Frustrating day walking around Warsaw, Poland

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High blood sugar can ruin your whole day if you let it. Add unhelpful diabetes psychology to the mix and you can really have a bad time. And if the city you’re in frustrates you with its half-assed lack of infrastructure or common sense, you might become enraged and have the worst day of your trip so far. At least that’s what happened today to me and Masayo on our first full day in Warsaw, Poland.

Our plan was to stroll about central Warsaw and check out Old Town. Most of Warsaw is new, since it was so thoroughly destroyed in World War II. Old Town is a recent restoration, but we were looking forward to it. It was a bit of a long walk from our local Metro station, Polytechnika, but we were looking foward to a nice perambulation.

Things began well – my blood sugar at 9:45 was 135 and we found a little cafe called Saint Honoré for breakfast. (We almost opted for a Starbucks until Masayo noticed the other one – we still haven’t been to any American chain places on this whole trip.) Nobody else was inside here on a Sunday morning, and we had a big window at our table through which we could watch Warsaw begin to stir, cars and buses passing by and the occasional pedestrian waving to others and strutting off purposefully somewhere.

I had an omelette with salmon, plus an eclair and coffee. I took my shot through my Bluff Works pants at the table, and it was a rather large dose. The eclair turned out to be a little lighter than I thought, however. I knew I’d need to keep an eye on my BG so it wouldn’t get low.

Little did I know how that one understandable notion would end up destroying my mood and diabetes later in the day.

First we had to return to the residential apartment we were renting through booking.com and do laundry. This is the sort of thing that should be done in the evening but we’re usually too tired so we use up a whole morning. Kind of a waste of time here in Europe in wintertime, when darkness comes early, but that’s how it is. At least the Scrubba laundry bag makes it pretty easy.

We strung up the laundry to dry all around the room and headed out, walking 1 km to Warsaw’s central area, Centralna. On this walk you pass big, stately buildings and quaint-but-sturdy apartment buildings and lovely churchyards. A lovely Sunday so far.

The heart of Warsaw is dominated by the gigantic Palace of Culture and Science, a controversial structure (some say eyesore) built by Joseph Stalin as a kind of unrequested gift to Varsovians. It’s the tallest building in Poland. Personally, I liked it.

Things were stirring around the Palace, and we made it through some crowds inside to the information desk. The girl there said we could go to the top of the building and take in the view over Warsaw for about $6. Sounded nice but there were already dozens of people lined up and we didn’t want to wait. We’re travelers – we can do this on Monday when the crowds are much smaller! We said we’d come back tomorrow for the superview over the city.

Behind the Palace, beside a cheerful fountain with strong jets of water coming from lions’ mouths, I checked my blood sugar which was 86. Seemed a bit low for so soon after breakfast, especially in light of the walking we were planning on doing.

A minor point, but one that I let fester until it made me crazy.

For the time being we kept walking, looking for Old Town which is about 3 km from Centralna. I never found a tourist office, and had no map, so we guessed based on vague memories of online research yesterday.

The walk was nice, going through large parks and by quirky little shopping areas. Several people were out walking to and fro while the traffic along the main arteries had grown much thicker.

But by the time we were halfway to Old Town I had begun to really worry about my diabetes. Was that 86 a sign of a dangerous low? Was I dropping low right now? Was I going to pass out? Physically I felt fine, but mentally I was starting to panic.

Finally in an area full of gigantic government buildings I had to do something about it. I had snacks with me – I wouldn’t walk around anywhere without them, especially a large and unfamiliar city – but saw a place called Coffee Heaven. We went in, and I got a grilled sandwich and also drank a bottle of juice I was carrying.

And I convinced myself to take no insulin whatsoever; I just felt too weak and low.

Old Town, finally

Afterwards we stepped outside, and I seriously considered throwing in the towel and returning to the room. But we were close to Old Town, and as soon as we arrived I checked my BG again outside a stately red brick church. It was 133, which helped me psychologically somewhat. Clearly no reason to panic about being low, especially with the sandwich and juice still in my stomach and no insulin in my system.

Somewhat mollified, I walked with Masayo through Old Town looking for a tourist office so we could get a map. But even as we passed the amazing-looking buildings, all replicas of 18th-century structures, I paid virtually no attention to them. I didn’t feel well and didn’t want to be there. Plus there were a lot of crowds and tacky tourist stalls. Why are there so many tourists here in November? I muttered angrily.

Diabetes worry was clouding my judgment and mood severely. Blood sugar wasn’t the problem, only my fantastical interpretation of it.

We did see a few things, and I managed to take a few photos, but I really just wanted to make a beeline for the main road, find a tram or bus, and go home. Masayo, being unable to help and with a mixture of concern and exasperation, followed grumpy me as I guessed my way back to the highway.

We passed a kind of celebration of the world-famous Solidarity labor movement of the 1980s, with big banners and crowds, but even that didn’t make me stop. But finally we did get to the main road.

There were bus stops all around but the charts didn’t mention Centralna so we opted not to take them. (I really didn’t want to get lost in some completely unknown outskirt of Warsaw in my half-delirious state.) We just kept walking, vaguely homeward, me feeling worse and Masayo getting more irritated with me.

