Hi Friends,
I did a lot of travelling when I was in my 20s and I kept diaries for many years. Now, in my 40s, I am able to publish these diary travelogues on the blockchain and it's great fun revisiting the past in this manner and sharing my journeys. I previously posted a 5-part series on backpacking around the Middle-East in 1996.
What I'd like to present here is another series of travelogues, this time from my 1994 travels through Eastern Europe: Poland - Belarus - Russia - Estonia - Latvia - Lithuania - Poland.
I dedicate these writings to LMK. I started reading them aloud to you once but we didn't get very far. May you find pleasure and enjoyment this time round 💚.
I was 22 years old at the time, and had been working in Heidelberg, Germany that summer in order to save money for travel and for the following academic year in Scotland. My mode of transport varied between hitch-hiking, buses and trains. I travelled light with just a rucksack and few belongings. I do not have any photographs of my own as I did not carry a camera. However the web provides and I still have some artefacts which I can photograph and present. Instead of intervening in the narrative with present-day thoughts, I have added footnotes for clarification where required.
I left my main 1994 diary and some other items with a friend in Heidelberg and took a small notebook with me. I hitched to Munich to visit a friend and there I purchased an English translation of Crime & Punishment by Fyodor Dostoevsky. This book became a fascinating travelling companion, all the more so when I was in Russia and St. Petersburg, where it is set.
I'm not entirely sure why I chose to go East, perhaps some deep impulse for a sense of orientation? There was the fascination of going behind the Iron Curtain of course, and, as you will see, I had become disillusioned with Capitalist Western Europe and wanted to get away for a while. It was a journey I am glad to have made!
The narrative picks up as I hitch North-East from Nürnberg on Sunday 28 August, 1994.
Sunday, 28 August 1994 | 23.45 | Wrocław (Poland)
Hitched around 650 km from Nürnberg and was surprised - well relieved, to feel myself free on leaving Western Europe behind. I jumped the train – the TC1 was really nice and friendly (actually I've met nice and friendly people all day). I did my usual spiel of no German, just made the train with no time to buy a ticket2. I pointed stupidly to the motorway on the map and he saw that it was only one stop and didn't charge me. I walked 3 km or so to the service station, getting there around 9.30 am. I then got a long 350 km lift to near Dresden with Fabian, a 23-year old medical student from Munich, studying in Berlin and on his way there after stopping in Dresden to see a friend. He told me that he had earlier thought of becoming a priest. Unlike a lot of German students I've met, he wasn't pretentious. I got on very well with him and the three hours passed quickly. We were well into the ex-DDR3 by then and had the impression (later accentuated in Poland) that the people are outdoing themselves to copy the West, and of Socialism as a grand experiment gone wrong and perhaps never to be repeated! Capitalism is too easy an option, well sold to the disappointed Eastern Block. Anyhow, I phoned Dom – he'll be in St. Petersberg from the 10th of September and will send his address post restante to Moscow.
Then a great lift, funnily enough with people I got on very well with and who are in the religious business! A group of six Poles (1 man, 2 women and 3 x 18 year old girls) who had been on some kind of ecclesiastic work camp near Erfurt for a couple of weeks. At first they said they had no room, but the man then called me back and said I could sit in the rear of the van. I was chuffed. The girls were sitting in front of me in the back seat. One of them spoke German, another spoke some English and the third, the prettiest with very beautiful hands, spoke a smattering of both.
We got to the border (I hid my ganja in a sock) and we had to wait in queue for 20 minutes during which I walked with Agatha, who spoke German. She invited me to her town where she said she'd show me around and introduce me to her brother. No problem at the border and I managed to get a stamp in my passport.
I got increasing pleasure from then onwards – being in Poland, sitting in the rear with the pretty girls; laughing, joking and talking. Around 5 km short of their home we ran out of petrol and spent a few minutes starting and stopping to the petrol pump which was 1.5 km away. Hugged and kissed them goodbye. Left 15 DM4 for petrol, which I know is a fair amount of money. They earn 90DM + food + accommodation for a week's work.
