Being in transit is an interesting sensation. It's not quite like anything else - you've left where you're coming from but you've yet to get where you're going.
Yesterday morning I left Budapest, intending to spend 10 hours on trains getting to Krakow, just in time to eat some dinner and go to sleep. But that's not how things worked out. The first train I got on managed to get 20 minutes behind schedule, causing me to miss my next train. I was hustled by some railway employees into another train, taking me via 4 transfers and 7 hours to the destination of the train I had missed (which was not Krakow, by the way, but another transfer station).
At one transfer point there was an hour between trains, so we took the opportunity to ask at the information booth if there was a faster way to Krakow. Turns out there was - arriving at 5am the next day. At this point we were faced with a choice. Spend the night changing trains and waiting for hours in dark stations? Or take our chances finding a bed in an unknown border town and getting to Krakow later in the morning, potentially wasting half a day? Well, we decided to power through the night. Sleep a bit on the last train, which is a good 4 hours, then catch a few more hours at the hostel before starting the day.
I decided this would be an adventure. And it kind of was. We were on several old-school, local trains, looking at gorgeous landscapes and picturesque little towns, not to mention the perfect sunset that flooded the car with perfectly orange, glowing light that made everyone and everything look breathtakingly beautiful. Sitting in the train, watching the sun sink lower, feeling the breeze through the windows, finally refreshing and cool after a hot day - that was just perfect. And it didn't matter at all to me that we should have been in Krakow hours earlier.
We reached the stop from which we had to catch the train to Krakow (at 1am) and decided to while away a few of the waiting hours by getting dinner. As we exited the train, it hit me that I only had Hungarian money, and I had no idea what kind of money I needed. What country were we in? I knew we had passed for a long time through the Czech Republic - but had we made it to Poland? Turns out we had. It also turns out it's less disorienting than one might expect to not know which country you're in.
We walked around looking for food, and decided to sit outside at a place where a EuroCup game was showing (Portugal vs Netherlands, Portugal was up when we left), and it turned out to be a Thai restaurant - not what I would have expected my first meal in Poland to be, but it was delicious nonetheless.
Unfortunately the train car was quite full and the seats uncomfortable, but I slept anyways. And I don't regret it a all, because walking to the hostel from the train station at 5am was a lovely experience I otherwise wouldn't otherwise have had.
The streets were essentially deserted, except by the occasional shopkeeper spraying down the sidewalk or the few youths still out from the night before. And the pigeons, of course. Upon entering the main market square we were greeted by the most beautiful sight - the square was deserted and still in shadow, but St. Mary's church on the edge was bathed in rosy-colored morning light, and hundreds of swallows wheeled about in the air around the tower. It was so terrifically beautiful, I couldn't believe I was actually seeing it.
After a few hours of sleep in a real bed we were ready to start the day, and it was a marvelous end to our train adventure.
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