There is one immutable law of the universe—never travel for a girl. It will always fuck up, one way or another.
Not that I would ever travel solely for a girl these days (unless I as in a relationship with her). There’s simply no need. Since I work online, and I can work from anywhere on the planet, then I may just as well be in one city as another. And it’s useful to have variety.
I came to Warsaw to catch up with a few friends, record some video and a podcast (more on that soon), and to scope out the city to try and figure out if I could live here.
I also partly came to see a girl.
She flaked.
No shit Sherlock.
Digital Nomad
Since I jumped on the digital nomad train in 2017 I’ve done a lot of the ‘digital’ bit, but have been less of a nomad.
To be precise, I’ve spent most of my time in London with a few brief sojourns in Berlin.
But with summer on its way, and the Brexit meltdown in the UK becoming too boring for words, I’m always keeping an eye out for places I could decamp to for a period of time.
Warsaw might be one. It’s an extremely well-connected, modern city with nightlife and a bit of a red-light area (always a plus).
There are also a hell of a lot of cute girls here.
I haven’t ended up doing a lot of game per se, but if the IOIs are anything to go by this could be a fruitful place for me to lay my hat for some months.
But could it ever outweigh my love for Budapest? (Which is undoubtedly the more beautiful city)
Probably not.
Plus, I also have my Russian visa now.
So let’s see.
A Taxi Ride to the Mall
I took an Uber to the mall.
Well, I never learned to drive, so I take taxis everywhere.
The guy who finally picked me up (after several Uber drivers flaked on me, which seems to happen more and more often these days) had salt-and-pepper receding hair. He was jolly and keen to talk. He said it was cool that I was from London. When I averred that it was very cold in Warsaw today he agreed with me enthusiastically.
We sat in silence after that. As well as not driving I also don’t speak any other languages apart from English. And certainly not Polish.
While we drove I wondered how many taxi drivers I’ve had over 25 years.
All those faceless, nameless companions I sat beside for brief journeys around London,Manchester, New York, Berlin, Ibiza, Moscow.
Chasing whatever glittery fantasy was in my mind.
So many, and each like Charon, the ferryman of Hades.
A Malodorous Man
I sat in the glittering Arkadia mall just outside Warsaw, drinking a fruit tea.
On a table near to m, just beyond the door and positioned on the mall walkway, sat a malodorous man. His hair was straggly, and what remained was greasy. His clothes were ragged. He pushed a shopping trolley filled with paper bags and plastic bags that contained god knows what.
His face was red, and held an expression that blended aggression with a necessary obsequiousness.
A security guard noticed the guy, came over and started talking to him. Telling him to move on, no doubt. To stop spoiling the shiny shopping centre, with all its shiny stores.
The malodorous man didn’t move. So the guard made a call on his walkie-talkie. Soon he was joined by another security guard. Now both of them put black rubber gloves on, presumably making ready to move the man by force, but wanting to avoid being contaminated by him.
There was a mild confrontation, but the man moved on quietly enough. No need for force. Nothing to see here. Soon, he had gone, and it was as though he’d never marred the glossy interior of the Arkadia Mall.
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