An Ample Apology

Well, not so ample. Yes I am aware that I haven't updated my blog in nearly two months, but as I recall, I made no promises to write every day or week etc. Actually, I went back onto blogger.com to delete this blog. I don't really know why I didn't go through with it, but if you enjoy reading my words which are so inferior to those of my heroes, such as Oscar Wilde, Sylvia Plath and Leonard Cohen, then be happy.

So yes. I left Budapest feeling Hungary for more, but alas, my Easter break was over, and back to school I had to go. However, in the month-and-a-half since, I have travelled more. I have been back to Krakow and Wrocław (that's pronounced Vrroh-tswaav by the way. My parents seem to be having particular trouble refraining from saying Roh-claw no matter how many times I write it phonetically for them), and this weekend, I am going to Gdansk. Yes my New Zealand sisters, brothers and any other random Joe who reads this blog, you have to come to Polska.

I know one thing, a few weeks ago, I learnt the meaning of suffering. I saw Auschwitz, and I'm sure that whatever you imagined it would be like, it's worse. No one talked, no one said a single word, and I glared at this one man who took a sneaky photo where they asked him not to, and caused a look of shame to show on his face. I myself didn't take a single photo. Major suffering happened there, so much that hearing about it made me want to be sick, and also made me want to kill Hitler. I still would, just give me a time machine. So anyway, after spending money to feel miserable, I bought a couple of pictures from the store nearby, where a very cute old woman was absolutely ecstatic that I spoke in Polski to her.

So although the only thing worse than going there as a tourist would be to go there as a prisoner back in the 40s, I think everyone should go to Auschwitz. I've been told by a couple of the English teachers at my school that Polish children today still have nightmares about Nazis, even though it's sixty-five years later. That's how affected the Polish were by this. The worst nightmare I ever had was when Errol Flynn forced me to dye my hair orange. I don't think it really compares.

So yes, this has been a bit of a melancholy blog, now to listen to some Nick Cave and watch a Chernobyl documentary to really make me want to kill myself.

Love you all,
Do Widzenia, Kate :)