Prague to Warsaw odyssey, Part 1

I wasn't even supposed to go to Warsaw this weekend. Mr P. was supposed to come to Prague, but it seems that, despite my protestations that Warsaw isn't really that bad, any Czech resident there who's able to hightails it back to Prague at the weekend. Traveler be warned: book your Friday night plane tickets well in advance. Since everyone is coming here, I've been left with no choice but to go there. And what a journey it's been thus far.

This the Metro C station at Hlavní nádraží.

Four hours ago, when I really needed to use it, it was closed. I found out while on a stationary train at I.P. Pavlova, when the driver announced that we would not be leaving the station after all. It was 9.45. The train to Warsaw was leaving at 10.11. I didn't understand how this could be happening. While living in London, I proclaimed the genius of the Prague metro. It's not like the tube – no weekend closures, no signal failures, no waiting for an available platform at Earls Court. It always works. It's never, in my experience, not worked. Until today, when I had an international train to catch. My caffeine-deprived brain couldn't process the information. Following the crowd out of the station, I decided the sensible thing would be to hail a cab. Except that there aren't any cabs at I.P. Pavlova at 9.50am on a Friday morning. I tried phoning a cab company and was given a 10 minute wait time. No good. At 10.11, I was slightly hysterical and on a tram to Náměstí Miru, wondering how I ever thought another foray into multi-city living was in any sense a good idea.

Not to be daunted by the broken metro and missed train, I proceeded by other means of transportation to the station. I thought I would be consigned to the slowest train of the day, a 10-hour long nightmare that arrives in Warsaw at 10.45, but was rescued by a Pendolino service to Ostrava that would get me there an hour and half earlier, in time for a fashionably late dinner. Score. At this point I realized that it was after 11am and I had yet to eat or drink anything. An early lunch seemed a good idea. But first I had to find the loo. Here it is:

You can't quite make out the blurry blue sign, but it says "WC". Yes, that's right. The loos, in a busy international train station, where people, like the man in this photo, are carrying baggage, are at the top of a long flight of stairs. They also cost the princely sum of 10kc to use, which is a trifle steep, though I would happily fork over twice that amount if all profits went to the construction of an escalator. Considering that Hl. Nádr. has just been through an extensive remodeling, I'm not sure how this happened. How is this at all logical? Whoever designed it seems to have realized that the act of dragging heavy suitcases up there was likely to make one hot and sweaty, as they kindly installed showers (40kc, prosim). Unfortunately they failed to take into account the fact that you'd then have to schlep your stuff back downstairs after showering. Perhaps a shower at each end is the answer? You may right ask if there are luggage lockers at the station – surely the weary traveler can deposit his/her baggage and proceed unencumbered up the stairs? Yes, there is a lovely locker bank. But only, apparently, if you have the right change. I thought I did, until I tried to pay and realized the lockers don't accept coins smaller than 5kc, at which point I gave up and hauled my stuff up the stairs.

After this adventure, I collapsed in the Potrafena Husa restaurant in the station. I had briefly considered running out for something lighter and of Asian extraction, but given how the day was going, I thought it best not to leave the station. I grabbed a table next to a group of semi-annoying backpackers and ordered a šopský salát (tomato, cucumbers, peppers, Balkan cheese, onions) and, from the beer menu, toasty s kozím syrem (toasted bread with goat cheese and caramelized onions). When my food arrived, I appeared to have ordered two large salads. I was too tired to attempt an ironic comment to the waiter or to check the menu again to see if I'd missed the fact that the goat cheese toast came with salad. I just ate them.

In happier news, Potrafena Husa had wi-fi. I started writing this post and was checking the email when the salads arrived. After I'd eaten them and tried to get back online, the network had disappeared.

Now, however, I am caffeinated and on my way, speeding east across the Czech countryside between Pardubice and Olomouc armed with Bourdieu, sparkling water and sláné tyčinky. The Pendolino is lovely and best of all, the loos are at ground level.

Do you have any train travel horror stories to share? Or suggestions for re-redesigning Hlavní nadráží?