however, at the back of the mind, there is that voice and it’s telling you that today could change your life.  now, in all honesty, an acceptance letter and a mere few hundred bucks for a piece of work is not life changing.  it will barely be enough to buy a trip to the movies these days . . . however, it’s symbolic.  an acceptance letter radiates approval, fine wine for the spirit.  this is all speculation, mind you, as i have no experience with actually succeeding, just dreams.  one acceptance and my confidence will be restored, it will stop the bleeding, cauterize my wounded pride.  i’ll be renewed and ready to open the notebook again.  and that’s where the dream turns to a nightmare.  opening the notebook again . . .

if this letter is acceptance, it’s a small victory.  then the notebook must be opened again.  a new piece of higher quality must be created, and every successive piece must be of still higher quality.  if diminishing quality is found, the game is up.  only the greats can afford to slip up, only those at the top of the game.  if a hopeful attempting his climb falls . . . he falls all the way, breaking his spine, arm, and hopes in the process.  it’s a bloody mess and no one will come and heal you to health.

the house is on fire and you and your family are chained to your beds.  however, if it’s any consolation, the dog made it out just fine.

so here we are, arriving in the moment.  bills that will go unpaid stacked to the right, junk mail to be used as scrap paper on the left . . . letter in the middle.  i would try to build the tension here, but what does it matter anymore.  it’s opened.

rejection.

this moment, this exact point in time that keeps repeating is why i don’t own a pistol.  for this one minute, this short glimpse of bottomless depression . . .

you’d consider anything.

eating on the road for cheap is often at odds with eating healthy.  however you can often get vegetables and fruits for very cheap, especially in eastern europe, at local farm markets.  even major cities have these, for instance here in warsaw there is a market in my district where i pick up some of the freshest food i have ever eaten for cheaper than you would think.  however, i won’t concentrate too much on warsaw, when the print guide is completed it will have a section on eating cheaply in warszawa.

as a general rule, when in poland think pierogi.  it’s cheap, it’s filling, and it’s damn good.  i prefer ruskie myself, filled with cottage cheese and mashed potatoes.

street vendors are another good source of cheap and filling, albeit unhealthy, food.  kebab, for all it’s faults, has satisfied my appetite more than once for a mere three or four euro.

local grocery stores.  this one seems obvious, but take it one step further.  leave the city center, everything is more expensive in the city center.  take your map and locate a shopping center away from downtown and grab a bus.  you get to see a less visited part of town and grab some cheap fare at the same time.  for best budget:  sneak onto the bus without a ticket.  just don’t get caught.

and my favorite, check the refrigerator at your hostel.  many travelers leave their unused ingredients behind when they leave.  survey the wares and concoct a recipe in your head based on what materials you have available.  free meal.

that’s all for now, anyone with any suggests, stick them in the comments.

-derek

i had been standing along a rather deserted polish road for what seemed like hours, my last ride had dropped me off in a hurry, seems like something spooked him.  this normally wouldn’t be such a big a deal if the day wasn’t starting to give way to night, with the sky that murderous purple color of impending dark.  that is one of my cardinal rules: no rides after dusk.  however, i hadn’t anticipated this journey to last so long and i hadn’t come prepared with my tent.  my first mistake.  as such i was standing there, thumb to the road, hoping to flag down a kindred soul for the rest of my trip back home to warsaw.

a silver coup pulled into the shoulder and i approached the window, giving the driver a quick but thorough stare.  that is one of my abilities. i have learned to read people in an instant.  it’s not so hard really, most people are so simple a quick glance is all that is needed.  this man seemed decent, well-dressed in a grey suit and slicked back hair.  i asked where he was going.  warsaw.  perfect.  i judged this man as safe.  my second mistake.  i got into his car.  my third, and nearly fatal, mistake.

i put my bag onto my lap, as i always do in case a quick escape is needed at a red light, for example.  always keep your possessions with you.  if they offer to put them in the trunk, decline.

outside the darkness was quickly enveloping us.

the ride was, looking back, suspiciously uneventful for the first twenty minutes.  most rides like to talk.  about something, about anything.  but they speak.  this man said nothing since i climbed into the car with the exception of asking if the air conditioner was too high.  in the silence my eyes began to wander.  i often do that, look around the cars at what things are lying around, at what people store in their cars.  people all the world over are the same.  same fears, dreams, and predictability.  also, they tend to have the same useless trash in their cars.  this car contained peculiar items.  nothing overtly unsettling or even strange – just things that didn’t fit the illustration this man was painting as a business man returning home.

the sun was now set.   darkness had since risen.  the car headlights beamed and illuminated the road ahead.

a can of black spray paint, a length of thin metal yard fencing, and a hammer.  as i began to muse on these items and their seeming uselessness to the middle-aged business man next to me – he spoke.

