Early morning alarm, a quick breakfast, hot cocoa for the shivers, and off we went – a 5-hour train ride without seat reservations. The train left from Gdańsk almost empty, so we were able to find seats. However, a lot of people boarded in Poznań, and someone kicked us out of the seats we had found. Initially, we went to the dining car, but that was also full. We tried sitting on the floor, sipping cheap lemonade, but when someone almost spilled their beer on us, we retreated to the corridors. The only available space was next to the toilet, where drunk people from dining car were constantly coming. There was also one sketchy guy who went to smoke weed on the toilet. After an hour of standing there, we finally arrived. It was a sunny, albeit slightly cold, early October Sunday, and we reached Wrocław.
The main train station there is quite large, even by Polish standards, I believe. Coming from Slovakia, we are still not accustomed to train stations of this size. It was clean, offering refreshments in the form of mediocre coffee, fast-food chains, and, in the case of this particular station, pączki and pretzels. We had about 20 minutes until N arrived. We bought a pretzel sprinkled with poppy seeds, sat on a bench, and observed the hustle and bustle around us. There was a lot happening – people going about their daily lives, commuting, rushing, and hurrying. I wondered if any of them were truly present in the moment or if they all lived in their heads, dwelling on the past or the future. Digital ads played on billboards in the station, stuck in a loop with a shape very much resembling a swastika. A group of scouts was either returning from a vagabonding adventure or setting off on one. To be honest, I felt slightly jealous. It had been a long time since I put on a backpack and set off for the world, for the ever-present adventure and experience. I spent the last few years chasing the adult life and its securities, stability, and trying to find my place in the world. Often, I catch myself daydreaming about hitchhiking at some random petrol station in France, about vast forests that I can roam freely, or simply about a day without any obligations, without thinking about money or the future…
One thing caught my eye and left me disturbed. It was a group of older Asian men walking toward one of the side exits, with one of them holding a young Polish woman by her arm. She didn’t seem particularly happy. I got up and went after them to see if everything was alright. I don’t know what I was thinking. If there was something wrong, they could beat me up without batting an eye, and I was fully aware of that, yet I felt a strong urge to go anyway. I found out that the exit split – left to the toilets and right to the underground garage. The odd group was nowhere to be found. I gave up on looking for them after a while. Hopefully, the woman just got up on the wrong side of the bed, and nothing worse was going on. I returned to F, and we waited until N’s train arrived. We greeted him with a grin, pointing at the swastika billboards.
All three of us were exhausted. We had to leave early in the morning, and we hadn’t slept for too long either. N played a gig with his band the night before, while F and I binge-watched the last season of “What We Do In The Shadows.” Worth every minute. As I mentioned earlier, we didn’t sit properly for most of the train ride, and N had problems catching his connections. That’s why all three of us couldn’t wait for a well-deserved afternoon nap.
We shared a room in a small hostel on Russian Street. It wasn’t particularly impressive, but it was sufficient. It was fairly dirty, but our exhaustion took precedence over the filth, so we gave in. After checking in, we all settled into our beds and opened the windows to refresh the stale air. We needed rest.
A few minutes into our attempted slumber, someone played bad Polish rap in the street – loudly. After a moment of silence, another masterpiece followed. This went on for quite some time, with each subsequent track worse than the previous one – rap, Polish remakes of club music, electro, cheap techno… You name it, they played it.
“We are on Russian Street, so it kind of makes sense…” uttered F.
When we looked out of the window, there was a group of gopniks with a very big Bluetooth speaker, standing next to a homeless person in a wheelchair. They were doing just about what you’d imagine. Nothing in particular, just being and enjoying the streets or whatever. Enjoying the music, for sure. It was bizarre. It was exactly what one could expect on Russian Street.
The next day, we set out to explore the city. Although it’s beautiful, there’s not much to be said about it. If I’m being honest, the things I remember are Gothic cathedrals, a menacing river, and a cool medieval square full of baskers of various quality. And, of course, people with blue hair. They were everywhere. Well, there were a lot more of them than in other cities, and there were not too many other “abnormal” hair colors. Finally, there were a lot of McDonald’s. One restaurant every 500 meters or so.
The sole reason why we were there was to see a concert of Alcest. The band accompanied me and N through our adolescence and into adulthood. We shed countless tears to this music. It was the first time that we were to see them live. The concert took place in an old monastery, and I can’t imagine a better place.
Before the concert, we stopped by a local Apple store. My laptop screen broke recently, and I needed to get it fixed. We arrived there half an hour before they closed, as the shop was literally across the street from the venue. I went to the counter, N with F were waiting on a couch in the front of the store, next to the door. I was explaining the issue to the salesman when another person came in. It was a guy in a cap, and the salesman greeted him, slightly annoyed. I bet he already wanted to go home.
The figure didn’t greet him back and went straight to the stand with iPhones. When he picked up one of them, the salesman stormed from behind the counter.
“Put it back,” he said. “Put it back!”
“Get lost!” the hooded man said, oddly calm, and took out a yellow snap-off cutter knife from his pockets. He waved it in the air a few times and proceeded to cut the cords that held two of the phones in place. The salesman called on his colleague who was working in the back, but neither of them bothered to stop the thief. I totally understand that. I wouldn’t want to get my throat slit for two iPhones either. I noticed that N and F ran out of the store, and a few seconds after that, the guy ran out as well.
The alarm in the shop was screaming. One of the salesmen called the police, and the other one called their boss. I picked up my phone and called my friends to see if they were okay. They returned to the shop, shaken but unharmed. I asked the guy behind the counter if thieves come there often. He said this was the first time.
Since I watched this whole situation from the counter, I couldn’t quite grasp what happened until a few hours later. Afterwards, I realized that the salesman was shaking and barely controlling himself after facing the yellow cutter knife. Also, I realized that N and F were so close to the whole affair that they could’ve easily ended up as unintended victims. It was surreal. Bizarre. Imagine going to a random Apple store in a random Polish city and experiencing the first armed robbery ever to happen there.
We finally arrived at the venue, which was getting crowded. We managed to wait through the first band. It wasn’t really our cup of coffee. When they finished, people dispersed a little, and we got better places closer to the stage. Then we waited some more.
I was in bliss when Alcest got on the stage and started playing. And I can say the crowd shared those feelings as well. The music that Alcest plays is different from anything that I heard before, or after. It always resonates with me, and hearing them live for the first time was something special. First, they played the whole Écailles de Lune album. Ending it with Sur l’océan couleur de fer, I shed a few tears. A guy next to me shed a few more. After that, they played songs from other albums, and to be honest, I was getting a little bored towards the end. I’m no fan of long concerts, and they surpassed my limits by one or two songs. But to each their own. The crowd enjoyed it, and who am I to judge?
After the concert, we grabbed a quick dinner in McDonald’s and went back to the hostel. This was just enough for one day, and maybe even a bit too much. In the morning, we had to catch early trains, again. A quick Costa coffee (God bless train stations equipped with useful services), pistachio pączki, and 7 hours on the train. This time with allocated seats. Yay.