The Polish Experience By Nicholas Westerby This ... - GetSab.Com

“I saw show about them.” She said.
“What do they do, pick up unexpectant foreigners drive them around in circles
then rob them?” I joked.
I shouldn’t have joked apparently. We saw the sign that I guessed was for me
Jomes Wallminsons. The women holding it was about five foot tall, short black
hair, glasses that made me think of Mr. Magoo and barrel-esque around the mid
section. Surprisingly her ankles and calves could have belonged to a
supermodel.
“Hallo.” She said as I approached her. “Mr. Val-im-son?”
“Er, I guess so but just call me James.” I said. “This is Elly.”
“Hallo Jam-s and Elly. I am Monika.”
She started to walk away so I began to push my trolley and Elly followed in
silence. She seemed to be taking it all in and actually for both of us it was our
first visit to Chopin Airport. It wouldn’t be our last and very soon it was more
familiar to us than the dentist or doctor’s office, well dentists at least.
Monika drove a little Nissan and though she and it were small, she drove like a
bat out of hell. She weaved between traffic on three lane roads as if it was an
intricate ballet and all the other drivers obliged in taking part as well. There was