Having a wide road

The pixels had hardly turned white when I typed: "I have stopped indicating rain: it's summer", or grey clouds gathered over Wroclaw and treated the city on rainshowers and stormy weather for the rest of the day. And the day after. So no outdoor cinema with Chaplin, but a great indoor screening of 'Stranger than fiction', in which the main character, superbly played by Will Farrell, realises that he's actually the subject of a story written by an author with writer's block. He knows this because he hears her describing his everyday life very accurately and as one can imagine, this constant narrative voice drives him crazy. When he asks someone for the time whilst standing at a traffic light he hears the narrator suddenly say: "Little did he know that this action would lead to his sudden and emminent death", he despairs. From that moment on, he decides to stay at home and do nothing but watching his television. The author solves this "problem" in her story by writing a couple of construction workers into his life, who come to his house with a big crane that breaks through the walls in order to take his television set away. Great scene, and I think they should do this to more people in order to get them away from the big screen.

So my travel continued with rain. I was too confident that it would be nice and sunny all the time. Also the wind direction changed somewhat, so the elements were more challenging than the first couple of days.

The route:


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Statistics (overall, it gets a bit tedious otherwise):
Wind: 3
Speed: up to 40 km/h
Cyclebeasts: none to my regret (not many bike riders in Poland, apart from some old village people that ride children's bikes, just fast enough in order not to fall, and some city slickers on fancy mountain bikes when you get close to big cities)
Rain: 2 (sigh)

Nevertheless I made good progress. In Wroclaw, my host Krzysztof and I cycled around town (good thing about travelling by bike, everywhere you come you can go and sightsee on your own bicycle!). Especially the neighbourhood Nadodrze (above the river Odra) made an impression on me. It consist of old German buildings that haven't seen much renovation during the last decades. Some of the facades still have bullet holes in them, as a silent memory of the struggles this town has witnessed.



From Wroclaw I cycled to Opole, a pretty provincial town where I met with Aurelie and her family. They came from France years ago to start a business in Poland, and after the first 'get-to-know-each-other-a-bit-better' phrases, we realised that we are almost neighbours in France. "Le monde est si grand et si petit a la fois", Aurelie summarised. During the day, her parents invited us for lunch that lasted for the whole afternoon. It was great to taste good wine from the Bourgogne and speak about... Well pretty much everything. Aurelie's brother, Jean-Mathias is about to go on a travel to New Zealand for which he thoroughly prepared. He showed me how to make a cooker from a can. Well, a beer can because they are apperently of better quality. The demonstration therefore started with: "You open the can and drink the beer." After this, you cut the upper part of the can, and the bottom part and you place the upper part in the bottom part. Then you make small, regular holes with the tip of your knife, about half a centimeter under the rim, and when you've done all this, you put some alcohol in the can, light it, and after ten or so seconds it will burn like a gas stove. Simple but efficient. Thanks for the demonstration J-M, and all the best for your journey!

A couple of days after I had left Opole, I received a message from Aurelie, saying that my surname is actually very typical for the moment. Rower, pronounced as 'rover' means 'cycle' in Polish, so whenever I introduce myself, I actually say: "Hello, I am Koen Cycles."

From Opole I continued to Siemianowice, a town in Upper Silecia. It is part of a conglomorate of cities that reminded me of the Dutch Randstad. About six or seven cities have grown into each other, which comes with a spaghetti of roads. Veeery confusing to cycle through, and so it could happen that I found myself on a three lane highway at one point. After a long search and many times of asking for the way (which usually goes as follows: I ask a young person in English where to go to, who most of the time understands me but has no clue his- or herself, so he or she then asks an old(er) person, who doesn't speak English, but does know the way, and then a triangular discussion starts between me, the old person and the translator).

In Siemianowice I stayed with Natalia and her mother, which was great. A tasty meal, a great musical connection (and exchange) and nice night out in Katowice's Jazzclub Hipnoza. Speaking of music, this trip like most others creates its own 'official soundtrack' and some of the music of this evening fits the track list. One song especially has given me a lot of relief whenever traffic gives me a hard time and I have to stop for a moment to unwind (thanks for the great tunes you've given me Roos!):



In the morning when I was about to continue the trip, Natalia told me: "Szerokiej drogi", which translates into "Have a wide way". A great way to say goodbye I think.
On my way to Krakow I passed by the city of Oswiecim, which is characterised by a horrible traffic jam from all sides due to a newly built, incredible inefficient roundabout. Close to the city you find what nowadays is called 'Museum Auschwitz'. Words can't really describe what you feel when you are in this place, and read about its history on the information displays. It was an intensily sad moment. The picture shows a work of origami that a group of visitors of a Japanese second elementary school brought.

In the afternoon I continued to Krakow, where I could stay with a friend of a friend of Natalia, whose name is Kasia, and her boyfriend Aleksander (great how this trip created a chain reaction of nice people that were willing to host me!). We stayed at the Ulica Dietla, one of the main streets in the centre of town. Krakow is a beautiful place with dozens of churches (the amount of 'crosses' on my city plan is overwelming), a beautiful bohemian 'Jewish' quarter and great places to snack. Kasia, who used to be a city guide, introduced me to the famous 'zapiekanka' on the new square (Plac Nowy) of Endzior (see picture): a delicious toast with cheese, chives, and onion. Lateron we had the best icecream in town on the Starowislna on our way to the 'square of the heros', in the centre of what used to be the Jewish ghetto. Another sad aspect of history. As if the historical connotation isn't terrible enough, we saw two 'żule', the Polish word for drunkards, having a very violent fight. Well, one had a fight, the other was just sitting on a bench taking it on the chin.

In the evening we went to a barbeque hosted by Aleks' cousin Piotr, where we had great food, night frisbeeing (dangerous!), some beers and when they ran out, the notourious wodka... Adrian, Piotr's friend told me: "You drink like a 'curva' Russian", which I took as a compliment. What I was actually doing was drinking like a Pole, as the wise Napoleon had once called it. When he and his men were in Poland to fight the Russians, he noticed that his soldiers were suffering considerably from the heavy drinking, so he told them, if you really have to drink, do it like a Pole and eat at the same time. Like this the alcohol is absorbed by the food, which actually works. It was great to stay with Kasia and Aleks, who like to enjoy self-rolled sigarettes of sweet pipe tobacco. They also invited me to come and visit them in Rzeszow, about 160 kilometers to the east (about 90 kilometers, or one day of cycling away from the Ukrainian border), from where I am writing these words to you at the moment.

Before I got to this place, I visited Tarnow, a provincial town where I found yet another home-away-from-home in the village of Wola Rzedzinska. It was quite hard to find the address. By the time I got close, a man on a scooter wearing a red t-shirt with the phrase 'Take it easy', overtook me, looked over his shoulder, smiled and made a gesture to follow him. It was Kate's father, my host that invited me to an evening garden party. The next day Kate and her mother rode out with me to the next village from where my route started and gave me a terrific lunch, made of sandwiches, vegetables, sweet breads and 'chleb' (Polish for bread) with abricots and raisins. Kate, if you are reading this, say 'dziękuje' to your parents once more!

Well, that's about it for now. I know, again quite a lot... Hope you enjoyed it!