Last Sunday, 10th, we had the annual bonanza that is the “Wielka Orkiestra Świątecznej Pomocy”, which I notice from the English tab on the website is translated by them as “The Great Orchestra of Christmas Charity” and is the nearest Polish equivalent to the UK’s “Red Nose Day”. A day when everyone goes bonkers and donates wads of cash to help people in need. This year the WOŚP is helping children’s oncology hospitals. So far they have promised income of over 36 million PLN with over 9 million already in the account.
We braved the blizzards and headed over to the Palace of Culture to catch some of the atmosphere and part with a little hard earned cash. Alvin the chipmunk was on hand to help lighten my trouser pocket:
We then positioned ourselves between the rasta and the zombie to enjoy the reggae music being played, rather well, by a band from Jamaica who’s name escapes me.
The lead singer was going on in a combination of patois, English and Polish that left most people wondering what the hell he was talking about:
But we had a view of the Palace of Culture and the lights were pretty so nobody really cared…apart from the snow, which was getting a bit much.
We wandered away, past the glowing snow-blown PKiN….
…and over to Zlote T where we decided to eat at the Hard Rock Cafe. It’s got no soul, the Hard Rock, and the food is plastic. It’s a shame when, like me, you have enjoyed the original Hard Rock experience at the first restaurant to open on Piccadilly in London back in the 70’s. Back then it was all new and exciting. The music was loud, the food was great and the service was superb. As is so often sadly the case, being taken over by a large corporation (in this case Rank) and an attempt at global domination has sucked the life out of the concept so all that is left is a shadow of what used to be. It’s just people going through the motions, following sanitised formula recipes and slapping Madonna’s bra on the wall isn’t enough.
We left the HRC and took a look at the skating rink just outside the door…
…before heading home.
Can we talk about the Rastafari movement? I love these events where reggae music is being played and suddenly everyone falls in love with the woolly hats, bass riffs, dreadlocks and the smell of weed. They smile at all the patois shouted at them even though, for all they know, it could be “All you white Catholics can kiss my arse!”. It more than often isn’t that though, it’s stuff like “We’re all one happy family….la.la.la.la…pass the ganja.”. Although the rastafari movement is about the most disorganised “religion” on earth it does have a few beliefs. I wonder how many of the weed smoking reggae fans are prepared to accept that former Emperor Haile Selassie I of Ethiopia was actually the second coming of Jesus, that Jesus was black, that Marcus Garvey was a prophet, that evil society (Babylon) has always been white-dominated and that paradise will be created in Ethiopia?
Actually there’s a couple there I can agree with! Pass the weed man :-/