On the way to Wrocław (which I had picked as the next large town) with my thumb out, I was joined by a lad who had been trying to hitch with vigorous up and down movements, just 20 metres away from me. A lorry with a very easy-going driver going to near Kraków, slowed down and we got in. The lad, Pshmek, turned out to speak a tiny bit of English and German (the driver knew a few words of German) and to be only 13 years old. He was on his way to a nearby town to (apparently) clean windows. He was plump, tall for his age, with shoulder-length hair. I liked him a lot and we wished each other genuine good luck.
Got off near Wrocław and another lift to a student hostel in town with someone who had a horror of Russia and the Mafia – a friend of his disappeared a year ago! The hostel was full up, but another great guy – Gdapa, offered to take me to a cheap place nearby - 60,000 złoty5 per night (DM 4.20). He is from Zimbabwae and studying management here. Left my stuff in the room which he lent me the money to pay for, then to the train station to exchange money and eat. We had a pizza, beer and a nice chat. Everything is a bit cheaper than Western Europe – nice to get away from the shiny, immaculate roads and facades. We are meeting for a coffee tomorrow and he showed me the way back. Showered, washed a shirt and smoked a joint.
1. Ticket Collector
2. Yup, admit it, I used to find creative ways of avoiding train fares 😎 (more so in Western Europe and UK where tickets were expensive).
3. Deutsche Demokratik Republik, or DDR - the name of former East Germany. Reunification took place in 1990.
4. Deutsch Mark, currency of Germany before adoption of the Euro.
5. At the time 1 DM = 14,000 złoty and $1 USD = 22,000 złoty
Monday, 29 August 1994 | 23.11 | Częstochowa (Poland)
A word about the places I spent last night in and shall spend tonight in. Essentially Student Accommodation, vacated for the summer holidays and run as cheap hostels. Such was the one Gdapa showed me to yesterday. He didn't show up at 11.30 as he said, so at noon I checked out and went to the station.
Decided to get a train somewhere in the Warsaw direction and then hitch. Settled on Częstochowa, 190 km East of Wrocław. Paid 103,500 złoty and enjoyed the 2 hour 45 minute ride immensely. Had a small joint on the way and delighted in leaning out of the window, watching the countryside, woods etc roll by; immersing myself in the sensation of going further and further East. I am conscious of the fact that I am priviledged i.e. that I have, relatively speaking, a lot of money, and at times this verges on guilt. A lad my age approached me at the station, repeating his plea in English (couldn't understand the Polish, obviously) for some money for his train journey home. It was 15,000 złoty. Until the end I couldn't feel 100% sure of his authenticity, but it's not a lot of money and he might well have a genuine need, so I gave him the 15,000. Later a ticket collector under-changed me by 1000 złoty. I could have argued on the principal of not letting myself be cheated, but I realized it wasn't malicious and, from a more socialist point of view, he almost has a right to it! Perhaps it won me an enjoyable train ride, what the fuck, I've been helped so often!
Got off the train and had to make a fairly roundabout way to the Hotel Studenski that I asked for directions to. On the way I met Jack – a 30 odd year old Pole who offered himself as an English speaker and took me to two hostels. The first couldn't take me, but the second one did. 90,000 złoty she said, then when I went to pay, asked if I really wanted a receipt. When I said no, she brought it down to 50,000 złoty. Last nght I had to share the room but tonight I'm on my own. It is a block of flats-type building - corridors with rooms on either side, lots of bathrooms and a kitchen.
I asked Jack if he'd like to come for a drink and we walked into town. At first I felt that it might be difficult to tell him when I wanted to be on my own and I wondered if the time might drag by with my 'camera assistant' guide. But after walking up and down and talking about Poland and religion and Częstochowa's religious significance, my attitude relaxed. The Pope1 apparently comes from here and we walked around an enormous shrine with a fortress. Religion seems to have a continued attraction, more noticeably amongst the youth, many of whom I saw praying.
