Angels to the rescue

However, all was not lost. One of the employees of the company in Poland that was working with Activision, Monika, was on hand to lend what assistance she could. With her help, I found out that the American embassy could issue me a visa, maybe, if they liked me, if I came down and filled out the requisite paperwork. The Canadian embassy was nearby, and if I could fill out the forms and prove citizenship, I’d get a visa. The Canadian consulate would not, however, issue me an entry visa. After all, I was a Canadian citizen. They said if I had the certificate and photo ID, that proved it. But could I change my airline ticket (and the flight was rapidly approaching) and fly directly to Canada? No! I’d need to prove I was a Canadian citizen with a passport. I checked the calendar again. It still said it was Friday the second, but I began to suspect it was lying to me.

Both documents would take a few days to approve, with the US visa being “if we like you”, and the Canadian passport being “almost certainly”. The US visa was cheaper, the Canadian passport would bring me dangerously close to being broke. Despite all assurances otherwise, my bank card just would not work here.

Main hall of the station, buy your tickets

Construction is going on everywhere in Poland

Headline - New Orleans is Dying

Since my level of sobriety and awareness, though no doubt much improved by the shock of being left in Poland, was still short of that of rational thought, Monika had been so nice as to volunteer her own time and cell phone as to make the necessary calls, and find out what I needed to do. She’s also blond, and like most Polish women, absolutely gorgeous – my angel to the rescue. I guarantee you that both Russ Fischer and Dale Nardozzi, two Americans who I’d hung out with on the trip, can back me up on my point about Polish girls – it’s not some overblown sense of national pride. The average Polish chick is balls-swelling hot.

I left my heavy bag (unfortunately, my camera with it) and packed off on a cab to downtown Warsaw. By now, I’d started feeling the self-recrimination, guilt and the budding pressure of a bout of depression building. I had no time for that - I needed a passport, and to do that I had to get a photo, fill out 6 pages of paperwork and do that in two hours because embassies, like banks, don’t want your business and close a couple of hours before everyone gets off work.

Finally, on the road - err rails

Rail travel is huge in Poland, hence all the tracks

The Polish countryside is absolutely breathtaking

I go to the embassy, get directions to a passport photographer, get the paperwork and start running my errands. Then, I wait for their lunch to be over so I can drop it all off. It’s an hour long. This is my first downtime since this morning and I’m feeling the budding sense of depression bloom. I have no idea where I’ll get the money for a ticket yet, I don’t know where I’ll stay, and I have an hour to think about it. Playing my GBA SP and PSP only makes it worse.