Bad to worse: Warsaw’s moron Metro station

The worst part of the day followed: we found an underground Metro station. This should have made it easy to go home; there’s only one subway line in Warsaw and it runs north to south and goes right to our building.

But Warsaw wasn’t going to make it that easy.

A guard at the station entrance on the sidewalk wasn’t letting people in. People were coming out but we had to cross two big roads to another, obscure entrance to go in. It made no sense at all, but we did it.

Finally inside, we couldn’t figure out how to buy tickets. The ticket machines had pieces of cardboard taped to them to make them unusable. But lots of people were coming and going through the ticket gates. How did they get tickets?

I was getting angrier and signaled to Masayo for us to go right through the gates, tickets be damned. We’d figure out the paying part later. It was just like the accidentally free bus ride we took when we arrived last night – we had money and were more than happy to give it to someone in exchange for using public transportation but nobody seemed to want it.

Down on the platform we waited with dozens of other people; we should be home soon! A TV screen coming from the ceiling said the next train going south was coming in three minutes, and the next four minutes after that. I felt bad, leaning against a pillar, but was glad that it wouldn’t be long now.

After several minutes I realized that that next train hadn’t in fact come, and now the next one was coming “in three minutes”. I watched the time count down: 1:30, 1:00, :30 … and then nothing. No train.

In fact no train had arrived in either direction. Then I noticed a little Polish phrase on the bottom of the TV screen which seemed to translate as “TEST SYSTEM”. Apparently there weren’t going to be any trains at all.

I flipped out, unbelieving of how annoying this was. Is this some kind of Metro station theme park? “Step right up! Enjoy all the fun of riding the subway, without the actual trains!” The platform had lots of people, apparently also waiting like us. Why were they there? I saw no signs (even in Polish) explaining anything, but eventually noticed a reference to “M2” — but the only actual Metro line in Warsaw, as far as I know, is called M1. Is M2 a new line, unknown to the internet? If so, why was it open but with no trains? Why would hundreds of people be so excited to see it that they’d make a special trip to go look at the platform, which looked like any other platform?

After angrily punching the concrete pillar, I trudged with Masayo back out to the sidewalk and asked a guard which direction Centralna was. I knew it was kind of far, but at least I knew we could take the M1 line back home from there. He told us and we walked glumly on through the overcast dusk, me outpacing poor Masayo who struggled to keep up. We were both tired, and I was apoplectic about our inability to get around without walking.

Finally limping into Centralna we went down into the Metro station. But the touch-screen ticket machines weren’t working; there was just a log in screen, like they had just been rebooted. And this time we couldn’t just walk through the gates without tickets like in the phantom M2 station; they were closed and the people using them all had cards. We had no cards and no way to buy them.

What was Warsaw trying to do to us?

I realized with resignation that we would have to walk the entire way home. So we did, stumbling through neighborhoods that had been so delightful in the morning. It was now after dark and I was hate-walking through Warsaw, dead tired and towing poor Masayo behind me.

Finally we arrived back home. Our legs were killing us, Masayo wanted to kill me, and I wanted to kill the people in charge of Warsaw’s head-spinning public transportation system. It seemed like a complete failure in so many obnoxious ways.

Of course as soon as we got home I checked my BG; I figured I’d be fairly low after walking ten miles without much food. Ha ha to that – I was 387.

No wonder I felt so bad – I’d achieved a new highest reading on this trip. I took a few units of Humalog and rested.

While trying to relax and come down I Googled the phrase “I hate Warsaw” and read some expat forum comments about Warsaw not quite being up to snuff yet. So it wasn’t just me. Anyway, Warsaw will have another day to redeem itself tomorrow but we certainly haven’t gotten off on the right foot.

Sunday is a quiet night but we knew that in a large European capital like Warsaw we could easily find dinner. Not so. Everything in our neighborhood was closed when we went back outside. Lots of people were around, but no restaurants were open. A Vietnamese place we wanted to try was closed. Come on, Warsaw.

Finally we found a place called Bobby Burger, with 100% all-natural burgers and fries. Next to it was a small grocery that was open. We got burgers and fries and some sparkling water. The guy at the burger place didn’t speak English but was super-nice, and really tried his best to handle our order. We liked him.

Back in the room we watched online videos and ate our burgers. It was nice to have something hot. I knew the fries would be bad news, especially after the day I’d had diabetically; I was still 220 before eating so I took a pretty large shot for them.

Not large enough — at 12:30 am I was still high, 246. I took a couple more units of Humalog, and went to sleep.

On this first day in town I was deeply unimpressed with Warsaw. It seems to have so much to offer but something isn’t quite right. Looking back on the day’s events, the main problem was my unfounded panic about blood sugar. When I was 86 I maybe should have had a half bottle of juice and left it at that; then maybe I could have enjoyed Old Town and seen a lot more.

But that doesn’t excuse the several buses and trams that don’t seem to connect to busy, nearby Centralna, nor the ticket machines that don’t work, and especially not the new Metro station that’s open, full of passengers, but has no trains, which I foolishly regard as the most important aspect of an underground metro system.

I’m over it now, but even typing in the story makes me upset all over again!

Well things can only go up from here. Warsaw must surely be better tomorrow, after we’ve had a chance to reset and my terrible blood sugars are hopefully gone.

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