The root-canal of all evil

Gdansk

The trip did not start well. Getting to Dublin Airport was fine – I was in plenty of time. Upon arrival however, the airport resembled the seventh circle of hell. There were so many people. All security gates and check in areas were open. I guess it just means that Dublin Airport is too small for purpose. I took a deep breath and decided to remain calm. No point in getting stressed. Going through security my 125 ml tube of toothpaste was confiscated for being oversize. Naturally I was randomly selected for a search by a security guard. This is almost inevitable for me at this point. I never carry contraband, but for some reason I always inwardly panic at this point. Out with anger, in with love.

 The flight itself was non-eventful and landed twenty minutes ahead of schedule. Those Ryanair flight attendants really do engage in the hard sell. No I don’t want your crappy lottery tickets – we all know that your ‘charity partners’ get about 5% of the proceeds. Nor do I want perfume. I will have a coffee though – I wasn’t feeling as adventurous as the woman seated next to me who enjoyed three gins and tonic on the two hour flight.

Upon arrival in Gdansk I hailed a cab to my apartment in the old town. I stood outside the house and got to thinking. Perhaps I ought to have rang the host to see how I was to be admitted. I switched on my mobile phone and was denied access to a Polish telecom network. I switched on the Wi-Fi and entered the Airbnb host’s number into WhatsApp. Of course he was not on WhatsApp. I sent him an email, and went for a walk. It was about 9.30pm at this point. I passed the supermarket I had shopped at on my previous visit. It was closed early being a Sunday night. I returned to the house and read the instructions on Polish on the intercom. I used Google Translate to make sense of it. Access denied.

At about 10pm, feeling hungry I went for a walk, and passed a pizza shop. I entered, ordered a Margarita Pizza and borrowed the telephone from the friendly young woman serving the food. I called my host, who told me that he was not in town and that he had already emailed me instructions on how to get into the house. I tried to sound all official and asked him to call me back on the waitress’s number in ten minutes. I checked my email. Lo and behold, there was the email. He was right. I thanked the woman profusely, and confirmed to the host that all was sorted when he phoned back.

I skipped gaily towards the house, entered the code as instructed. Nothing happened. I tried again. The metal gate would not budge. I varied the numbers. Zilch, I was still locked out. A comely young man passed me on the street, so feeling like an idiot I asked him to help. He entered the number – it didn’t work for him either. He was in giddy form, having had a few beverages. He allowed me to use his phone to ring the host again.

Host was all apologetic saying that someone must have manually locked the gate with a metal key, denying me entry. He told me of a secret other entrance, so with my Polish chum by my side I went and found it. I gained access. It was a miracle. I bade the Polish man farewell and went to bed.

It was an early start today. I had a root canal treatment that lasted from 9am to 11am. I feel like I have been through a boxing match. Finished dental work for the day now. Hopefully I will be having a crown fitted tomorrow.

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