Once again, and to no great avail, Jak and I found ourselves in the midst of the city this chilly Sunday – something normally to be avoided since weekends for people are like full moons for werewolves. Everyone comes out and they all head to the same places – same cafes, same restaurants, same streets. Today, however, the city was surprisingly empty (thank goodness) and though, for one brief, very cursory, regrettable moment we wondered if we had been blacklisted and missed out on a secret memo informing other Warsawvians of a party that we so weren’t invited to, it turned out to be utterly delightful to not see 500 other people waiting for the same table at Charlotte that we had been eyeing for the past 30 minutes.
As we were walking around the newly converted ghost town, I spotted two cats sunning themselves on a windowsill (my eyes have a tendency to locate all kitties in the vicinity, no matter how well they are hidden). One of the kitties was utterly repulsed by my presence – she would duck down, then peek over the edge to see if I was still there (I was).
Then we proceeded to discover a wall covered in graffiti, cartoons and posters. Somehow, this random mess by hooligans turned out to be a harmonious piece of artsy work (not artwork).
Finally, we stopped by Samira for the best hummus (and quite delicious salad) in the city. The restaurant is next to a base camp for trash trucks. Read: grunge. But this is for its own benefit, as it remains far away from those trend-meisters who normally clog up the world. If you come to Warsaw – go here.
I finally got around to secretly downloading instagram on Jak’s phone, and couldn’t help but take photos of everything in sight, much to Jak’s irritation. Now can someone answer the question that has been hovering around my head all day: why is everything a cat does heart-wrenchingly adorable?