In a move that would have made Caligula smirk, Poland has revived its notorious bus route 666 – the so-called 'Highway to Hel'. The destination is the delightful seaside village of Hel, a name that sends shivers of schoolboy sniggering down the spines of British tourists. And flock they do, for nothing says 'holiday' like a bus ride bearing the number of the Beast, bound for a place that sounds like the underworld’s holiday resort.
This is not the first time the Poles have played with fire. The route was suspended in 2006 after complaints from religious groups. But now, with tourism revenues in dire need of a shot in the arm, the authorities have resurrected the infernal service. The irony is delicious: a country known for its devout Catholicism embracing a symbol of evil to fill its coffers.
The British, of course, are delighted. We are a nation that loves nothing more than a dash of the macabre. We queue for ghost tours, flock to Jack the Ripper walks, and now we can add a bus ride to Hel to our list of cultural achievements. It is a perfect marriage of bad taste and good marketing.
But let us not be too cynical. There is a deeper current here. This revival speaks to a Europe that is increasingly comfortable with its pagan roots, a continent that has traded its Christian guilt for a smirk and a ticket to ride. The fall of Rome was preceded by a similar decadence: a fascination with the exotic, the grotesque, the transgressive. We are no different. Our empires have crumbled, our faith has withered, and now we seek thrill in cheap symbolism.
Poland, once the bastion of Christian Europe, now sells tickets to Hel. What next? A tour of Sodom and Gomorrah? A cruise to the River Styx? The Victorians would have been horrified. They knew the value of a good moral panic. But we are post-Victorian, post-Christian, post-shame. We live in an age of irony, where nothing is sacred except the laugh.
So go ahead, take the 666 bus. Laugh at the joke. But remember: when you board that bus, you are not just a tourist. You are a symptom of a civilisation that has lost its capacity for awe and fear. Hel, after all, is not just a village. It is a reminder that the road to damnation is paved with good intentions – and a cheap bus fare.
