A night in the park

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I wake up at about 6:30, probably due to the missing rain cover on the tent. Chances for rain are virtually zero at the moment, during the day temperatures of around 30 celsius make getting far very hard. It's the evenings when we get the most cycling done, even in the morning it's too hot to cycle comfortably.

First, we reach Chelmno, a lovely small town, located on a hill (which makes getting there a bit of a pain). After yesterday's flat tyre, I need to get a proper spare tube, and we go looking for a bike shop. The one shop listed in our guide opens at 10am, which would mean an hour-long wait. We decide to use the morning hours and continue on the Grudziadz instead of waiting.

A friendly Polish man on his bike helps us find the way out of town by cycling with us for a few kilometers. Generally, the Polish are very helpful and open to meeting people - which shows itself again in Grudziadz. Under a bridge, we decide to take a break and wash in the river, when a Polish man with beer and cigarettes shows up and starts talking. He seems to ask about the bikes, I try to explain what we are doing, but neither of us manages to get across what we want to say. Nevertheless, he spends an hour sitting next to me, talking relentlessly, with an occasional expression of frustration when he notices that I don't understand a word of what he is saying. Finally, we go through my dictionary and he reads me a few words, helping me make (very little) sense of the impossible Polish pronounciation. In the end, I hold a sheet of paper with his number in my hand. It would take a few more Polish lessons before I'd be ready to make that call though...

Being a larger town, Grdziadz poses the same problem Bydgoszcz did yesterday - finding your way out is a pain, especially as the R1 is signposted very poorly here. Finally, we make it out of the town, but we were too impatient: it's still too hot to cycle, we have to stop every few kilometers to take a break. On one of these breaks, my bike falls over with the bar bag open, camera, books disappear into the long grass on the side of the road. I collect everything and we continue on to the next village, where a break is in order. When I decide to call Nadine and go looking for my mobile to get her number, it's gone. Hans quickly suggests that it must have fallen out of the bar bag and disappeared into the grass. My head starts spinning: what now...whose number do I remember? I have been sending Nadine messages throughout the trip, now I can't even remember her phone number...damn mobiles, make you so dependent on them! I unload the bike and go racing back to the spot where the bike fell over and - sure enough - my mobile is waiting for me in the grass. Close one!

We continue on along the Weichsel-dam, when we come across a lovely lake with a beach full of people, cars, and even a horse - time for a break! Off into the water, clean up. By the time we head off again, it's already half past eight, the next city (Kwidzyn) is still about 20km away, no doubt we will find a nice spot to pitch the tent on the way. Leisurely, we stop by a Sklep for some dinner, enjoy a beer and some sausage, cheese, and bread in the evening sun. Life is good!

As we continue into the evening sun, one farm gives way to another with no forest or unused land in between, all the way to Kwidzyn. For myself, I decide that it's time for a bed and push on to the town, while Hans is still convinced that we will find a place to pitch the tent somewhere, maybe in the park. We reach the town and start looking for a hotel. The first one we try (Maxim) has no rooms available, the second is too expensive. I remember a sign "Noclegi" on our way in, decide to try there. No reception to be found, the sign is attached to a house with a phone number on the door. While I think about what to do, Hans opens the door, walks in and walks straight into the first room he can find, waking the person who sleeps there. When finally a window opens upstairs, we get a clear "nje" as an answer to my question for a room. And so we head for the park...

I don't like the idea of sleeping in a park at all. Wild camping, yes, but pitching a tent in a public park is slightly fishy. Too many worries...what if someone finds us and calls the police? How can I defend myself with my nonexistent Polish? What if we get robbed? We wait until dark, pitch the tent and quickly slip inside. I lie awake for a long time still, listening every sound. At some point, a group of girls finds us but continues on, giggling about the strange sight. Finally, I somehow manage to drift off into a light sleep...

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Photos

Breakfast
Breakfast in the woods. Coffee and old cake...what better is there?

View across the Weichsel
The bridge across the Weichsel in Grudziadz.

Under the bridge
Taking a shower under the bridge...

Lakeside scenery
A car, a horse, and a lot of Polish people near Kwidzyn.

Park Hideout
Only two tiny trees as cover: our "room" for the night.