June 21: Celebrating trip´s end in Jyvaskyla

It´s over. No more pedalling, no more hills, no more cokes or snickers. Despite misfortune´s best efforts in attempting to delay my departure from a cold and rainy Tallin - I had a flat tire en route to the ferry - I arrived in Finland on Monday afternoon.

The weather was just as cold and miserable in Helsinki. There was no accommodation left at the Helsinki YMCA´s hotel, so following an attitude adjustment conisting of Chinese food and hot tea we set off in search of the Rastila Hostel on the east side of the city. I do not think I have ever slept in a hotel/motel/hostel on its first day of opening before - but that is exactly what we did in the school turned Hostelling International site.

The next day it was off to Sysma and I found out the hard way that Finland is not as flat as I thought. Combined with the all-day headwind it was one of the harder days I have had on the trip and I had not geared down this low since coming through the High Tatras into Poland. After a long day in the saddle the night was spent at the Sysma campground - next to the lake. We ate pizza in bright sunshine at 10 pm.

The final day to Jyvaskyla was a relatively short one of 116 km. I was on the road early and enjoying the lack of wind. I zipped through the first half of the day, despite the continuing undulations of the countryside. My fastest speed of the trip was set (in Finland of all places) of 70 km/h. I was flagging by lunchtime and very pleased to see Lene with food around noon.

After an injection of caffeine and sugar in the form of Coke (what else?) I pushed on for the final 35 km into Jyvaskyla. The sun was out and I told myself to enjoy the final 90 minutes of cycling on back roads. At 2:30 pm local time I had arrived. By 2:45 it was pouring with rain and I was grateful to be inside and warm/dry. I had finished and though happy, all I wanted to do was sleep. No big celebration, just rest.

Today is Midsummer´s Day (Johannus in Finnish) and I will be celebrating: Food, drink, Sauna and watching the midnight sun.

Full updates for each day since Tallinn (and photos I hope) will be posted over the weekend I hope. However, as this is Johannus, most stores/cafes are closed from tonight on.

A big thank you to all who have made this ride possible and offered support throughout the last 4 weeks. I will write more soon, but now I hear the sauna calling my name!

June 16 - Tallinn

Woke up to bright blue sky and sunshine and little wind. Lene was sleeping so I made myself some coffee and went for a walk around the Olympic harbour.

Having cooked breakfast and taken my bicycle to the nearby store for a 'drivetrain clean' we ventured into the Old Town, taking advantage of the cheaper 'book' of bus tickets that the Swedish biker had told us about rather than paying the driver. With the good weather there were crowds of people in the city. We had deliberately not taken a map - instead opting to wander and discover the city be chance.

As usual I was hungry and having toured various cafes restaurants we settled on a traditional Estonian establishment, opting for the Estonian Sausage Feast. It was indeed a feast and most of it was bagged up and taken with us - the idea being to have a cooked breakfast of sausage, egg and beans on the morrow.

We continued to explore and gradually discovered all that Tallinn has to offer - craft shops, narrow cobbled streets, churches and other historic buildings, posing for photographs and making important decisions such as where to eat dinner tomorrow. For me, Tallin had much more to offer than Riga, though in fairness to the Latvian capital I did not make much of an effort to explore it.

Following a bus ride back to the marina it was time for grocery shopping to ensure our breakfast feast went off as planned. We returned to the tent where the wind had died down and were under a crystal clear sky. I slept well.

June 15: Tallinn

Woke up tired and wet. Had not slept much due to the noise from the storm - the coverings on the masts stored near me had rattled thoughout the night, the tent had shook, and one guidrope/tent peg had been blown out of the ground the ferocity of the wind had been such.

The precipitation had now stopped though the gail force winds prevailed. I took the opportunity dry what I could: the sleeping bag was strapped around the masts and thrashed around in the wind like a kite; my sleeping pad was tied around a tree facing the wind; the tent was staked out on its side faceing the wind - like a sail. I went to the bathroom and took refuge there, sending text messages and generally trying to get warm. I walked to the nearby grocery store to get breakfast supplies - it was 8:10, they did not open until 9!

When I got back to camp the Finnish couple were lying in wait and summoned me. They had prepared hot tea and a salami/cucumber roll for me! This was just what I needed. I was running on empty and the banana/apple I had eaten had been burned off long ago. No sooner had I finished than they packed up and left for the ferry port.

