The pre-booked taxi was waiting for me at 00.10, the Bus Station is located on the ground floor of the Fabryczna complex which includes the new main train station, as yet unused…something to do with an incomplete tunnel linking Widzew and Kaliska, the other two train stations. Quite a building with all sorts of looping slip-roads, the driver dropped me off at a grand entrance and directed me downstairs. He did me no favours, eventually I found the bus stance.
Stand 19, about eight of us were were waiting for the 00.45 to Poznan. Monitoring the bus on the FlixBus app, I could see it was on time, in fact it arrived by 00.35, plenty of time to get everyone on board.
Allocated seat 4D, it was occupied, the Bus Doris shifted two chaps, I had two seats, for how long? We stopped on the outskirts of Lodz and picked up a few more, the bus was remarkably quiet and remained so.
Hector never sleeps on public transport except when two stops from home. Dozing, the best achieved since an overnight bus from London to Glasgow back in 1984. The seats tilted quite a way back, still no luck. I resorted to calming music of my own choice on the Huwaei, Pendrgon’s latest – Love over Fear.
A three hour bus journey before a three hour layover, how long is three hours? How long is six hours? How cold would it be? Below zero was forecast, would there be shelter, warmth, in Poznan?
There are some very straight sections of motorway in Polska, a relatively comfortable journey, arriving in Poznan on time. I recognised the final section of the journey having trodden those streets. Hector is due back here in May, another night at Piwna Stopa.
The waiting room was open, the board showed the 06.50 bus to Berlin. It was way too early for the app to show the inbound. Some thirty people occupied some thirty seats. I could have forced my way in, not sensible, keep one’s space. A very loud Doris had issues with I don’t know who. The inside door led to the northern end of the Avenida shopping mall which incorporates Poznan Glowny. Nothing was due to open before 05.00, nothing would open, Polska – #lockdown.
I chose my spot, floorspace opposite a chap who was well on, and nearly out of it. I had plenty of battery backup but decided upon no more music. News alternated with social media and trying to track the incoming bus. Suppose it doesn’t show, a taxi to Frankfurt (Oder)? I have a taxi driver in Poznan, would Jan take me? If desperate I could contact Szymon (Piwna Stopa). The Deutsch Bahn app suggested a tortuous number of afternoon trains from Wroclaw, I would not be leaving Poznan then until nearer 09.00 for a twelve hour journey. This was why I allowed myself two days to get to Berlin.
I fell asleep, for maybe ten minutes around 05.00. Security had woken up the inebriate and moved him on, only we had chosen the floor. They decided to have a word, my reply in English was unexpected, I was left alone. Two ladies had their luggage occupy seats whilst they stood throughout the wait. The loud Doris had gone, an earlier bus. I could have taken a seat, the floorspace was my spot.
At 06.30 our collective had grown to approaching one hundred, not all for Berlin, hopefully. The FlixBus app showed no sign of the incoming, the Berlin bus was no longer on the board. I went out to the stand originally posted, around forty people were waiting. The sun was up, but low in the sky, in our eyes as we looked to the entrance to the bus station. A passing chap cheered us all up, our bus hadn’t shown yesterday. A chap with a pukka English accent found the FlixBus number, the bus was coming, in five minutes.
Twenty minutes later, the same message. And again. Someone said they had a message from FlixBus, – bus delayed. Ditto for Hector. Why tell lies? Why sell tickets for a bus they knew would not run? FlixBus no more.
I had studied those with whom I stood. Standing beside the English sounding chap, I suggested a taxi to Frankfurt. It was pointed out that a Polish driver, any driver, would be quarantined for fourteen days on the return. Slubice was mentioned, I thought Frankfurt straddled the border, it doesn’t. An Irish lady had the Uber app and a quote, under 600zl. I immediately offered a quarter share in cash. I spotted the taxi, over I went accompanied by Debbie and Steve from Ireland, Konrad the pukka chap who was of Polish descent and fluent in both languages, handy. The young taxi driver spoke to who knows who for ten minutes, another car was going to take us, eventually we piled into his small Toyota.
1980, El-Arish to Suez, 2010 Sharm El-Sheikh to Taba crossing the border to Eilat, Hector has used long distance taxi rides as a solution before.
How featureless is western Polska? Ninety minutes plus in a taxi to Slubice, we were dropped off at the roundabout nearest the bridge.
The Bridge of Tries
Last year, Steve and Hector went to Potsdam and crossed – The Bridge of Spies. That was history, this was now. The Polish side of the bridge was blocked, we knew not what awaited across the River Oder.
Tents, chaps in biohazard suits, ambulances, border police, Schengen no more. We were waived through, no checks. Taxis pulled up, returnee Poles, we walked across the bridge purposefully. The Deutsche Grenzen never looked so good, our escape, into East Germany!
Google Maps took us to the Bahnhof, Hector was back on home territory and purchased the group ticket. One hour and ten minutes to Alexanderplatz. I had asked for a noon check-in at the Mercure. At 12.10, Zzzzzz.
Mid afternoon it was Curry o’clock. Taking no chances I went back to Swera, success.
In recent Berlin visits I have had lighter Bier at Augustiner am Gendarmenmarkt before heading for the good stuff of an evening. I have never seen the place so quiet. Attempting to take a seat at the bar, I was led to a table mid room. The police have declared a fixed distance between customers, though groups can sit together.
I started with a Helles before going on to the Edelstoff. One or two more was predicted. I phoned Bräugier, no reply just after their 17.00 opening time. Eventually I got through to Brian, Mein Host recognised me on the phone. Bars are closed in Berlin, restaurants can remain open, a request, not a directive.
Having already closed the southern borders facing Italia, as of tomorrow at 08.00, the remaining Deutsche Grenzen close. Will this include flights, trains, a la Polska?
Faced with the possibility of having to escape from Deutschland, I looked up the possibilities. ICE Train to Brussel, seats available, onward by Eurostar, £300.00 approximately. I alerted Lord Clive and Lady Maggie of Crawley that refuge may be sought. Suppose the Inter City trains are cancelled? I consulted a well known train enthusiast – which German town has the closest/shortest border crossing into Belgium such that I can use local transport on both sides of the border? Strangely, that question received no answer, the scenario that had never been considered before. If barred from moving at all, I present myself at the British Consulate in Berlin – #gethehectorhome.
More Edelstoff. Was I last out of Augustiner?
Three hours on a bus, three hours on a bus station floor, not the best six hours I have ever spent. The six hours at Augustiner were way better.
back to – Day #3 of how many in Polska?