So I managed to get on the train just fine and I was really surprised at how modern the polish trains were. Much better than even the trains back home! The carriages had “rooms" of four seats, each with their own charger for mobile phones and a control for air conditioning!
The train took something like 7 hours to get to Krakow. I assumed in had to change train as the ticket from Wroclaw to Krakow had a different train number to the Krakow to Przemysl route. It wasn't until I fell out of the train with the bike and cut my leg open that I realised I was to stay on the train.
I clambered back onto the train and got back into the seat I was in before. My leg grazed badly I had a strange thought, it didn't matter what happened to me or the bike, as long as I had my phone and wallet/cards I could get home. As I thought that I instinctively felt for my phone and wallet. Where was my wallet? No, seriously Martyn, where is your wallet with your cards?
I checked everywhere. At least five times. In the little four seated berth/cabin I was in I emptied my panniers and repacked making sure I hadn't dropped anything else.
My heart sank. Where had I put it? Had it fallen out my pocket when I fell out if the train? Had it been pick pocketed?
Only thing I could do was double check it wasn't back at the hostel. An email explaining my predicament was sent. Fair play to the staff at the hostel I was at, they messaged me back straight away. I didn't want to open the email. Just in case it read out my worst fears. And it kind of did, in a way.
I had left it under my pillow.
Seriously? So far on this trip I never left anything under my pillow. Too obvious. God only knows why I did it this time.
Back onto the internet I tried to suss out the best course of action. Should I get it sent by courier, by post? The woman back at the hostel told me to not even bother with the post, it would only go missing.
There was only one real/safe option. I would have to pick it up myself. Damn, I was already behind and spending more money than I should.. Thank God the railway tickets in Poland are dirt cheap.
Before I arrived at Przemysl station I already had the number/time of the train that I needed to catch. As soon as I was was off the train and packed up again, I went and got some money changed for tickets and accommodation.
I literally put the phone up against the window of the ticket booth and the woman laughed as she jotted down the trains I wanted. It was pretty simple really! I found the hotel soon after that (not before passing a Tesco 24hr supermarket - albeit a Polish equivalent of the one I worked in back home in Holyhead - I shuddered as I rode past, but wondered if my staff discount would still work, ha!)
I was able to stick my bike in the wine cellar of the hotel I stayed at, had a boiling hot shower and asked for a taxi to be booked to take me to the station before I got my head down for a few hours.
It hardly felt like I slept and before I knew it I was on my way to the station with only myself for a change.
0215 the train set off again. This would be a long weekend, and not the good kind.
There's not much to report about the train journey itself, only that I set alarms for when I needed to be awake for the connections.
I got into Wroclaw 1410 (ish) and I pegged it to the hostel. This would be cutting it fine as the train back was at 1455.
1420. I got to the hostel and an elderly lady who spoke no English only understood what I needed when I whipped the old translator app out. She rang someone and told me to wait 5 minutes.
1430. Still no sign of anyone helping me out. I was thinking I wouldn't make it back to the station in time. I showed the lady my train tickets and she freaked! She rang whoever again in a much more animated manner than before.
1432. A young woman (apparently the one I'd been emailing) burst through the main door, quickly ran to a draw, fiddled with a few keys before handing me an envelope with “Griffith" scrawled across it.
1434. I said my goodbyes and thanks as I was running down the stairs. As I got out, the traffic lights which on the way to the hostel went in my favour decided to go against me this time for that privilege.
1440. Wroclaw train station. I couldn't find my train on the board. Now I was panicking! I was looking for the number/time/destination, nothing.
1443. I was looking at the arrivals board. Idiot. I found the Departures board. My train was on the top, flashing. Platform 2.
* I would like to add here that in Poland, when they say platform, they mean platform. Unlike Britain, the platform number displayed generally means indicates track you will be using. In Poland a platform has two tracks and its down to you to make the wrong decision.
1448. Thank God, only one train on the platform. On I got, found my seat 5 carriages down and settled down as the train slowly made its way out of Wroclaw with a Welshman whose embarkation was such a close shave, father time himself wouldn't need to use a razor again for at least a millennia. It was so close, I expected the carriage to break out into spontaneous Mexican waves!
The rest of the journey doesn't even justify having anything written about it part from that it was an arduous 12hr journey back to the hotel.
I checked my pockets for my wallet and phone. This time round, I had both!
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