The wind was so strong my gear was now dry and I repitched the tent and stored the relevant sleeping equipment. I found the tennis club adjacent to the yacht club/marina and paid the 40 EEK for a shower. To wash in hot water and shave was truly a luxury. Decided not to sit in the sauna today but knew I would be back to enjoy this pleasure before leaving for Helsinki.

Two chocolate pastries, a baguette and fruit juice were purchased from the now-open store and I boarded a bus to town. Following some confusion as to where I was supposed to go, I made my connection to bus number 2 and was en route to the airport to meet Lene. The gray, windy weather had become sunny, windy weather but I felt desperately tired as I arrived at the airport.

Lene and I spent the rest of the day relaxing, eating pizza and grocery shopping. We chatted with the biker from Sweden as the sun set behind the masts - he had lived in Tallinn for 5 years and provided us with valuable 'local' information. When I could no longer keep my eyes open I went to bed.

June 14: Kabli to Tallinn - 214 km

Peter, Andrea and I looked at the flag blowing strongly in the wind and Peter said 'you might fly to Tallinn today.' At our current location the wind was blowing strongly in the direction of Estonia's capital city and if it did not change direction I would have a tailwind the whole way.

The Luck express was en route to Tallinn: having got slightly delayed due to a search for my sunglasses I screamed through the first 50 km at close to 29 km/h. This was awesome. Ever since I decided last night to 'go for it' and make Tallinn in one day, I knew a fast start was important and I certianly had done that. My speed continued most of the way to Rabla, past bonfires built to celebrate Midsummer's Day on June 21 and windswept landscapes. I loaded up on dinner supplies and was accosted by the local drunk in Rabla.

Though there were sections against the wind that made me work very hard, the tailwind accompanied me most of the way. Until the final 20 km that is. Then it turned and blew into me, bringing the rain with it. I found shelter and dressed against the elements. I rolled into Tallinn about 7pm.

Finding a campground proved harder than getting here. I found Kalevi camping which looked derelict and non-operational, even though the gate was open. I found the 'biker's bar' inside the grounds and a shaven-headed, goatee-bearded biker told me the campground was closed. He directed me to another campground, which I could not find. Instead a German couple told me I could camp at the marina. I pulled up, asked how much it would be and was expecting the worst. 'Three euros' was the answer! Deal.

No sooner had I pitched the tent and cooked dinner the storm clouds rolled in. The Finnish couple in the camper van near me beckoned me over and offered my some red wine. We communicated as best we could for about 10 minutes until the sky was black, the wind howling and rain was driving into us horizontally. They climbed into thier van, I zipped myslef up in the tent. I stayed dry for about an hour. I have never experienced a wind/rain combination so fierce from within a tent before. Rain was driven under the tent, between the fabric and ground sheet. The floor of the tent was soaked before I went to bed. I woke up with a wet back, wet head and wet legs. EVERYTHING in the tent was soaked by morning. The one consolation was that I was warm.

June 13: Riga to Kabli, Estonia - 130 km

I had wondered why the computer in the Y office and in Gunta's house was an hour fast. However, I was too tired to question this as much as I should have. Through various hand signals Gunta's mother had told me she would be leaving this morning at 6:30 am and then returning at 8:30 am. I, in turn, told her I hoped to leave at 9:30 am.

I awoke at 7:30 and went to the kitchen - Gunta's mother was there. Strange I thought - she was not supposed to be back for another hour. And then what should have dawned on me two days ago struck me like a hammer blow: I had changed time zones! (I did not expect this until Helsinki) I checked the clock radio - 8:40. I would not be on the road for 8:30. Oh well, I knew the road was flat and hoped the wind would favour (or at least not oppose) me and knew I had a relatively short 130 km day.

Somewhat unusually for a capital city I instantly found the correct road and was soon rolling up the A1 toward Estonia. The wind was kind and was cutting across me from behind giving me slight push. This was the first day of riding I'd had a tailwind. Thank you Mother Nature. I was running straight up the coast and it was not long before I saw the Baltic Sea for the first time. I stopped at a beach for a break and a photo.

I was making great time due to the good road surface and the tailwind and figure I would only be in the saddle around 5 hours today. Awesome. The road was not too busy though busy enough to prevent much looking around. I turned off onto a quiet road near Ainzi that led to a small border post with Estonia. Upon entering Estonia there were several small villages with brightly coloured buildings and I passed a couple of fellow adventure-cyclists.

