Inside Wolin National Park, 06-07-2001. My legs look like bloody stumps full with swellings and scratches, little bloody bites and lots of red spots. I have got to give it to them...Polish mozzies aren't anything but persistent...up and down my uncomfortable legs go on the pedals of my bicycle. I'm well on the way now to the Baltic Sea cycling through fields full with crops, the air heavy with the odour of ripe corn ready to be harvested. Small patches of temperate forest that seems to become more prominent the further north I cycle, and temperate forest slowly giving in to pine, small and bigger lakes with white swans, ducks and coots, blue colored king fishers diving into the water and emerging in mere seconds with a fat catch. The religious catholic nature of the Polish
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