Listen carefully, reader. The Poles have revived the number 666 bus to Hel. Yes, the pungent little joke that runs through the heart of Gdynia now carries passengers to a coastal town called Hel, and the route number, of course, is the Mark of the Beast. It is a trifle, a bit of dark humour, a wink to the tourists. But this is 2024, and nothing is a trifle. We are living in an age where the Roman Empire’s final decadence meets the nervous titter of a collapsing continent. Poland, the steadfast Catholic rampart of Europe, now offers a bus to the inferno. And the timetable? It runs right on schedule with EU disintegration.
Consider the context. The European Union is squabbling over migration, energy, and the rule of law. Hungary plays the spoiler, France burns, Germany flirts with recession, and Poland itself stands in a cold war with Brussels over judicial reforms. The eastern border bristles with tension over Belarus and Ukraine. And what do the Poles do? They resurrect a bus route that screams, ‘We are going to hell, and we know it.’ It is not a coincidence. It is the subconscious of a nation that has always been the battlefield of Europe now saying, ‘Fine, let us drive ourselves to the abyss.
But let us be precise. The original ‘Highway to Hel’ was a pop culture novelty, a parody inspired by AC/DC. The number 666 was a prank that the local authorities tolerated because it made people smile. Now, after a hiatus, it is back. The official reason is ‘increased demand for the route during the summer season.’ But increase in demand? For a road that leads to a town whose name sounds like the Norse underworld? The symbolism is too perfect. Poland, once the shield of Christendom, now ferries tourists on a number that every schoolboy recognises as diabolical.
You will object. You will say, ‘It is just a bus. Lighten up.’ But I am a columnist. My job is to see the patterns others miss. The revival of the 666 bus coincides with a spike in anti-EU rhetoric from the Polish government, with the Polish prime minister comparing the EU to a ‘federalist monstrosity.’ It coincides with the European Commission withholding funds from Warsaw over democratic backsliding. And here, the Poles laugh and say, ‘We’ll take the bus to Hel, thank you very much.’ It is defiance. It is a middle finger painted in the colours of the national flag.
Moreover, consider the road itself. The ‘Highway to Hel’ is not a highway at all. It is a winding coastal road, narrow, often clogged, leading to a sandy peninsula that ends in the Baltic Sea. To get to Hel, you must pass through Puck, a town whose name in English is a mischievous sprite. One might say Puck’s joke is on us. The entire route is a dark fairy tale. And we are living through a dark fairy tale. The EU is a bureaucratic fairy tale in which the princess (European solidarity) is sleeping, and no one can wake her. Poland is the court jester, now driving a bus with a satanic number to a town called Hell.
This is the intellectual decadence I warn about. When a nation resorts to self-deprecating humour about damnation, it has lost its sense of mission. Poland, once the bulwark against communism and Islamic expansion, now amuses itself with devilish bus routes. It is a sign of a nation bored with its own history, a nation that has forgotten what it means to be a serious power. The West, too, is bored. We have solved all the big problems, we think, so we play with symbols. But symbols matter. They seep into the collective mind.
Will the EU collapse? Perhaps not tomorrow. But the bus is running. And if you listen closely, you can hear the faint sound of AC/DC coming from the loudspeakers, mocking us all.
