Since the Intercity requires reservations, there's always a seat, which spares you from—or robs you of—potentially interesting situations resulting from the forced intimacy of a standing-room only train.

So, when I bought my Intercity ticket in Wroclaw-midway between Kracow and Berlin one spring day, I was expecting to nurse a beer and do some reading.

Not sure exactly when my train left, I asked the man standing in line in front of me whether he was going to Berlin, too.

“Andrzej saw this and scoffed, 'Don't know how to drink, eh Amerikanin?'”

"Yeah, what of it?" he said rudely, almost aggressively.

I'd been in Poland long enough to know that rudeness to foreigners was often due to a case of mistaken identity and I pulled out a phrase that had served me well:

"Nie jestem Szwabem," or "I'm not a Kraut,” I said in an injured tone.

more >>

<< home

<< discuss article >>