Having averaged 26 km/h for the day I made camp early, before 6 pm, at a beachfront site and could hear the waves crashing about 60 metres away. The other cyclists pulled up and made camp. Following dinner we talked about the stunning array of alcoholic beverages available at petrol garages compared to the very limited non-alcoholic selection. And that the only refrigerated drink coolers that worked were the ones with beer in - a warm coke was something I was getting used to. Andrea told the story of buying a bottle of tonic water, only to notice once the liquid touched her lips that it was already mixed with vodka! Seeing 1-2 drunks a day was common.

We watched the sun disappear beyond the horizon at gone 10 pm and then tried to sleep under the 'white' sky.

June 12: Riga

Lazy day today. Had a long, relaxed breakfast and the apartment to myself as Gunta had travelled to Tallinn and her mother had left early to work at the church. I wrote in my journal before updating the blog again. Felt like I should visit the Old Town and explore the UNESCO World Heritage city, but I felt devoid of energy and preferred to sit and write rather than walk (very unusual for me).

Finally the need for food was overwhelming and I decided to eat in the Old Town as an excuse to get there and at least see some of what the city had to offer. It was a hot day and what little strenght I had seemed to be draining from me. I rejected the 'Dickens Pub' as a lunch option and after and extensive search settled for the less than traditional pizza option. Still it was cheap, good, filling and above all, was what I felt like.

The small part of the Old Town that I did see was beautiful, though I did not spend long there. I had other needs that needed to be taken care of while in a major metropolitan area (as opposed to out in farmland) - namely I had one shopping purchase to make and needed a haircut. With both these tasks accomplished it was once again back to the apartment and some rest time.

I could not figure out how to use the washing machine - all the dials seemed to be in the right places but it would not start. I called in resources in the shape of Linda, who was working in the Y office next door and seemed a sort of permanent 'drop-in' tenant at Gunta's to help. No use, the washing maching directions were not in Latvian or English - personally, I think it was Finnish as there were a lot of 'Us' next to each other. So, I waited for Gunta's mother to come home.

When she arrived she had strawberries, cakes and cookies from the church. She insisted I eat. Though I had eaten only a short while before I could not communicate this and also did not want to offend (that is my story..) So, I tucked in. Gunta's mother spoke no English and me no Latvian or Russian. It was frustrating not being able to communicate even the simplest things such as to thank her for her hospitality. I hope she understood I was grateful.

Finally the washing machine ended, clothes were hung to dry and it was time for bed.

June 11: Jelgava to Riga - 45 km

Woke up very tired and was simultaneously hungry with no appetite. If the breakfast bar waitress had asked me what I wanted I would have replied 'sleep'. Fish for breakfast was not really what I wanted and so I forced myself to consume bread and jam with strong coffee. My appetite was obviously returning as I cleaned them out of bread!

It was still raining when I claimed my bicycle from 'left luggage' and began the short ride to Riga. It was an easy trip on the busy A8 road and though there was serious congestion once I crossed the river I found the Old Town without any problem. Now the fun started - how to find Gunta and the YMCA? I could not remember the acronym for the YMCA in Latvia, could not locate the email from Gunta on my email, the YMCA Europe site does not have the updated phone number, and so on. Eventually the lady at the Information Center tracked down a cell number for the YMCA and I was soon speaking with Gunta.

I arrived at her/her mother's apartment/YMCA Latvia office a little while later having ridden the cobblestone streets. Gunta made lunch and then told me not to mind her 'normal' dog - Rex, the bulldog - who can become 'homosexual' around men! Great. In the absence of canine amorous advances I took the opportunity to update my blog and catch up on emails in the YMCA office. I proofed an annotation for a research paper on the theory/practice of non-formal education within the youth sector (focussing on the YMCA) and spent the remainder of the day eating and then sleeping.

June 10: Juburkas to Jelgava, Latvia - 202 km

I thought a bird was trying to peck a whole in my tent and was about to wack it when I realised it was the father of one of the birthday boys with my breakfast - leftover pork, rice/ketchup and salad. At 7:30 the sun was already hot and while this was not my ideal 'breakfast of champions' I got as much food down me as I could manage.

I did know what to expect on the road today, but feared the worst - for the entire day and tomorrow I would be bombing up the A12/A8 toward Riga. This is THE main road from where I was into Riga and was likely to be heavily trafficked with juggernauts thundering by within inches of me. The attendant at the gas station in Skaudville insisted on placing a 'Ļithuania' sticker on the trailer - no problem. I had been pleasantly surprised at the lack of traffic so far and pulled in to a pizza restaurant in Kelme for lunch. Despite its exterior advertising, no pizza was available! Still, a good lunch was had and I was on the road again with my head down for Siauliai.

