“Off train,” commands a burly Polish Customs Officer, “Need Visa.” An armed guard is by his side. Escorted to the door, amid curious heads poking out from compartments along the way, I feel my face redden with embarrassment. “How did we miss the little tick indicting Canadians need a visa for Poland?” I wailed, pointing to the visa requirement section in “Lonely Planet”. My husband, Rick, and I stood motionless enveloped in the blackness of the night as the Poland bound locomotive pulled away. “Look, a train on that far track with a light on,” Rick said. As we...