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A Train Jounrney from Warsaw to Gdansk and travels around PolandMy first impressions of Poland were, by and large, completely as expected. Not only are there the omnipresent fading embers of a communist system that never found its socialist footing, but even more apparent is the strongly rooted Catholicism which so famously contributed to the downfall of the Soviet stranglehold. Whilst walking to my apartment, after a particularly gruelling train ride from Warsaw (a completely different story I'm afraid), up the countless concrete steps and past the local church, I felt a sudden itch in my groin. After correcting my crotch, I noticed a pottering Slavic lady looking distrustfully in my direction, whose next move was to ‘cross herself', as if begging forgiveness for my shameful act of indulgence. If the language barrier hadn't been quite so prohibitive, I would have kindly explained that I was not the geriophile-pervert I seemed, and was merely responding to God's wish. Unfortunately, and more damningly, all my monolithic Polish could muster was a ‘ Thank you' . The Tri city area in the north of Poland is almost exactly what one would expect of Eastern Europe in 2006; vibrant, chilling, passionate, derelict, beautiful, evolving and stagnant - basically, adjectives which are as contradictory as they are apt. The ‘cities' making up the Baltic trilogy are the well-documented Gdansk , and its lesser-known sisters Sopot and Gdynia . The advantage of the relative proximity of these places is manifestly evident on even (and maybe most strongly) the shortest of stays. Whilst Gdansk provides the historical and most aesthetically stunning of the three, Gdynia counters this with sheer metropolism and variety of modern amenities. Sitting, both metaphorically and geographically, in the middle of these two, Sopot is one of Poland 's foremost seaside towns, and boasts wonders of architecture and a generally relaxed atmosphere. My lodgings being in the aforementioned Navy-town of Gdynia , I decided that my stay required at least one outing to Gdansk , and I set off at 10am . My mode of transport was the relatively uninspiring SKM local train line, which failed to make much of a positive impression, what with the shiny red plastic seats and faintly urine-like aromas. After 35 minutes of similarly bleak landscape (mainly concrete buildings adorned with graffiti), and wondering if the beauty of Poland was all just a post-1989 tourist board myth, the train drew into Gdansk Glowny' station. To the non-Polish speaking Englishman, the word Glowny seems to invoke humour, despite meaning, when translated, ‘ main ' or ‘ central '. My suspicions are that this must be at least partly due to it sounding rather similar to the English word ‘ Clown '. This is an observation which first struck me whilst watching Schindler's List , a movie which begins with a shot of the ‘ K rakow Glowny' sign. Now, I'm sure you don't need telling that this is one of a handful of films which it is (quite rightfully) considered bad taste to laugh during, and so my sniggers were sympathetically stifled. For those intent on still seeing Spielberg's Holocaust Opus, a word of warning, it contains NO clowns. Gdansk itself holds a great position within the history of twentieth century Europe . It was not only the city towards which the first shots of World War II were fired as the Third Reich began their invasion of Poland, but also saw the Solidarity uprising of the 1980s. Beginning in the City's shipyards, this was the hard push that the Domino Rally of Soviet imperialism could not withstand. Essentially, it is the city whose siege gave birth to fifty years of turmoil, and whose populace's courage and determination in the face of a stronger force helped to end it. The picture postcard tall buildings that line the streets of both the old and new towns perfectly encapsulate the fairytale mood of this town – I'm pretty sure at least one of them was made entirely from Gingerbread. This is all the more impressive when you discover that, because of Nazi and Russian atrocities, the entire city was, like Warsaw, rebuilt from the ground up, with an estimated 90% of the ‘Old Gdansk' reduced to what nearly every known guide to the city describes as a ‘ pile of rubble and brick dust ' by the time the Soviets claimed control in 1945. The dedication to the cause of reconstruction has, it is a pleasure to say, paid off in terms of the visual appearance of the city today, with its unique character attributable to its mixture of old relics and more modern expertise. The Town's main street is simply named ‘Long Street', or Ul. Dluga . A road of incredible mystic charm, its pull is such that the background noise which is in existence seems to simply cease. Ok, so I know that's not strictly possible outside of a vacuum, but it's the only way to describe the relative silence . This may owe a great deal to the mesmerising allure of the shop fronts and elongated buildings, decorated with any manner of designs ; from frescos depicting some sort of medieval last supper to mini statues of armed guards watching over the entrance. Parts of Germany , Austria and the former Czechoslovakia have streets of a comparable style, but once I had walked into ‘Long Market' ( Dlugi Targ ) – a huge ‘town rectangle', it was clear that this is somewhere very special indeed. Immediately, I was drawn to Dlugi Targ's centrepiece – a fountain of Neptune . ‘ Centrepiece ' is a misleading word, with it being in fact placed in the corner of the market, bit it is the definitive attention grabber. With his trident apparently striking those who dare betray him, he is also a slightly unnerving sight to behold. 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