What I did on my holidays by Constanze Age 22 & 3/4

*CAUTION* Long blog post alert, not for the faint hearted, or strong balooned.



I doth return! Alive and well and completely covered in insect bites. It seems the various moths and midges of Poland and Ukraine really enjoyed some fresh blood to have a go on, I now come in polka dot. Like a really itchy Mr Blobby. Aside from that my holiday was completely amazing and I am here to tell you the tale, the long beetroot filled story of how I love Eastern Europe far too much. The photo above shows the beautiful weather in which my plane set off in. Confusingly however by the time I got to Poland the weather had soared to ABSOLUTELY FUCKING BOILING HOT DEATH VALLEY DOOM TEMPERATURE. I have no idea how I survived the first day, but somehow I did through a combination of lurking in the shadows and copious amounts of mystery berry flavour ice cream.

But yes, at about half nine in the morning I stepped off the plane and onto the tarmac of the somewhat ugly Rzeszow airport. After miraculously getting through border security I got on a very steamy bus to the centre of town. I then stocked up on hot dogs and biscuits and got on a train to the charming town of Przemyśl where I got chatted up by a (very handsome) Ukrainian army medic. HAPPY. Once in Przemysl I visited the somewhat random Museum of Bells and Pipes. Surprisingly enough it contained a heck of a lot of bells and pipes. Never before have I seen so many bells and so many pipes in such a small space. There's also a pretty epic view from the top, you can see all the surrounding area with ease. But it was just so so so hot. After lying on a bench near a fountain for a while I decided that if I didn't continue my journey I might actually cook to death, hence my suitcase and I waddled off to a bus stop in a very obscure location.

... But of course, I am a little bit simple. I'm sat at said bus stop, admiring the view when all of a sudden a bus zooms past in the opposite direction. OH SHITBAGS. THIS IS POLAND. THEY DRIVE ON THE OTHER MOTHERFUCKING SIDE OF THE ROAD. So I run down the street waving my arms around like WW3 has broken out and luckily the driver stops for me. He soons works out that I'm from England and the whole bus laughs at me. Oh, the shame, how I love ruining my country's reputation abroad (I think?).

Then, while on this bus this lovely little old lady tried to help me on my journey. I already knew the stop I need to get off at to be able to walk across the border but she insists I need to get off at the one after. As she's wearing a pretty scarf I trust her and of course, it's the wrong stop and I'm in the middle of nowhere somewhere in rural Poland. I ask this guy for directions and he points and shouts vigorously in Polish but it soon becomes apparent that directions in a language you don't understand are somewhat hard to follow. So he gave me a lift (what a legend, I am aware that I broke every rule of being a single female traveller here, DON'T GET INTO A CAR WITH A STRANGE SLIGHTLY MAD LOOKING POLISH MAN KIDS) to the border in his little red car. The border crossing was remarkabley quiet and I passed through with relative ease. Just a lot of funny looks from the border guards, why the banana split is this green haired English girl wandering across the Ukrainian border on a Sunday afternoon etc. I made another friend here, a historian from Warsaw who was off to Kiev to collect some historical records. We got on a tiny marshrutka to Lviv (this was amazing, the bus was so full of luggage that it was at least waist height everywhere, no one was getting off in a hurry!). After being dropped off somewhere near the centre of the city it was just a short tram ride to my hotel where my friend was waiting. First stop was food, at the underground Ukrainian military bunker themed resuatrant. To get in you have to know the password which I of course shouted in a stupid foreign accent, I think the guy thought I was from Moscow or something. Then there was beer and food and a much needed sleep.



BORSCH



WEAPON

The next two days were spent with my Ukrainian friend going around ALL OF THE MUSEUMS IN LVIV and eating at such amazingly cool places at the Kerosene lamp restaurant and the Masochism restaurant (there's nothing more surprising that being stood in the queue for the toilet and having someone come up behind you and whip your bottom). The below photo is of me with the statue of Leopold von Sacher-Masoch, after which Masochism is named. You may have noticed that my hand is in his pocket, and in that pocket there is something quite perverse. But I'll leave that to your imagination ;)



And here I am looking all sweet next to a statue. See, I don't just hang out in places full of whips and handcuffs!



Then my friend left and I had to days by myself in Lviv (well, not really, I met with another couple of people in the evening to eat excessive amounts of cakes but the daytime was lonertime). I spent my days riding around on the old Soviet trams and visiting prisons and cemeteries. Actually, it was in the most famous cemetery in Lviv that I had my only slightly scary moment abroad... I was walking past a group of Ukrainian grave diggers and they saw my tattoo and started shouting that I was a part of the Russian mafia and making throad cutting gestures at me. Swearword. Luckily I soon convinced them that I (again) was just an English idiot and they backed off quite considerably. But yes, a tad scary. Oh Constanze, when will you stop causing gang warfare.

AMBULANCE!!!



In the cemetary shortly before becoming a Russian criminal.



But sadly it soon became time to leave Ukraine and get the night train back to Rzeszow (see photo below of my legs enjoying said journey). However, not even this went as smoothly as planned. I found my seat, sat back and relaxed, was soon joined by a really cool Ukrainian lady and Polish girl and the conversation flowed (well, as much as it can when there's a huge language barrier). All is good until we hit the Polish border (bear in mind this route is one of the most popular cigarette smuggling routes in the world). On come the border guards with their sniffer dogs and guns. And of course they stop at our compartment. And of course they lift up our seat. And of course there's a shitload of cigarettes hidden under there. And of course those cigarettes happen to be English. And of course I happen to be the only English person on the train. I get asked a couple of questions but they soon find the true culprit and remove him and the hundreds of packets of cigarettes he's managed to hide all over the train. So, plus ten million for me not going to prison for smuggling, woohoo!



Then once back in Poland I hung around Rzeszow and looked at some castles and drunk some more beer and ate some more soup. I also had a day trip to Krakow where I visited YET ANOTHER PHARMACY MUSEUM. I was the only one there and this guy gave me a private tour and showed me how all the machines worked and it was so amazing and oh my god drugs and mortars and jars and overenthusiatic partying I love museums I love drugs.



But for now I think that's it. I am very sleep and looking forward to a bath to soothe all my itchy bleedy bites. And eating something English. As much as I love meat and beetroot I NEED SOME PICKLED ONTION MONSTER MUNCH!!!

Bye bye,
A very very happy Constanze :) xXxXx

P.s There's this statue with a hat that you have to try and throw coins on for good luck. I missed every single one. SHIT.