I have a few euros left from my Mum and I decide to spend it on a night in a Polish hotel in order to have one night of comfort before my journey. I have a shower in the hotel and savour the feeling of being washed as this probably is the last time I will be clean for a while. I put on the cleanest top I have, but it is filthy and the feeling ends. At least I still have a good night's sleep to look forward to.
I flick the light switch, the room goes dark and it sudden reminds of me a room I stayed in as a child. I still can't remember which room, all I could remember was the room had scared me back then. Some semblence of the fear still seems to remain with me and it grows a little as I lie in bed. Feeling this fear while in the complete safety of my hotel room reminds me of who I am. I remember that I'm still scared of the dark, although less so than when I was a child, I know it never completely went away. I remember that the country side has always frightened me at night, I don't like the silence, I don't like how still everything is. I remember that I'll be camping in empty fields in the pitch black, wet Polish nights. I remember that I can't put up my tent. I remember I will be alone. I realise what I'm actually doing and realise that I am scared.
My brain recalls some images of the kind of ghouls that my imagination frightened me with as a child. The ghouls change into the skeletal figures of Auschwitz survivors that we see in old photos. I don't know why I'm going to Auschwitz, I don't think I want to see it. I don't know why I'm doing this whole trip, I don't think I want to do it. A novel idea has suddenly become reality and for the first time I feel really frightened. I feel a wave of panic about to spread across my whole body, but a triple shot of some spirit some Polish people gave me in the bar earlier kicks in, and I pass out.
I awake the next day and the hotel does my laundry, but the clothes I leave to go to the station with are still wet as apparently the price I paid didn't include drying. I only have my 40 euros now, so don't have the money to waste on drying. I move through the rain with my soaking belongings to the station to catch my overnight train to Krakow.
I flick the light switch, the room goes dark and it sudden reminds of me a room I stayed in as a child. I still can't remember which room, all I could remember was the room had scared me back then. Some semblence of the fear still seems to remain with me and it grows a little as I lie in bed. Feeling this fear while in the complete safety of my hotel room reminds me of who I am. I remember that I'm still scared of the dark, although less so than when I was a child, I know it never completely went away. I remember that the country side has always frightened me at night, I don't like the silence, I don't like how still everything is. I remember that I'll be camping in empty fields in the pitch black, wet Polish nights. I remember that I can't put up my tent. I remember I will be alone. I realise what I'm actually doing and realise that I am scared.
My brain recalls some images of the kind of ghouls that my imagination frightened me with as a child. The ghouls change into the skeletal figures of Auschwitz survivors that we see in old photos. I don't know why I'm going to Auschwitz, I don't think I want to see it. I don't know why I'm doing this whole trip, I don't think I want to do it. A novel idea has suddenly become reality and for the first time I feel really frightened. I feel a wave of panic about to spread across my whole body, but a triple shot of some spirit some Polish people gave me in the bar earlier kicks in, and I pass out.
I awake the next day and the hotel does my laundry, but the clothes I leave to go to the station with are still wet as apparently the price I paid didn't include drying. I only have my 40 euros now, so don't have the money to waste on drying. I move through the rain with my soaking belongings to the station to catch my overnight train to Krakow.
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