Radiohead: Part II - Preconcert

17:43
Back home in my flat, I sit at my desk, writing an email to my four brothers, wishing they could join me for the concert. I sip żubrówka, a bison grass vodka known for its distinct taste and its important role in Somerset Maugham's classic novel, The Razor's Edge. I've added a bit of apple juice, a concoction affectionately known in certain circles as szarlotka, and notice the alcohol taking its effect rather quickly, as I've had little to drink in the past month. Today is a deserved exception.

18:08
I stand on my balcony and glare out beyond the railing, enjoying one last szarlotka before heading to the Cytadela. The sun is low, threatening to fall behind the tenament blocks across the street. The early evening air is warm. Thom Yorke takes the stage in just less than three hours. It's strangely quiet here on the south side of the city, peaceful. Some children play with a football in the courtyard, their shouts echoing across the small street. A few pedestrians return from work or from purchasing groceries for supper or the next morning's breakfast. I make note of the stillness outside, committing it to memory. At the Cytadela the atmosphere will be entirely different.

18:50
I sit at the bus station, having walked the some 500m from my flat, across the square, past the beautiful St. Mary's church, and through the daily market where I buy fruit and vegetables. I wait for the 71 bus while studying some Polish vocabulary cards. 18:55 comes, though the scheduled bus does not. A young woman walks by, pushing her four-year-old child in a stroller. I ask her about the status of the bus, and she assures me that it will come - "na pewno." According to the posted schedule, the next is at 19:10. That'll do fine as well, I think, and return to my vocab cards.

19:21
I arrive at the stop "Polonez," deboard, and join the buzzing stream of people flowing up both sides of the large boulevard, Aleja Niepodległości. Across the street the stream of fans ascends the stairs to the Soviet obelisk and into the Cydatela park. A blue "policja" van is parked in front of the staircase, a couple officers maintaining order as the crowd crosses the street. I take a photograph.

19:30
Halfway up the stairs, a glance down one of the terraced side pathways reveals concert-goers relieving themselves. Most are behind trees; a few behind gravestones. On the stairs, some still sell extra tickets. Lots of them, in fact. 40,000 is the number I heard for how many were expected at this, the first-ever concert at the Cytadela under the open air. Polish is almost the only language I hear in the crowd around me. This makes me happy, though I expected otherwise.

I walk around before entering. Most people seem to be standing outside the main gate, it seems, drinking, eating, waiting for bathrooms, before entering the concert gate...(more later)