Kraków– Have you seen my USB?

Previously: the ultimate Australian bogans were schooled in the differences between nightclubs and death camps, I discovered that I can shot vodka, and a Javier Bardem-lookalike rapidly became less like the Spanish heartthrob, and more like the psychopathic hitman he played in‘No Country For Old Men’.

As became habitual in this hostel, I woke up feeling like I was in the tropics - only this time a beach as, coupled with the sweat, I was covered in what felt like sand. The sweat was, of course, courtesy of the "bread sauna" masquerading as our dorm, but the gritty substance covering my body was courtesy of the remnants of the giant packet of biscuits I had devoured when I collapsed into bed hours before. I didn’t actually remember this, but Kaitlyn informed me that, after being essentially carried to bed by Ned, I made him rummage around my shell because, ‘I simply cannot even contemplate slumber until I have eaten some biscuits’. At least I am an articulate drunk. It was quite late when we awoke and, by the time I had washed the biscuit beach from my bruised body, breakfast would have been well and truly picked-over, so we decided to cut our losses and hit up the supermarché.

Having not had to pay for food since arriving in Kraków (with the exception of the early-morning kebab), we quickly discovered that, while the local grocery stores are resplendent with grog, unless cured meats are your thing, they’re not awash with food. So we decided to embark on the semi-ambitious trek to hit up the Carrefour. If you aren’t familiar with Carrefour, I feel sorry for you. They’re a chain of hypermarkets across Europe and Asia and…welI I was going to describe them as Costcos where you don’t have to buy in bulk to save, but that is a horrible description which doesn’t make any sense. They are HUGE, have everything you could ever want, are dirt cheap and, perhaps best of all, have the greatest slogans of all time. I first became aware of Carrefours' ridiculous phrasing years ago when I was in France and, since then, have become an avid Googler of their campaigns. (How on earth am I still single?) I used to think that, given they originate in French, the translation might be what makes them so bad. It’s not – they’re ridiculous in every language. My current favourites are “It’s good for you”, “Energy Wise”and “Nobody does better than the first” (because that makes sense). The Polish one is quite amazing also: “Positively every day”, which I guess is significantly better than “Negatively some days”.

Anyway, we spent about an hour in the Carrefour browsing the aisles and filling our baskets (and scribing the signs so I could translate their slogans), eventually heading back to the hostel. By the time we got back, most of our pub crawl crew had emerged and were nursing sore heads and guzzling water downstairs. Javier was the first to speak, asking us if we’d ‘had a nice walk’. I can only assume he followed us at some point. Creep. We joined everyone and commenced the always-enjoyable Morning After Debrief. I was particularly looking forward to this one as there were several hundred minutes of my night unaccounted for. Unfortunately, no one else was much help in this department. Robert Downey Asshole commented that he left us all dancing when he departed the club with ‘A stunning Polish lass’. I think he said this because he wanted us all to know that he left with a woman (who I still believe was as real as Pamela Anderson’s boobs), however it backfired because it gave Kaitlyn a chance to call him on his assholery regarding her dancing. ‘I wasn’t dancing.’

‘Huh?’

‘You said you left us all dancing. But I wasn’t, because according to you I “can’t dance” and I’m “fat”.’

‘Ummm…’

‘That’s what you said – that I’m fat, can’t dance and,’pointing at me, ‘my tits are smaller than her’s’.

‘Well that’s true! They are.’  IDIOT. Even Ned looked at him with an expression of disdain.‘Look, I tend to say the opposite of things. So, if someone is ugly, I say they’re pretty.’ Logical. ‘Look. I just wanted to bring you down a peg.’

‘Why? Why did I need to be “brought down a peg”? It wasn’t as if I was telling everyone how hot I am, or what an amazing dancer I am.’

‘Everyone needs to be brought down. Even you.’

‘That’s ridiculous. Even so, what you’re saying is that I’m not fat, and I can dance?’

‘No, you can’t dance. At least, not as well as me. But mum and dad made us all take dance classes when we were younger, so it’s not your fault I’m better.’ Foot in mouth.

Speaking of one body part in another, this was about the time Scorsese and Dick-to-Face appeared. Lucky for us, he had not forgotten his promise of showing us an “awesome” clip he had taken the night before. 'Youse all ready for this?'

