Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
Animals
on the car cassette player seemed perfect for the surroundings.
Voytek met us in Krakow that same evening. Having run out of zloty secretly
stashed from previous trips,I delegated Pete the job of changing some pounds with
reasoned that since Pete and Julie were touring Poland afterwards, they needed
the practice of a black market exchange to make their money last. I could not af-
ford to get caught by the special police.
When Voytek arrived, we had a meal in a cellar restaurant to the sound of gypsy
violins. We agreed the amounts of dollars he would need to cash for zloty and what
should be kept to cash in India, where we would again be able to change hard cur-
rency on the black market. In Poland we could expect ten times the official rate. In
India, I managed to get about twenty per cent above the bank rate but in much
more dangerous exchanges. The good news was that LOT, the Polish airline, was
flying the entire expedition to Bombay at a greatly reduced price.
The next day we drove down to Zakopane where we met the other Polish mem-
bers of the Changabang team. Krzysztof Zurek had a stature similar to Joe Brown,
small, compact and powerful. He had run up and down the 7,000-metre peak
Noshaq in eleven hours. His black unruly hair was a bit like Alex's. He had a
straightforward manner, lacking pretence or any need to impress. He was immedi-
ately likeable. Our doctor, Lech Korniszewski, was a nimble, intelligent man, with
a dignified carriage. Lech was a Himalayan climber in his own right and like
Zawada was part of the Polish upper classes, an extremely well known and respec-
ted doctor who later gained international recognition for medical research.
As part of Zakopane's 400th anniversary celebrations, the town held a boisterous
civic reception in the elaborate chambers of the town council. As we sat waiting for
the speeches and first course, Lech came round with a huge jug in his hands and
said: 'Would you like orange juice?' Expecting a dry affair of long speeches we had
primed ourselves with a few beers in a local café. How wrong we were. Lech filled
our glasses with a knowing smile. This orange juice was fifty per cent pure spirit.
By the evening's end, the numbers of speeches made were equalled by the bottles
of vodka consumed. I gave a thank you speech using my minimal Polish much to
the amusement of the mayor and his councillors. Fortunately, we had a couple of
days climbing in the Tatra to recover.
Voytek and I flew to Bombay, the only destination in India for which you could
buy a ticket in Poland. We took the slow train to Delhi next day, second-class. The
monsoon heat makes everything oppressive in August. We were also very hungry.
Part of Voytek's acclimatisation to the local germs and environment was to eat