“you speak with an accent.  where do you come from?”

during his speaking he never moves his head, his eyes remain focused solely on the road ahead.

“boston, across the ocean.”

“quite far indeed.  i don’t pick up hitchers often”

this seemed a strange comment to insert into an otherwise unrelated conversation.

“is that right . . . then why’s you give me a ride, at night no less?”

and what he said next is not clear to me even to this very day.

“what I usually do didn’t work earlier.”

at this point the conversation stopped.  not out of fear or distrust.  simply because i couldn’t respond, the comment was too vague.  i couldn’t make out the slightest meaning of what this meant, so we both fell back into silence.  as i was gazing out the window into the supreme darkness that choked the car on all sides, i became filled with dread.  my intuition told me to leave this car.  immediately.  but how?  it was dark, i couldn’t force him to pull over, there were no other cars around and even if there were it was too dark to see either way.  also we were in the middle of nowhere.  almost all of poland is the middle of nowhere.  you’re either in a city, or miles away from the nearest house.  nope, there was no escaping this time.  adrenaline surged through me.  despite the internal revelation, the facade remains calm.  this is the most important tactic one can take in this situation.  if the intruder fears you have figured him out – it’s over.  nope, you need him to keep playing his role and figure out how to best utilize your slight advantage of information, because at that moment all you have is that he thinks you are ignorant of your fate.

i began to try and clam myself down, to think rationally.  perhaps i had it all wrong.  after all, he showed me no signs to fear of . . . but still, gut instinct proves itself more accurate than intellectual reasoning more often than one would hope.  so it was settled, i needed to escape or determine to defend myself.  the idea of escape proved wiser, because right now we were on neutral terrain.  if i waited and plotted until we arrived wherever we were going we would be on his home turf, he was would have every advantage – i would be finished.

my eyes caught the door locks.  horror consumed me.  they were too low.  it would be impossible to unlock the door with fingers.  it was too dark to see if they were worn down intentionally, or whether they were manufactured that way, to this day i do not know.

to pull this together quickly: he needed to fill up some gas.  we pulled in to the next station.  he went into the store to pay.

i snuck out at that very moment, stole a pen he had on the console (i was unarmed, at least it was something) and headed for the only road.

about ten minutes later the car passed me slowly, stopped for a moment, then drove off into the night.

to this very day i do not know what happened that night.  i don’t know the intentions of the man or what fate was in store for me had i not escaped that car.  all i know is that i made it out, body and mind intact.  oh, also i still have the pen.

see you on the road,

derek

most of the rides you will receive will be from lonely men.  not sexually motivated lonely men, as the stereotype would have you believe – but genuinely lonely men looking for an ear to simply sit and listen.  and that’s how many rides go.  the things people reveal!  that’s the allure of it: as the hitchhiker, i am a stranger, a drifter, i will be gone in moments from their life forever . . . but for this moment in time, this precise instance in the cosmos, our paths have crossed.

they can reveal anything to me, and in an hour or less, i’ll be gone forever.  it’s cathartic for them.  it’s enlightening to me.

the things i have heard . . .

and that’s what this series is about: life on the road.  the people i’ve met, the stories i’ve heard, the close calls, and the near escapes.

i’m a tease.  there will be no story in this post, just a temptation.  the temptation being the first story of the series and what it will feature:

a friendly looking business man offering me a ride.  and then my insides slowly turning to horror as i notice that the inside locks of the car have been scrapped down too low for human fingers to unlock the door . . .

and yes, that is as terrifying as it sounds.

one maxim: when you think you’ve finished packing do one thing: remove half of what you’ve brought.