The landscape had not changed in two days, the only thing new was that now I was looking at Lithuanian farmland and not Polish. I passed my four-thousand-seven-hundred-and-sixty-second cow and began to daydream: what if Lance Armstrong came by (there used to be a Lithuanian rider on the Discovery team) and joined me for a section. Then in an act of great generosity he would contribute to the cause monetarily and also hook me up with a full-carbon Trek Madone ride. Schweet! Back to reality and thoughts turned to the rest of the day's ride.

I had thought it was 130 km from Joniskis to Riga and had considered going on into Latvia tonight to shorten the distance tomorrow. However, the sign said it was only 90 km between the two cities if I stayed on main road. I was sold and decided to bed down for the night in Joniskis.

I stopped at the famous Hill of Crosses (where Christians defied the communist regime and demonstrated their faith be sneaking to this point and planting crosses of all shapes and sizes.) There are thousands if not millions of them. It is simultaneously unsual, amazing and incongruous.

The road to Joniskis can be described in one word: straight. If you lay a pencil on the map between Siauliai and Joniskis the road disappears and I could see the church at the end of the treel lined road from 20 km away. Joniskis may have been a busy, thriving city at one time. However, at 6 pm on a Sunday it looked lifeless - forlorn factories, overgrown lawns everywhere, hardly a soul on the street, no shops open, no gas station. And certainly no cheap motel or camp option. I rode on. There was nothing between here and border and I was in Latvia 45 minutes later. There was nothing in Latvia either except one gas station where I got water and chocolate - again.

The lady at the gas station suggested I try the next city, Jelgava for accommodation/camping. How far away is that?, I asked. Twenty-six kilometeres. I was now riding mapless - I had cut my maps before leaving Albania in order to save weight and room. However, as I had now deviated from my planned route I was 'off the map'. I ploughed on to Jelgava covering the distance in about an hour and arriving at 9 pm.

It was time for a hotel. I got directions to the hotel Zemgale but could not find it, instead pulling up at the Hotel Jelgava. For 25 euros it was a done deal and I showered and then thought about dinner. Though the city looked attractive I really did not want to go back out. I opened the window, set up the camp stove and for the first time cooked pasta in my hotel room - lovely!

Discovered I had no phone coverage in Latvia, which was a downer as I could not communicate with my hosts for tomorrow night - YMCA Latvia. Tried to call from hotel but obviously had wrong number. Was too tired to worry about it tonight. The good news though, was that while my butt was definitely the worse for wear, I was now only 45 km from Riga. Tomorrow would be nothing more than a warm-up.

June 9: Suwalki to Juburkas, Lithuania - 163 km

Woke up tired. For the first time I really did not want to get on the bike. Following breakfast of eggs, bread and water I was on the road at 10:30. First stop was gas station across the road for water/chocolate supplies and an additional sandwich to supplement breakfast. I was expecting not a fun days riding - at least early on - as I would be heading up the N8 into Lithuania and expected, heavy traffic and no shoulder.

Crossed into Lithuania with little fanfare - not even a welcome sign. I had decided not to take the smaller road from Kalvarija due to gravel issues the previoius two days. However, when I passed it and saw its blacktop running parallel it convinced me to turn back and explore the quiet country roads I had originally planned. Exploration lasted less than 3 km before the surface turned to gravel. I re-plotted route and vowed to ride only on ''ņumbered' roads from now on.

In Griskabudis I stopped at a gas station to escape the sun. I needed no supplies, but did need shade for a few mins. Dalius and his friends were hanging out there. We got talking (he had lived in England for two years). I had planned to stop for only 15 mins, but when they asked if I would like to try Lithuanian vodka, how could I refuse? Red vodka and orange juice were purchased and after the obligatory photo call I was handed a glass of each. I downed the vodka and chased it with the juice - tasted like cough medicine. Not unpleasant, but did not produce the burning sensation from the depths of the gut to the throat that I usually associate with vodka. I politely declined a second round and following more banter rode on.

In Sakiai I loaded up on dinner supplies for the night and purchased a very late lunch. Then it was back in the saddle and on to Juburkas where I planned to find a site to camp. No real options presented themselves so I rode on. Checked on one possibility and, despite insect spray, was instantly attacked by mosquitoes. Not a good site. Rode on. Was beginning to get slightly concerned about the lack of woods, camp options when I spotted a house with tents in the garden, teens in the adjoining field and adults sitting around a picnic table. I wheeled over and asked if they knew where I could camp. "How many nights?" they asked. Just one, I replied and after a short conference they agreed I could camp in their garden.

