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  • September 9, 2013

    My Travel To And Arrival In Warsaw!

    September 8, 2013

    Profesional Debriefer Paul drove me to the airport after a ragging night out in the ghetto of Long Beach.

    Traffic was great Saturday morning and I was dropped off at the American Airlines terminal with no problem… and that’s when the problems started.

    The stupid “Self Check In” is nothing more than a mind fuck in futility.

    After typing in my flight info, it asked me to scan my passport.

    It didn’t read, so I typed in the information manually.

    The stupid machine then told me that I needed an agent to help me finish my check in.

    Great, there was one agent at the bag check in, with a line of six people.

    Fuck it, I cancelled the check in and waited in line.

    Going through security, I noticed they had one line break into two – one goes through a metal detector, the other they subject you to the porno X-Ray scanner.

    I thought it was great that they gave you a choice..

    Belt off, shoes off, all my shit in a container and I’m waiting in line for the metal detector and one of the TSA guys tells me to go to the other line.

    “You want me to go through that?” I asked.

    “Yes, Sir.”

    “I’ll take the pat down.”

    I was wearing my Albania hat; was he was profiling me?

    “Male assist! Male assist! We have an opt-out!” he yelled.

    So, he had me stand aside on these two outlines of shoes, as my stuff went through the X-ray and sat unclaimed for several minutes.

    Then, this big dude wearing latex gloves walks over to me and escorts me around the porno scanner and takes my stuff to a table on the side where he basically does a Police frisk down, without the part about slamming my head into a car hood and a few kidney punches.

    As he was feeling my inner thighs, my belt-less pants slid halfway down my ass, giving a day’s thrill for all the ladies watching.

    “Pull your pants up, and if my gloves don’t test positive for explosives, you’re done,” the TSA guy said.

    I had an hour and a half until my flight to Dallas Fort Worth.

    I sat at an airport pizzeria, drinking beer and listening to the chick next to me complain that there was garlic on her pizza.

    Why would anyone go to a pizzeria if you didn’t like garlic?

    The flight to Dallas Fort Worth was uneventful – no complaints here.

    There's an ashtray outside of each lavatory - why?

    There’s an ashtray outside of each lavatory – why?

    I needed to go to Terminal D; a sign pointed right indicating that that’s where I need to go.

    One of the staff pointed left and said, “That way is the quickest way to Terminal D.”

    “But the sign points the other way?”

    “Go left for the train.”

    The train?

    I’m going to be sitting for nine hours, I’ll walk.

    Dallas Fort Worth Airport

    Dallas Fort Worth Airport – the suckers took a crowded train, I got this part of the airport all to myself.

    The 777 flight to Heathrow in London was as nice as could be.

    I sat next to “Remy” from Lithuania who proceeded to give me the third degree about what I do for a living, why I’m going to Poland, etc.

    We witnessed a UFO over Detroit – video proof will have to wait for my return.

    There is something really wrong about being a pressurized Aluminum tube traveling this fast, this high and this cold.

    There is something really wrong about being in a pressurized Aluminum tube traveling this fast, this high and this cold.

    And then came transferring at Heathrow – I was warned it is one of the worst airports in the world.

    The only thing I found inconvenient was going back through security.

    With an hour and a half layover, I still had time to pound a few beers at the pub.

    Just like going to Albania, a bus picked us up to take us to the plane.

    Just like going to Albania, a bus picked us up to take us to the plane.

    Into the tube, and into the plane.

    Into the tube, and into the plane.

    I sat between two really hot chicks – a brunette to my right and a sort-of Paris Hilton look alike on my left.

    The flight was delayed an hour while some technicians repaired the hot water heater – as long as the beer was cold, I didn’t care.

    Two hours later, I arrived in Warsaw!

    Downtown Warsaw

    Downtown Warsaw

    I asked the lady at the currency exchange in Polish, if she spoke English.

    The best I can tell, is that she said, “No, but obviously you speak good Polish.”

    Mirek’s friend picked me up at the airport and drove me to my Hotel – MDM Warszawa.

    I called Greg, my contact for diving.

    On Tuesday, a man named Igor will be picking me up to go to Cracow, and then North for diving.

    I proceeded to go bar hopping and got so wasted I actually barfed on the sacred streets of Warsaw.

    That part, sans the barfing, will have to wait for the video.

    One of the bartenders remarked about my Polish – “You talk so slow in Polish, I thought you were drunk when you first came in.”

    I slept until noon, completely comatose.

    At 6 PM, I met another one of my Warsaw contacts, Tusia:

    Tusia and I eat dinner in Warsaw.

    Tusia and I eat dinner in Warsaw.

    I got a prepaid disposable phone for use while I’m hear, but the interface is all in Polish.

    So, what did I forget when I packed?

    My C-Card; I hope that won’t be an issue.

    It is 7 AM on Tuesday as I write this; for the next few days, I’ll be traveling to Crakow, Gdansk and Hel.

    I will do my best to keep my three readers up to date on the diving here.


    1. Well done on the dinner contact Bro! Tusia……

      Comment by hearty pirate — September 10, 2013 @ 10:26 pm

    2. Jeff, my advice is to stay away from euro beer. Most euro beer is of very poor quality due to their liberal use of animal-by-products in their brewing formula. From early childhood most Americans are accustomed to drinking high-quality hygienically produced American beers such as Budweiser, and so their immune systems are just not prepared to tolerate the biological contaminates infesting the beer of European countries. In fact, scientifically speaking, most Euro beer doesn’t even qualify as real beer by the standards of the Geneva Convention. We know as a proud American patriot you are eager to show your drinking prowess in competition with the local peasantry, but be careful of their poisonous brews.

      Comment by Joe R — September 12, 2013 @ 9:41 am

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