yes, you need to remember that you will be carrying this on your back, for long distances, in hot sun.  the smaller your pack the better off you will be.  it isn’t a contest to have the largest backpack out of your group, in fact, it should be the opposite: who can fit their supplies into the smallest, most agile bag.  backpacks are big and ungainly.  get a small one.

the list:

long pants, one or two pairs

shorts, one or two pairs

three or four plain white shirts

decent shoes, already broken in (you don’t want to see what new shoes will do to your feet on a backpacking trip, trust me)

bathroom supplies (toothbrush, toothpaste, shampoo, and soap.  i like to get a bar of soap and give it additional work as my shampoo, saves valuable space)

four or five pairs of socks

your travel notebook with pen

a sweatshirt or jacket in case of rain

decent maps

travel towel

reading books

optional:

tent, sleeping bag, and sleeping pad (if this is a hostel trip, leave this home)

that’s really all that you need in your pack, the rest you can buy at your destination.  it may seem like a small amount, but then again backpacking isn’t about the luxuries of life – it’s about getting the most of where you are for the least amount of money possible.

when you break it down, one does not require much to live well.

food, clothes, shelter.  the rest is extra.

see you on the road,

derek

it is of vital importance when visiting a foreign culture to do two things: familiarize yourself with the language and read about the history (politically and culturally) of the place.  this is done out of respect for your host country and for your own development.  too many times do i encounter young people on a blitzkrieg tour of europe spending no more than even two days in a single country.  that is not traveling, it is pretending to travel.

immerse yourself.

and with this in mind i will offer some books that can help one visiting poland and warsaw familiarize themselves with where the country stands and where it has been.  and no, these are not ‘boring’ history books, they are cultural behemoths of creative literature that have shaped the polish psyche.  the history can be found in any book, one need not suggest a history book, just hit the library.

and so we begin:

adam mickiewicz is a name you had better familiarize yourself with.  this romantic poet weighs so heavily in the educated pole’s mind that one might even say mickiewicz defines polish literature, as a generalization.  this would not be an over-statement.  he authored many works, but the main one for you to read is master thaddeus (pan tadeusz). this is it, the polish masterwork.

witold gombrowicz is another titan in polish literature, though this particular author had trouble reaching an audience in post-war poland, with the suppression of dissent by the polish authorities.  however, the out-pouring of support for gombrowicz led to the printing of his banned books in secret, and the dissemination of his works in the shadows of warsaw.  the book for you is ferdydurke. it’s quite a work and about as easily read as joyce, however the effort is worth it.  language is crucial to this particular work so much is lost in translation, but fear not, it is still a worthy read.

henryk sienkiewicz is the last one i will discuss in short today.  a writer of historical novels, he is held in high regard for his accuracy and focus on language.  ogniem i mieczem (with fire and sword) is the book you are looking for of his.  i am not highly familiar with him beyond this one work, so i don’t feel comfortable going on in detail about his works – but his influence on the nation and the language is worth noting.

and so that brings this update to a close.  being an informed traveler is crucial to gaining any sort of insight or growth from your travels.  read, listen, and learn about your destinations.

see you on the road,

derek

we shall begin with a mission statement: to provide prudent information to the backpacker.  the craft of backpacking is quickly being commercialized, our great passion falling into greedy hands.  at the moment there is a large void in quality travel advice free from advertisement and corporate interference for the backpacker, i intend to change that, one city at a time, one journey at a time – and i shall begin with my adopted city of warsaw, poland.  guides that will follow the initial include berlin and prague, two of my favorite cities.

if you think lonely planet has quality advice to offer you, this place is for you.  read and be awakened.

the focus will not solely be on travel, as the guide will be published and available to be ordered when it will be finished.  this is a lengthy process, and with only two people working on it, months and possibly longer will be needed to forge this work of passion.

i will update and post things related travel, music, and literature – three of my life’s main passions.

also to look for, to keep in mind for my fellow backpackers who may stumble upon this, at the conclusion of my business degree (i study in warsaw for the sole purpose of securing a loan) a new hostel experience will be opened in split, croatia.  i want to ditch the name hostel, it’s name has been smeared.  keep a look out for the backpacker’s lodge within the next few years.

travel is not a hobby, it is a way of life.

see you on the road,

derek