I had just crashed a double 15-year old birthday party. There were about 15-20 teens present, music cranking in the background, bonfire going and the adults enjoying thier own conversation around the table. Having made camp I was invited to the table for food and drink. While my food of BBQ pork, cold rice covered in tomato ketchup, salad and bread was being dished up I had a decision to make: vodka or beer? I choose vodka again reasoning it was the smaller alcohol volume. I did not bargain on 5 toasts! - to Lithuania, to Albania, to Friendship, to other things that I have no idea what they were other than an excuse to drink and get hammered (a point which a few had already reached).

There was plenty of conversation and I felt truly welcomed and blessed to have found such company for the night. I did not sleep much, maybe 4 hours, as the teens partied hardy long into the night, screaming, cranking the music up, letting each others tents down - reminded me of the Greenbelt Festival in the UK in some ways (but about one ten-thousandth the size).

June 8: Lomza to Suwalki - 174 km

Worse start than yesterday - puncture after only 6 km! Yes, you know it, same problem with rear tire causing the issue. I needed food badly, 1 Snickers does not count as breakfast, and I know my blood sugar was low by the time I reached the first gas station of the day. My breakfast choices were limited: chocolate bars or nothing. I loaded up on Snickers and Mars bars. (I may never eat a Snickers or drink a Coke again after this trip - well, not for 48 hours anyway).

Decided that I may not make it to Riga on this tire and sent a SMS to Adam, my Polish boss, who was driving over to meet me in Suwalki for dinner, asking him to bring me a new tire. I knew he knew something about bikes as he had built at least one wheelset for his son - not an easy task. Duly the responses came: is it slick? 'yes'. OK, consider it done. Witih that weight off my mind I began the journey through Biebrzanski National Park.

To say the road was desolate is an understatement - it took 10 km for the first car to pass me. Before this trip, if you had asked me what the weather was like in Poland, I would probably have given the answer most people give about England: gray and rainy. For the last three days the sky had been a bright blue and I had been baked under the hot sun. Today was no different. I was roasting and grateful for the lunch stop in Gondiaz at the one restuarant the town had to offer.

From this point on the day went downhill. Once I found it, I took a left turn for Jasionow - I had already cycled 5 km past it before realising I was on the wrong road. The road was great for about 1 km when I crossed the river and local swimming spot where families were bathing. Immediately after the bridge the road turned to gravel. I asked how long it went on for - given the complete lack of common language between the two of us I am not sure my question was understood or if I understood the intended answer. However, my perception of what was communicated was that the gravel lasted for 35 km!!! I tried to ride it for few km to see - I was really not sure of the answer. It quickly became a sandy base I did well not to fall off as the front wheel slid away from me. I got off and could barely push the bike. I would have to turn back and re-route. This meant going 3 sides round a rectangle and adding about 25km or an hour and quarter to my ride time. Various four-letter words went through my mind. I was hot, tired, and hungry again alreday and the psychological part of the ride was now proving a big challenge.

I made hard work of getting to Augustow where I realised my tire had about 15 psi of pressure in it. I pumped it up and let Adam know I would not be in Suwalki for 7:30. Closer to 8:00 if I dropped the hammer. The hammer was dropped for 5 km - At this point my rear tire needed more air. I changed the inner tube. As I had finished but before inflating tire, Adam passed me and pulled over. The new tire was put on the bike. For time's sake, Adam took the trailer - I had 26 km to go - and I rode 'light'. Wow! I flew into Suwalki in less than an hour.

With Adam arriving in town first he had secured me a room for the night. At any other time I would not have given this bar/restuarant/hotel a second look. He assured me it looked better on the inside. For 20 euros it was what you would expect: water stained carpet, peeling paint, ongoing construction. I wondered if the place was a front for a brothel - the first 3 people I saw all looked like they could have been contestants in a hookers' beauty pageant - tight, short skirts/dresses, making sure the relevant bits were sucked in/sticking out in front of the mirror in the bar/reception area. Still, the room had a bed and a shower - all I needed. The shower was cold - apparently I was the only guest (what were the girls doing downstairs I wondered) and the water heater was only turned on after my arrival.

Adam toured me around the region - naturally beautiful with lakes and fields. We visited an old Monastery and Hermitage where the homes of the hermits had now been rennovated and were available to holidaymakers for the right price. It was an idyllic setting and understandable why first royalty and then Pope John Paul II used to vacation here. We entered the restaurant at 9:10 to be informed that food service ended at 9:00! They did at least let me buy water.

