I TRAVEL ALONE
Anyone know who wrote that song?
While SAS was getting his ASS frozen to death in Poznan or whatever shithole he was in, I dragged my fat jolliness to Gdansk, Sopot, and Gdynia, otherwise known as the tri-cities. These three contiguous cities chill out on the comfy coast of the Baltic Sea. A lot of tourists come here, but only in the summer when the coast isn't frozen solid, like my soul.
I had big plans for the tri-cities, but then this MF got all up in my grill:
One of the main reasons I went to Gdansk was to explore a nearby National Park onsisting of sand dunes and Nazi rocket installations. Unfortunately, walking on a snowy beach in the freezing cold is an experience that ranks up there with having rusty nails driven up your urethra while listening to the Macarena. I known these things because I used to live in Chicago (aka Little Poland).
Luckily, Gdansk had plenty more to offer. Like this Polish tradition: old towns reconstructed after they were destroyed in WW2.
And check out this guy:
He's just like an American snowman, except he can pronounce, "Wrzeszcz."
What else does Gdansk have to offer? Why, the Lenin Shipyards! This is where Solidarity started, and is a generally rock and roll place. A place that's almost completely deserted now. The government has slowly been shutting it down for about 10 years now, and it's only a matter of time before it becomes shopping malls and condos. Fucker was apparently never profitable, but the communists never cared about profit. Here's some industrial pornography:
That's the entrance to the museum, which was closed. Luckily, I had an inside line because my host Mommy worked on the shipyard property. Score one for stupid Americans!
These are the people I stayed with. That's Kasia, her younger sister Asia, and, well, Mama. I think I got at least 2 of those names wrong.
They fed me well, gave me a nice place to sleep, showed me around, and were generally awesome. I met Daddy briefly, but I don't think he liked me very much. Our conversation went something like this:
ME: Nice to meet you.
DAD: I suppose.
None of them could understand why I possibly wanted to see the shipyards, even after I explained to them that I enjoyed derelict buildings (see the Woodge entry below). Nevertheless, they cruised me around and even let me wander around by myself for awhile. They also warned me I might get arrested, but nothing that awesome happened. But I did find this:
Roofs are for losers. This was some broke ass building I walked into. It's not in use anymore, except maybe a colony of bums with very low standards of living.
Later that night we went to Sopot, which was very nice and very dark. Only one picture came out, and it really didn't come out. But I think it's kind of metal.
It was probably -10 F when we saw these swans, chilling in the Baltic Sea. I don't know how they were alive.
Sopot is where all the Polish celebrities go to be seen. Yeah, there are Polish celebrities. That was news to me too.
Lastly, Gdynia. Gdynia is the kind of place that sells postcards that don't have pictures of the city on them. This is what happens when Socialist Realism meets religion:
The rest of the city was so ugly that my camera refused to work. But all was not lost, Gdynia did give me a chance to sample a Polish delicacy: Tripe soup.
Oh, and I just want to give a big FU to my bro God. Right as I was standing at the train station waiting to leave the Tri-cities, the weather finally got nice. Fuck.