‘Not really.’ And nice to know your grammar is just as terrible when you’re sober. I don’t think a person with an IQ in double-digits could ever be ready to experience a visual depiction of “Dick To Face”. It really is the most literal “thing” ever, and still to this day, sometimes when I close my eyes I can still see Dick hovering over some poor man, his appendage agonizingly sharp and well-lit thanks to Scorsese’s practised camera-work and his iPhone 4’s camera.

‘Isn’t that SICK?!’ He obviously meant "sick" not in the literal sense, but as a synonym for "tremendous". I was honestly able to agree that it was, indeed, very sick. Literally. “But this is NOTHIN’ compared to the shit I got this morning. Youse are gonna DIE.’ Certainly possible, yes. Apparently the two of them along with Yeast Infection went even harder than the rest of us on the crawl and hadn’t arrived home until around eight o’clock that morning. While I assumed this had given them hours and hours to seek out faces to “dick”, it turns out they actually have a few other skills in their repertoire. Not surprisingly, this one also involved them dropping their pants, but it had a somewhat karmic end from which I must admit I derived a sense of satisfied pleasure.

‘We was in the square this morning and there was this hobo passed out near the clock. We was gonna try to Dick-to-Face” him, but he (Dick) was scared he was gonna catch something from the dirty hobo.’ Somehow, I think the “hobo” was just as likely to catch something too. ‘Anyways, we didn’t do it.’ Shame.‘But we did do something!’ Yay.

‘We realised it was like mornin’ and people were everywhere walkin’ to work. We couldn’t really Dick-to-Face them, but we could Dick them.’ I was going to point out that ‘dick’ isn’t actually a verb, but I realised they were unlikely to appreciate a discussion on the syntax of modern English. I am unsure whether Dick loses interest in dropping his pants when it doesn’t involved hanging it in someone’s face, but in the video he seemed not overly interested, and instead we were subjected to the naked bottom half of Yeast Infection. I have to give props to Scorsese here, because, despite the gratuitous nudity, the clip was first-class. In broad daylight in the middle of the town square, Yeast Infection drops his pants as several people walk by. Suddenly he mistakes one for a cop (it was actually a garbage man) and, takes off running. Only, in his inebriated state (one could argue he is dumb enough to do it sober), failed to pull his pants up first. So he starts running but only makes it a few metres before he trips, tries to right himself, and he nearly does, only to stumble into this huge pile of garbage bags where he ends up doing a spectacular backwards somersault and skids a good six metres across the concrete on his bare arse. And keep in mind this is a square dating back to the 13th Century – no smooth, sealed concrete here, people. Slapstick and naked men (with the exception of Ryan Gosling and Christian Bale) are not things I go out of my way to watch on film, but I watched this clip at least a dozen times. I haven’t even noticed The Other One (Bogan 4) sitting there, but his quiet observation of ‘Sucked in,’ reinforced that he was definitely my favourite.

While we were watching the clip for the sixth time, Yeast Infection hobbled his was into the kitchen. I thought he might be a little red-faced over the whole incident, but he squeezed himself onto the couch in-between Kaitlyn and me and watched with as much enthusiasm as the rest of us. ‘I haven’t seen it yet. Is it good?’ His reaction coupled with his vigorous high-fiving of Scorsese suggests that it was one of the proudest moments of his life. ‘Fuckin’ stellar, mate.’ Then, without any warning whatsoever, jumped up off the couch and dropped his pants, showing us all his “battle-wound”. I never hated being short more in my life that at moment, where my eye-line was perfectly matched up to his very bare, very bloody, very disgusting arse. Fortunately, the pants went back up pretty fast because, “We gotta get going. Off to that place today.”

'Where?'

‘That one youse were talkin’ ‘bout last night. Ost-witch’

‘Auschwitz?’

‘Yeah. Goin’ there with my shorts rubbing on this thing–at least I’ll be feeling the same kinda pain what those guys felt.’ Yes, because a self-inflicted buttock-graze is definitely comparable to starvation, forced labour, infectious disease and medical experiments. My GOD. And with that, they were gone. (In case you were wondering, Bogan Daddy was absent as he was ‘upstairs Skypin’ his missus’. Small mercies.)