Following a good meal in a downtown Suwalki restuarant I retired for the evening. It was late and I decided to leave later than usual in the morning and lie-in. I was woken at about 3 am by the sound of doors slamming - at least 10. If Iwas the only guest, who was slamming doors? Maybe it was the girls changing shifts or possibly Madam checking the rooms with vibrating beds. I went back to sleep.

June 7: Tabor to Lomza - 165 km

I expected today to be a fast day - I would spend the majority of it on 'big'roads. Generally this equeates to a better road surface. After a breakfast of bread and honey I was off. My fast start lasted 16 km, then the rear tire issue caught up with me. I had survived two days on my 'fix'and figured if it lasted that long each time I could make Riga and replace tire there.

More woods and rolling hills. Instead of Mississippi Pine Forest, there were times I could have been in England - despite the fact that today the cars were on the 'ŗight' side of the road! - there was rich, dark green colour to the gently rolling landscape.

Two incidents stand out. The first was shortly after I passed a cyclist pulling out of a bus lay-by. He had a decent looking hybrid bike and had been adjusting his cargo: one grocery bag on each handlebar. I flew by him. He raced past me as soon as the road started to climb. Then he looked back as if to see how much distance he had on me. A second glance back. I needed no other incentive, the gauntlet had been thrown and it was 'game on'. He had about 100m on me and was moving at a pretty good clip. I still had 60 km to go and did not want to push too hard. The road was undulating enough to make it hard for me to catch him, but slowly I ate into his lead. Then came my reward: I saw a slight descent ahead - my wieght advantage would take me screaming past him and he'd be history (at least until the road climbed again). As if sensing 'the catch' he turned off down a dirt road and I did not get to taste victory. Still it made the last 8 km much more interesting than they otherwise would have been.

The second incident was more distressing. An ambulance was pulled over on the opposite side of the road and a police car was approaching with lights and siren in full swing and pulled up behind ambulance. As I drew level I looked over. The ambulance crew were standing around, no rush or concern, wating for the police officer. Lying on the grass was a bicycle, no sign of rider. The fact that the medics were standing around did not bode well for the cyclist and the words of John Murray, YMCA Buffalo-Niagara drifted through my mind - 'Do you think you can do this ride without getting hit by a car?' I'd had a few close calls and this site did not inspire confidence. About an hour later the cop passed me with the bike hanging out of the back of his car.

Today was the Corpus Christi holiday and I saw one procession, children dressed in thier Sunday best and girls dressed in white like angels. This was the start of a long weekend in Poland and despite all the stores being closed in Ostrow Maz. I did find a supermarket in Lomza and stocked up for the night. Bug spray was also bought to fend off the mosquitoes and black flies which had certainly detracted from the camping experience thus far.

I had already made camp and was about to get the stove going when from nowhere an old man a bike approached my tent. From his gestures I gathered he owned this part of the forest. I explained I was going to Finland and needed to sleep. 'OK' he said but motioned at the empty bottles and other trash that was littering the ground. I showed him my trash bags. He nodded and with his fears allayed gave a final 'OK' before riding off.

June 6: Radoszyce to Tabor - 167 km

I needed water badly as I had started the day with less than half a bottle. Food was also a priority as a couple of biscuits did not make the ideal breakfast. Found a bakery in Konskie and wondered if there was a threat of nuclear war the line of customers was so long. Having patiently waited I ordered: 1 small pizza, 2 cinnamon rolls, 2 small ciabata breads and orange juice. Ate everything except the ciabata - would use these to 'clean' my saucepan after my evening meal and save water.

Off I headed toward Warsaw. The road was dotted with several stork nests, mostly on specially constructed 'platforms' added to telephone poles or lamposts. Despite the lengthy delay at the bakery I was making pretty good time. That soon changed. Following lunch I got on the correct road leading from Bialobrzegi toward Biejkow. To my horror, given status of rear tire, the road turned to fine gravel about 5 km further on. I asked two lads on a motor bike if I was on the right road. They confirimed I was. I road on, finally giving up and turing around when road petered out in a field! I rode back and asked again. I was directed to the 4-lane highway I was trying to avoid and basically travelled 3 sides around a square.

I made the decision not to go into Warsaw - the YMCA had not confirmed housing and the hassle of getting in and out of a big city, when you do not have time to see any of the sights, was not worth it. I stocked up and supplies - including 2 big bottles of water - and set my sights on crossing the river going toward Minsk Maz. before bedding down for the night. Found a great spot and wheeled my bike about 300m off the road, past the naked couple in thier car and onto a small, concealed, grassy area.

