Bus #1: Frankfurt to Warsaw

I slept on my first actual, bona fide bus last night, and I don't think i was prepared. It started out all wrong, as I realized I didn't know exactly where the bus stop was. I eventually found it, but when I gave my ticket to the driver, I didn't know enough Polish or German or Russian to understand what I was supposed to do next. Eventually I followed this lady onto the bus and sat down somewhere unassuming. Thus began the next major problem. There was the number 38 written on a little piece of paper the driver gave me. I looked around desperately for seat numbers. If I took someone's seat, it would be all bad. I know in Latvia it doesn't matter which seat you take, but this seemed different. I couldn't find numbers, so I finally sat down, until some old guy looked down at something. It was the seat number, which meant not only that there were seat numbers, but that they were important. I found the right seat, but somebody was sitting there already. I have to admit I panicked. Either she had taken my seat and I was left in the abyss of seatlessness, or seats didn't matter. The bus finally took off and I was relieved for a moment. I knew that we would stop and some grisly Pole would wield a knife to force me out of the seat that was rightfully his at any moment. And I still wasn't sure if I was on the right bus or not. The driver played Johnny Mnemonic in Russian for us, and I tried to sleep. We stopped and sure enough I was ousted out of my seat by an unassuming German girl. I went to sit next to the guy that had been smacking his lips all night.

I had been expecting the bus to be filled with traveler types, but it was all either Germans going to Poland, or Poles coming from Germany, and they were all middle-aged or old.

Anyways so I had been expecting some sleep, but the DVDs kept on rolling until past midnight, when everyone simultaneously stopped talking. I managed to get my head comfortable, at the expense of my ribcage, but even then I drifted in and out of a sort of quasi-sleep. I kept switching positions.

At 3:40 in the morning someone said something, and then the whole bus took the cue and started talking and eating chips and cupcakes, and I was left without even a drop of water to dry my parched lips. At about 8 in the morning I could feel Warsaw in the distance. It couldn't be much farther now! My agony would soon end. Four hours later we were still driving along, and only after 19 hours on that painful bus could I get up and walk, and I don't know quite how my body managed it. I left my hat on the bus by accident but it was worth it.

On the bright side I like Warsaw so far.