We had to take our leave not long after, as we were going on the Jewish Walking Tour. Turns out Ned, RDA, Kitty and a new guy, who had just checked in called Matt, were also heading there. So was Javier. Surprise, surprise. Unlike the walking tour of the old city, this one was excellent. The district of Kazimierz was, hands down, my favourite part of the city, and we ended up heading back there a few times throughout our stay in Kraków. The tour took us to several synagogues (of which only one is still active), the Jewish Ghetto and Schindler’s Factory. I’m not going to write much about the tour because, as fascinating as I found it, it was incredibly sobering, and completely out of place being discussed here. While we were on the tour, the guide pointed out several places in Kazimierz which she considered might have been of interest to us later, including a bar which was nicknamed "Narnia", as you actually had to go through a wardrobe full of coats to reach the tables. We obviously tapped that one for future exploration. Javier was mighty keen to pencil in an exact time to explore, but we left it up in the air.

The tour was really quite long, and we didn’t end up getting back to the hostel until dinner time. Our arrival coincided with the arrival of The Bogans. Auschwitz was discussed, but I am not going to write about any of their comments as most of them lacked any decency whatsoever. Having said that, it was during this conversation that I came to realise these guys weren’t trying to be arrogant, obnoxious bigots – they were merely gross, juvenile guys who simply didn't get it.

The next day we were going to Auschwitz and, given that we were going to have to get up around 5.45am in order to make it to the bus in time, we had intentions of an early night sans-alcohol. Instead, we decided to walk into town after dinner for ice-cream. Ned and Robert Downey Asshole had an early train to catch, and decided to join us. I was more than happy to spend time with Ned as I loved him, but RDA’s presence was less than desirable. Having said that, he was on his best behaviour, and I would estimate only 50% of what came out of his mouth was rude and insulting. (The other 50% was narcissistic, but it was an improvement.) We returned home as the pub crawl was leaving, running into Javier who had apparently spent the last ninety minutes wondering where we had gone. ‘I would have come with you!’ This is why we didn’t tell you where we were going. Unsurprisingly, Kaitlyn and I found ourselves in a completely empty "bread sauna" at the early hour. Looking forward to a decent night sleep we crawled into bed and set our alarms for 5.45am.

However, it was not my alarm which woke me up, instead a Goddamn solar eclipse. At least, that’s what I thought it was when I roused, only to realise one of our roomies had come back in and turned the main light on. Looking at my phone I realised it was only 1.30, so I rolled over and tried to get back to sleep. That’s when I became aware of an irritating female giggle. Kaitlyn and I were the only girls in our dorm, so my interest was momentarily piqued. Just before the light was turned back off, I managed to get a glimpse of the trespasser, and recognised her as an American girl I’d seen around.

I didn’t really care that she was in our room (it’s a hostel…and people in glass houses shouldn’t throw stones), but I DID care that she was being so freaking loud. Especially because she had a reallyirritating voice – think Janice from Friends crossed with Fran Drescher. ‘Oh my GOD! It is soooooo hot in here.’ Then leave. ‘Ohhh!!!! Are you on a TOP bunk?! I think I’m too drunk to get up there! Hehehe.’ Then leave. ‘Oh! There are people in here.’ Yeah, and we’re trying to sleep. LEAVE! She wasn’t even trying to be quiet, even after she made the Sherlockean observation that there were people in the room. To his credit, the guy did try and get her to be quiet…and not just with his hand, if you know what I mean. Yes, this was my first experience of hostel dorm sex. (Regrettably, not my last.)

The girl was loud when she was talking, so you can imagine she wasn’t exactly quiet in the throes of passion. At first I was thinking, ‘It’s okay, just let them do it, and go back to sleep,’. This is hard to do when it sounds like there’s a sumo wrestling match going on and one of them is in the midst of a heart attack. Still, I let it go. When I checked my phone and saw it was 2.00am, I started to toss around as loudly as possible, hoping they would suddenly remember there was someone there and just STOP ALREADY. Nope. Also unsuccessful was my coughing. When it hit 2.30am I was done, and turned on the light next to my bed. I sat up, and looked over, and the two of them paused mid….the two of them paused, looked at me, and then got right back to it. Seriously. What I still find mesmerising is that not one other person in the dorm was aware of this. Each and every one of them slept through it, including Kaitlyn who was on the bunk directly below them.