I was frustrated when I turned on my phone and discovered that YMCA Poland had indeed arranged accommodation in both Krakow and Warsaw - despite modern technology messages between the two of us had not reached their destination. Even more frustrating was that the YMCA in Krakow had collected/raised some money in support of the ride and I had not been there to thank them. Thank you YMCA Krakow.

June 5: Krakow to Radoszyce - 158 km

Later start than usual as I saw Lene off and was on the road at 10:30. Took me an hour to cover the 11 km needed to exit Krakow. Overcast skies threatened rain and I figured it would be more of the same: a cold, wet end to the day. However, the temperature was perfect and I was enjoying the rolling farmland.

First puncture (real puncture rather than valve failure) of the trip occurred after 30 km. It was worse than a puncture - my tire was sliced and I could see all the way through it when I put my finger inside. I replaced inner tube and inserted a 10 Zloty note inside between the tube and tire in the hope that the Zloty was as strong as a Dollar in terms of tire repair. The 'slice' was on the center line of the tire and the chance of gravel or a 'pinch flat causing another puncture was highly likely.' I rode on with bated breath.

Quiet back roads passed through villages simultaneously straddling different eras: fields being cut by scythe; milk carried in metal cans; and satellite dishes on every other house. The only negative to this bucolic setting was the awful road surface. Farmland changed to pine forest and if the road markings had been different I could have been in the Mississippi Pine Belt.

Despite the late start I wanted to get in at least 150 km and pushed on aggressively stopping only for snickers (or substitute calories) and liquid. Another kebab sufficed as lunch - washed down with grapefruit Powerade! I made my final water purchase late in the day in a small village. Though I bought 1.5 litres of my brain told me to buy two. I did not listen.

I found a small copse of trees to spend the night late in the day and set up camp. The pasta I had bought earlier at the supermarked in one of the many small towns I passed through tasted like food of the gods. I then realised I did not have enough water to drink this evening and start with a full bottle in the morning. Next time will listen to my inner voice.

June 3-4: Krakow and Surrounding Areas

On Sunday we explored the Old Town and was surprised how busy it was. The place was jam packed - tourists, vendors (arts/crafts and food), kids activities, street performers, etc. It did not take us long to realize that we were in the middle of the 750th Annniversay celebrations of the founding of Krakow. Visited possibly the worst information booth ever - no phone or phone book - in an effort to find a bicycle shop and purchase the necessary inner tubes and a new pump. Souvenir store next door was more helpful, ripping out the relevant pages of the Yellow Pages and we were able to locate the nearst two shops.

Savoured 'red borscht' and tuna-stuffed dumplings at a 'locals' bistro. Climbed the tower in the main square, which was not entirely what the knees needed, but did offer a good view of the city. Visited the castle on Wawel Hill briefly and located one of the bike shops. It was closed, but we would return in the morning ahead of our day excursion. All I wanted to do was sleep. Following a 2-hour nap the day was rounded off with a massive kebab 'Polish style'. Krakow is a wonderful, historic city and I was sorry not to have more time or energy to explore it further. Will definitely plan to return.

The following day we were at the bike store shortly after opening and the requisite supplies purchased. Our timing was perfect as we reached the bus station as our transport to Oswiecim was leaving in two minutes. The name Oswiecim probably means nothing to anyone except the Poles reading this. However, its German moniker has consigned it to the darkest chapters of history - we were going to Auschwitz. Now a 'city of peace' Oswiecim houses the Auschwitz Museum in honour of the 1.5 million, mainly Jews, who were murdered.

Two things struck me: how small Auschwitz camp was and how sterile/'soft' the museum was. I had expected to leave traumatised and although the hard facts are presented and leave you wondering about the psychosis of a regime that exterminates 56,000 Hungarians in 7 days, gassed 2,000 at a time, it seemed too clean. Personally I would have tried to bring the history to life by having visitors enter a railway carriage and being 'locked in' for 3 minuted followed by a mock 'selection' (who lives/who 'showers') process in an effort to convey what went really went on. The elements that do bring the horror to life are the mounds of human hair and the piles of suitcases, shoes and spectacles that remain. Birkenau, less well known in name, but where most of the murders took place is massive and certainly more horrific - even if based solely on the scale of the place.