The talk over coffee got more interesting. He talked a bit of what Poland was like 10 years ago – mostly the appearance of the place rather than personal sentiments which I had in vain tried to get him to talk about. I discovered that he has been studying Egyptology for the past 2 years and he showed me some of the hieroglyphic structures. He also taught me a few Polish phrases and I talked about the Indian languages and the Ashoka pillars. He is quite a small chap - moustache and a faded look emphasized by a worn face and receeding hairline. Well informed, although I got the impression (when he requested a room for me he talked of the celebrities his job brought him into contact with) that he was eager to please – not obsequious, but kind of over-polite. I got on well enough with him though. Said goodbye, ate something and returned to smoke a joint. Will hitch to Warsaw tomorrow – have to see about Russian and Belarus visas.
I'm now having another smoke (am ok on rations!) and thought again of how it is being on one's own – responsible for myself in unknown territory where I know no one. It's been satisfactory so far, I've met nice people and it's a pleasant change from Western Europe.
1. Pope John Paul II (1920 – 2005)
Tuesday, 30 August 1994 | 20.30 | Warsaw (Poland)
I hitched up to Warsaw successfully. It was pleasant and I stopped for a joint around halfway, near Łódź. I'm sitting in Pizza Hut, about to eat a meal that will cost around 100,000 złoty, about a fifth of what it would cost in Britain!
The Polish girls are on the whole gorgeous, they really are! I've forgotten what I wanted to say – something about the effects of the free-market reminding me of India! The streets leading up to the centre of town are packed with 100s and 1000s of signs offering whatever it is for sale, everyone wanting a share. Passed lots and lots of people by the roadside selling mushrooms, some apples or vegetables. Thing is that even though eating out may be far cheaper than in the West, the technology ie computers etc, seems much the same.
I love the trams in Warsaw. They zip along on their exclusive paths, not bothered about the traffic they leave behind. There are lots of them too – the view of tramlines criss-crossing the street still fascinates me. Yesterday on the train I was in the foremost carriage and noticed something I thought very considerate. The driver would hoot every time we approached a level crossing – the rural Poles aren't as Teutonic about these things and cross over irrespective of approaching trains.
Funny – at the main station Tourist Information office in Warsaw, they told me of a hotel at 85,000 złoty but 30 minutes out of town; this was the only cheap hotel they recommended and they told me that there were no youth hostels. I asked someone if he spoke English and when he saw the name of the hotel I'd been given, he told me that he had stayed there once. He said he wasn't from Warsaw and that the hotel was a lousy trap, where mostly Russian tourists who didn't know better were sent. He suggested I buy a map and took me to where I could. The hotel he recommended was the International Youth Hostel, 92,000 złoty in a 6-bed room.
Met two Italian students, also 22 years old, who couldn't get into Russia because their passports expired in a month. They were about to go into the army and we got on fairly well. I gave one of the Weaveworld to read – a relief, for the book is heavy to cart around. Point is Russia refused them a visa because their passports had only a month to go, but getting the visa would have taken them 5 days! This means I might have to hang around as I have to get a Belarus and Ukranian visa as well. Getting close isn't it? If I have to wait, I might go up to Gdańsk, where Günter Grass is from and also Copernicus (nearby). It is supposed to be very beautiful around there. I'd also like to get an International Student ID Card – my one missing accessory – for it gets me a 50% reduction on train travel. Could also go to Lithuania as I don't need a visa!
Now what? I've finished my meal, which was ok. Need to be up early to tackle the Russians. $16 USD they are going to charge for the priviledge of having my throat slit in Moscow! I'll go for a wee walk and a smoke, plenty of time to meet the city tomorrow and I'm not really bothered about it.
At the youth hostel for some reason she gave me in change the same 100,000 złoty note I had given her. In Western Europe I would have probably not said anything, but here, where there is a greater need of money, I couldn't bring myself to, so I returned it to her.
Wednesday, 31 August 1994 | time ?? | Warsaw (Poland)
At times here in Poland when I'm feeling happy/light/full of potential, I notice sad faces – and there are lots of them, worn through with disappointment or war. I gave a Yugoslavian victim, originally from India and with an amputated leg, the equivalent of 1DM. It's not sadness or hardship that my pleasure is derived from, but a combination of feeling free and amongst people who don't take what they have for granted, although capitalist tendencies are strong. I was also thinking how cold and insular English-speaking people (especially girls) are – so distrustful when abroad!
