"Is it raining? Yes, I had noticed"

In 1984 Norman E. Rosenthal formally named a condition still known today as Seasonal Affective Disorder, an acronym rather aptly referred to in the medical world as SAD. This 'condition' (must we really name everything that separates us from being Tom Brady?) basically means that the weather affects our mood. While I'm happy to acknowledge and encourage such things if they really do help the 'sufferers' to cope with their 'illness', Norman, mate, this might be a step too far. Not even Tom Brady enjoys training in the rain, and by thunder did it rain in Warsaw today. SAD or otherwise, I tried to make do in the wet by taking Peter up on his offer for breakfast and I made my way down to the square. In true legend style, Peter had been up for hours playing with his two angelic looking kids and we sat down for a bite. I ordered the scrambled eggs and the waitress duly brought 2 cold beers (view clip here). Peter called it 'the only way to start a Sunday'; I momentarily wondered if Peter was the greatest lad of all time.

After brunch I thought an afternoon at a museum would hit the spot on such a rainy day and I instantly googled 'best museum in Warsaw'. With mixed emotions, this produced several results as Warsaw can comfortably boast some of Eastern Europes's finest museums; hungover on a day wetter than an otter's pocket, I was hoping for a clear winner. Descartes famously argued that Free Will, contrary to popular belief, is not when you have many options open to you, it is when you have only one. Rene, today I was so on your side pal. I plumped for the Warsaw Uprising Museum as the most 'interactive' experience given that my relatively short attention span was even shorter than usual and would need a little hand holding. The afternoon's interactive experience came a little earlier than expected as my taxi driver seemed intent on uncovering my life history. Markus cannot be entirely held to blame though as I began by trying to ask for the museum in Polish. He answered in almost perfect English and we got in the car. He apologised that I would have to agree a cash price upfront; I replied it wouldn't be a problem at all but inquired why. He said, 'because my meter is like your Polish - it's not verking. Ha ha ha ha...'. I enjoyed that joke a lot; Markus and I were immediate friends. He continued by asking about my life and I told him the basic outline. He was surprised I lived in America but didn't have a job as such and then asked if I had a girlfriend. I replied that I did. He chortled, "Ha, so you do have a job then, ha ha ha....". It was tough to beat the first joke, admittedly, but this wasn't a bad effort. Markus remains the funniest person I have met so far.

As Brits we suffer reputational predisposition as much as the next country but to those that believe us a nation of queuers, kindly pop down to Muzeum Powstania Warszawskiego on a Sunday; I think you'll find that Poland gives us a serious run for our pound sterling. My Seasonal Affective Disorder was kicking back in with vigour as I entered the museum at 4:26pm having arrived shortly after 2pm. I passed the time by wondering what Peter would have done in this situation - had a beer probably. What a good lad.

The museum itself was and is remarkable, documenting (interactively as promised) the brave yet ultimately unsuccessful Warsaw Uprising of August 1944. The Uprising was the largest single military effort taken by any European resistance movement during the Second World War, but it ended after only 63 days in defeat for the "Home Army" (as they were called) and the demolition of Warsaw. Despite its antiquated look and feel, Warsaw is very much a new city by European standards with 85% of the buildings rebuilt once the war was over - an incredible achievement and it's only right they should take such pride in their resilience.

Feeling the need for some positive influence, I went back to the spot where Patrick plays but being late in the day and still drizzling, it was not a surprise that he wasn't there. Shame - I would have loved to have seen him one more time and said goodbye. I then made my way back to Olga's apartment to rest and write this. Despite today's grey overtone, I've really enjoyed my time in Warsaw and would highly recommend anyone to come here. Perhaps I'm way off the mark here, but I think Poles have an unfair reputation for being unfriendly - somewhat understandable though given their history. It's true they don't offer smiles as immediately as, say, folks from South Dakota (I can attest), but it's my finding that you are only a word or two away from one and they seem very willing to accept foreign company. I'm going to miss Olga, Peter and Markus and I will forever wonder what will happen to Patrick; I really hope he sees his name in lights one day; he sure as hell deserves it.

I didn't need to watch my use of superlatives today. This particular Sunday was pretty ordinary.