Delusions Deferred – A Trip Without Torun (Rendezvous With An Obscure Destiny #61b)

Every traveler has their limit. The moment when a trip turns miserable. The moment when thoughts of home become overwhelming. The moment when the traveler feels like they could lay down and sleep forever. For some, this moment manifests itself in irritation and barely concealed anger, for others it is accompanied by a dreadful lassitude that is synonymous with exhaustion. My travel companion and I were suffering a variety of self-inflicted travel induced ailments as we headed towards our next to last day in Poland. The tension was palpable and our grouchiness perpetual. There were longer periods of silence caused by an all-consuming fatigue.

An Unkind Word – For Want of Curiosity

All the excitement with which our trip to Poland started had completely dissipated. We were a mere semblance of our former selves. Gdansk, Berlin, Malbork and Olsztyn had taken all our energy. At this stage, curiosity was an unkind word. There was nothing left for us, not even the shouting. Weariness was registered in thousand-mile stares. This was not the way I wanted our trip to end. I yearned for a final hurrah. I began to wonder if we could marshal up the energy for such an effort or even if we wanted to. Doubts had begun to creep in. What would be the point of pushing ourselves beyond exhaustion. With one full day still left to us, I began to conjure up a plan for a trip to Torun.

The previous twelve days had been a whirlwind. The energy and enthusiasm that we had shown was nowhere to be found. Neither of us had to say a word. We were both ready for bed by mid-afternoon. Dreaming of a deep sleep and waking up stateside. That was not so much a dream, as it was a delusion. We still had a full day left on our agenda. How would we fill that day up? Would it be by sleeping in, relaxing in the guest house by reading all day? Perhaps go out for a short stroll? While these options were appealing, there was next to no chance that we would avail ourselves of such opportunities. Instead, I was planning one last trip. This one would be to Torun, a city that is situated astride the Vistula and known for its spectacular Old Town. The first order of business was figuring out how to get there from Gdansk.

Judgment Call - The Point of Purchase

We were back in Gdansk for the third time. This was to be our final point of departure for the trio of flights that would take us home. Nevertheless, we felt the need to make the most of the time we had left and were fatigued by the thought. These two conflicting emotions competed with one another, leaving us in limbo. I tried to ignore my fatigue, keeping the trip to Torun front and center in my mind. This was not easy. Doing anything at the end of a long trip always seems pointless. There is packing and planning, hurrying and worrying to do. It was my job to ensure that everything was in order prior to our return flights. I could have kept myself busy with just that. Instead, I focused on trying to force a trip to Torun. I convinced my travel partner we should go straight to Gdansk’s main train station to purchase tickets for the next day’s journey.

My companion went along with the idea of Torun because he trusted my judgement. At this point, he had more confidence in me than I had in myself. That was because all our previous adventures were successful. Our aimless wanderings and side trips were always illuminating. Going the extra kilometers each day had paid immense dividends. We got to see much more than originally intended. The trip had exceeded expectations every day. Unfortunately, past performance did not guarantee another successful outcome. Ironically, past performance was the problem. It had engendered a level of fatigue that I had not felt before. Torun would be the ultimate test of endurance requiring reserves of stamina that I doubted either of us had. Still, all we had to do was purchase tickets and turn up at the train station the next morning. That should have been easy enough. It wasn’t.

Just Say No - The Decisive Blow

Gdansk’s main train station was under construction. This turned out to be highly problematic for those looking to purchase tickets. No one was allowed inside. Finding the ticket window proved next to impossible. We walked beneath the platforms, on the platforms and around the station multiple times without finding it. I resorted to my usual strategy of asking passersby where we could purchase tickets. I got various directions that led back to places we had already been. This went on for twenty minutes. I became severely stubborn. My goal transformed from buying tickets for Torun. Into finding the ticket desk. My travel companion stood beside me in stoic silence. He must have thought I was crazy to keep trying. More worryingly, I thought I was crazy to keep trying. I spent less time conversing with him and more time talking to myself. The longer this exercise in futility lasted, the more the Torun trip became an afterthought.

Finally, I found the ticket desk and waiting room in a temporary setup that had the atmosphere of a place under martial law. People sat around looking just as hopeless as us. I was forced to take a number and wait my turn. By the time I got to the window, my interest in Torun had waned. The ticket seller rendered the decisive blow when he told me the time we would need to depart. This was much earlier than I had imagined. To make matters worse, we would be returning late in the evening. Just the thought of this defeated me. I consulted with my travel companion who was aghast at the thought of the trip taking up an entire day. I half-heartedly attempted to talk him into it. He was firmly against it. I felt relieved. This freed us from the maddening merry go round of constant travel we had been on for the past two weeks. The delusion of my travel companion and I traveling to Torun had ended. We could not have been happier.