It took me a long time after that to get back to sleep, but I swear I was just drifting off when I was again awoken by something which wasn’t my alarm. Again, it was a voice, only this time a male one. You know when people – usually drunk ones –are trying to be quiet and “whisper”, only their whisper is no softer in volume, simply of different tonality to their loud voice? Well that is exactly what this guy was doing. He went up to one guy in the dorm and shook him awake, ‘HAVE YOU SEEN MY USB?’

‘Huh?’

‘HAVE YOU SEEN MY USB?’

‘No?’

‘OKAY.’ He then reached up and shook awake the guy on the bunk above. ‘HEY. HAVE YOU GOT MY USB?’

‘What?’

‘HAVE YOU GOT MY USB?’ Guy number two also hadn’t seen the USB. No worries, maybe guy number three had. ‘HEY! HAVE YOU GOT MY USB?’

‘HUH? WHAT? NO.’

‘HAVE YOU SEEN MY USB?’

‘NO. PISS OFF.’ Not evenly slightly discouraged, he tried guy number four.

‘HAVE YOU GOT MY USB? HEY!!’Guy number four was proving hard to rouse. More vigorous shaking. ‘HEY.MAN. HAVE YOU GOT MY USB?’ Number four did not have his USB. Next, he came over to me and started shaking me.‘HAVE YOU GOT MY USB?’ I had several things I wanted to say, including the fact he probably didn’t need his USB at five in the morning. Instead, I stuck with the obvious, ‘I don’t know you.’ He stared at me for a second.‘YEAH. BUT HAVE YOU SEEN MY USB?’ The guy on the bunk above me told him in no uncertain terms where he could stick his USB if he were to ever find it. Then it was Kaitlyn, who told him similar things. I’m not sure if he tried Shaggy and Janice, because I astoundingly managed to fall back asleep.

The next time I woke up was to my alarm. As we made our way out of the hostel to walk to the bus, I wasn’t in the least bit surprised to find Javier shadowing us. ‘Oh! We all going together! This will be fun.’ As with the Jewish walking tour, I am not going to write anything here about Auschwitz. I will be writing about it, because it’s part of our trip and something I want to write about and feel I should. However, it doesn’t fit in here in the middle of this.

That night drinks were definitely in order, but a small group of us decided a pub crawl didn’t really seem appropriate, and instead decided to head to Kazimierz. Over dinner at the hostel, those of us who had been to Auschwitz were quietly discussing our reactions when, with their typically impeccable timing, the Bogans came in. Yeast Infection quickly realised there were people who hadn’t seen his graze and immediately dropped his pants and shoved his butt into peoples’ faces. ‘D’ya reckon it’ll get infected?’ There were several new faces in the room, and Scorsese wasted no time in showing them all his back catalogue, while Dick eagerly explained the “rules” of Dick-to-Face. Not one to be left out, Yeast Infection decided to regale the newbies with tales of his various sexual exploits. ‘Yeah. There was this one chick in the Indian Ocean. She was loving it, but salty water stings like a bitch, ya know?’ On that note, our group headed to Narnia, doggedly avoiding Javier who seemed eager to come.

And that was Kraków. Only one other thing of note happened before we left. As we were checking out the next morning, Yeast Infection came swanning past reception wearing nothing but a towel slung low on his hips. I’m not entirely sure why he bothered with this piece of modesty as everyone there had already seen everything underneath. Repeatedly. He came over when he saw us. ‘Where are youse going? Are you guys leaving?’ Genius.

‘Yeah…we’re off.’

‘Oh! Well come ‘ere then.’ His arms were outstretched and he was coming closer. I was thoroughly confused. ‘You weren’t gonna leave without giving us a hug, were you?’ Yeah, actually – we were. I’m not quite sure when, but sometime between the graphic retelling of the story which gave birth to his name, and examining the bleeding graze on his butt under duress, we kind of grew to sort of like each other. So it was a lovely sentiment. Still, I no-rinse sanitised the shit out of my body afterwards.

Next time: An overnight train takes us to Vienna. Overnight trains are horrible.