I've had a half hour to myself before the madness begins and I genuinely meant to spend it recounting my tales of Gdansk and Warsaw, but I made the fatal error or having a quick look to see what was new on I Can Has Cheezburger? Those fucking lolcats are fierce distracting. I shall no doubt tell my tales in lurid technicolour detail some other time, when I'm at home and it's raining and nobody will come for midweek beers.
For the meantime though it will suffice to say that Gdansk was beautiful, and I'd liked to have spent longer there had we been in different accommodation (we ended up staying in a church out in the suburbs... don't ask). Plan ahead, folks. It was nice though, like a 2 night retreat punctuated by stressful bus journeys (I am mildly allergic to public transport, and intend to regale Sweary with tales of some of my more colourful journeys when I return). Those suburban buses hadn't a patch on yesterday's rail excursion though. Come back, Iarnrod Eireann, all is forgiven.
I've decided after only 3 days (4? 5? every day's like fucking Sunday) in Poland that I want to marry a Polish man and have his babies. They're so manly and handsome... (the men, not the babies. The babies are usually cute and Cabbage Patchish). Dublin and my sometime hometown of Naas are both chock full of Poles, so all I need do now is find out where they congregate of an evening, learn a few key phrases, and dress nice once in a while. Maybe I'll wear that bikini out some night. They're bound to fall at my feet.
For the meantime though it will suffice to say that Gdansk was beautiful, and I'd liked to have spent longer there had we been in different accommodation (we ended up staying in a church out in the suburbs... don't ask). Plan ahead, folks. It was nice though, like a 2 night retreat punctuated by stressful bus journeys (I am mildly allergic to public transport, and intend to regale Sweary with tales of some of my more colourful journeys when I return). Those suburban buses hadn't a patch on yesterday's rail excursion though. Come back, Iarnrod Eireann, all is forgiven.
I've decided after only 3 days (4? 5? every day's like fucking Sunday) in Poland that I want to marry a Polish man and have his babies. They're so manly and handsome... (the men, not the babies. The babies are usually cute and Cabbage Patchish). Dublin and my sometime hometown of Naas are both chock full of Poles, so all I need do now is find out where they congregate of an evening, learn a few key phrases, and dress nice once in a while. Maybe I'll wear that bikini out some night. They're bound to fall at my feet.
