot so that she could continue speaking English with me? I sputtered some some words of "I'm only finishing this pint and then going" and in my embarrassment was strengthened to further say no when I looked up to see the friendly faced female bar tender shaking her head slowly. When the woman who called herself a clown left, after telling me to try different Polish drinks, including honeyed tea and that she'd be back at 7pm tomorrow, the others laughed together and the woman behind the bar said, "Now you know everything about Poland". I laughed with her and the other three people in this tiny kitchen sized bar, including the woman who moved to sit away from where I'd taken my place. I guess she didn't want to be seen sitting next to a single man or was just being utterly honest about not wanting male attention. I respected that. I listened to the music wired from an MP3 player to the speakers and drank my medicine in silence, looking at the glimmering glasses and alcohol bottles that became art for me in their little alcoves and me in mine, trying to break out.

Six in the morning and I haven't slept apart from the two hours between 12 and 2am. Bearing up under the onslaught of negative thoughts. One thing I know... my passion and love for China and Thailand and the other oriental countries I plan to visit is strong. Beautiful people, fiery food, vehement vistas. It's where my hearts at when I work in England and even now during this pain inflicting holiday, which will add to me.

I looked at the stars over the last hours and saw familiar Orion and recognizable patterns. They comforted me...