|(An excerpt from my private journals, New Years' Eve in Kraków, Poland.)
After my nap, I primped and headed to “7,” a friendly bar near my hotel.
At the door, the man had a registry and blurted out something in Polish. Thankfully, a man behind me translated what he said, in French. I could go in, but I’d not have a reserved table. OK. OK.
I sat at the bar and nursed a delicious beer.
A quite annoying 20s something man with heavy acne insisted on talking with me. I had made eye contact with a pretty lesbian couple that sat on the other side from me.
“Jak sie mas,” I asked. That broke the ice. After I told them that I was alone, Katrina and her girlfriend told me that they would adopt me for the night. And they did. We talked for hours and hours in German.
They are lovely people and make a really pretty, romantic couple. Amazingly, they actually met in Tunisia, on vacation. Two women. One with her girlfriend, the other with a husband and kids. They fell in love at first sight. Now, although they live in different cities, they see each other every weekend and traveled to Krakow for the weekend.
We agreed that we would leave around 11:30 to go to the market place to see what was happening.
We left at 11:45 and ran to the plaza. I said to them “fest halten,” hold on tight. The annoying acne man had told me earlier that there would be more than 150,000 people in the square, that it would be one of the largest celebrations in Europe. The place was packed you could barely move.
We made it about 20 feet short of the square when midnight came. They kissed one another, then I kissed them.
The night was clear and fresh. Fireworks and champagne bottles popped everywhere. You could smell the sulphur from the fireworks. The night was mixed with music, the sounds of breaking glass and people screaming happy new year. People embraced one another and danced and drank and celebrated.
The architecture combined with the fireworks and festive mood created an atmosphere that I will treasure. The only way it would have been better if a certain someone were with me.
It was incredibly romantic and beautiful. The couple caught on and kissed several times. I told them that I was their security blanket and they soaked up the moment together and had many tender moments.
My women wanted to get closer to the stage. We grabbed on to each other and their pushed our way through the crowd. They wanted to get closer to the action.
Two stages were set up. One stage was attached to the Cloth Market, high above, on construction stilts. Jutting out from the main stage was catwalk that came out into the crowd.
On each of these long stages, there were professional dancers who, with extreme graciousness danced the night away. The dancers must have been models as all of them were drop dead gorgeous. Fine specimens indeed.
A popular Polish pop singer appeared on the main stage and sang some hits. One song was really popular and we all jumped up and down. Nope. I didn’t know the words to the songs. But the crowd did and loved it. Surprisingly, they did not clap after each song. Pacifist group.
The large TV screen showed the singer, the crowd and the dancers. The production was incredibly sophisticated, hi-tech and well planed out.
Earlier in the day, I had bought a bottle of apple flavored vodka. Really good stuff! My women didn’t take too much of it, but I passed it around to people—mostly students in the crowd,. Don’t worry. The alcohol kills germs and bacteria. Germophobes need not visit Europe. Trust me.
Oh, the 500 ml bottle was a third full this morning.
We returned to “7” and continued to party. After dancing a bit, my women were beat and bid their farewell. I talked with a nice couple from Berlin, who of course, spoke German and not English.
When I got back to my hotel, I looked at my watch. I tapped it, thinking it was wrong. No. It couldn’t have been 6:00 am. I grabbed my useless alarm clock. It said the 6:00 am. I need to do something unnecessarily drastic to the alarm clock because it is such a twat to me.