Two quotes remained with me: 'Arbeit macht frei' - the inscription over the entrance gates to Auschwitz which perversely translates to 'work brings freedom' (for most, freedom only came through death), and 'those who do not remember history are bound to live through it again' - George Santayana. This had me reflecting on my conversations in Sarajevo.

June 2: Poprad to Krakow, Poland - 166 km

Was first in breakfast room at 6:30 and pulling away from hotel at 8 am after more repairs to trailer. Mother Nature had departed from here usual schedule and had started the day with rain and fog. Undeterred I set off to cross the High Tatras and enter Poland.

I have been told by all who have visited the region that the scenery is spectauclar - 2500m peaks towering over Apline-esque villages. I did all the work but gone none of the visual rewards. The mountains must still have been there - they could not have been moved overnight. However, I saw nothing except the stretch of road in front of me - the entire area was enveloped in rain clouds and fog. The villages looked cold, wet and miserable - a mirror image of how I felt. Still, at least the uphills were generating body heat and I was not yet suffereing too badly.

The rain worsened as I reached the Polish border. For some reason I thought things would get easier gradient-wise upon reaching Poland. Oh no - more towering climbs for several kilometeres. Not 12% but L-O-N-G. Finally I seemed to reach my high altitude of the day and the road into Nowy Targ was fast. I had reached my goal of 80 km by lunch.

It was still raining as I left the pizzeria. Once again I had put wet clothes back on after changing into dry ones to eat. The pain in my knees this morning had taken about 25 km (1.5 hours) to dissipate and now they needed to be warmed up again. The road to Krakow was essentially downhill from here. With the weight of the trailer I was tearing up the tarmac and making great time and anticpated arriving in Krakow at about 6:30. To good to be true? You bet.

The all too familiar 'phsssssssst' sound bellowed and I prayed it was the trailer tire that had punctured and not my rear bike tire. Of course, it was the rear bike inner tube and the problem could not be fixed - the valvestem was the problem. Nothing to do but throw inner tube away. Problem - I had no spare! It had been used in Budapest and I planned to buy two more in Krakow. What to do? - I was stuck on an overpass of national road number 7.

The local fire department were setting up for their annual 'field day' tomorrow and there were about 30 youth and adults on the wet field (was still raining) as I walked over. I asked if anyone spoke English. One of the youths did. There was no bike store nearby, but a bus could take me to Krakow. While digesting this there was some more side talk. Then the offer that some of the youths would help me carry bike and trailer back to field house and store it while one of the men took me to try to fix the 'tube'. Deal. Four lads moved my gear. The 'fix' for my tube was that I took the tube from the man's bike after driving to his home! Then my pump stopped working - another person was dispatched to go and get a pump. We managed to get about 15 psi in the tire (it should have 70-80) but no more despite our team effort.

Two hours later I was back on the road and in a race a) to get to a petrol garage and get more air in the tire, and b) get to Krakow before darkness fell. I won both contests. Just. I arrived in Krakow at 8:30 and then took another 20 minutes to find the apartment that Lene and I had rented.

It had been a truly memorable day and a big thank you to the Pcim Fire Department for bailing me out and helping get me back on the road.

June 1: Lucenec to Poprad, Slovakia - 132 km

Following breakfast with the Sinko family I was out the door at 7:40. It took me 45 mins to lube the bike and repair the bent cotter pin that secures the trailer to the bike on the right side. Took another 15 mins to locate an ATM. Armed with a day's worth of Slovak currency I set off for Kalinovo.

I enjoyed the rolling Slovakian countryside, the peacefulness and the sound of the birds. At one point I passed a sign indicating scheduled daily 'cattle crossings'. As luck would have it I had avoided the 'rush hour' period of bovine movment and my ride north was uninterrupted. The climbs were becoming steeper and longer.

In the village of Zlatno I took shade under tree next to a church for refreshment: snickers and a coke. I encountered an older gentleman who in other contexts I may have assumed was homeless. He told me the original church was destroyed in WWI and that this church had been designed by a famous Slovakian architect from Bratislava. It had opened in 1922 following 6 years of planning/construction and that there is a twin-church in Slovakia also. He added that times had been better when the country was Czechoslovakia before 'the division': Czech Republic now has all industry and Slovakia is poor neighbour with rural economy.

People in Hnusta suggested I not try and cycle through the High Tatras. I pushed on towards Tisovec and the climbs really started. First came the 7% signs, then the 12%. My gears were not shifting properly and my knees were screaming at having to climb in bigger gears than they wanted. 'Granny' gear (easiest possible to pedal) was found for the first time. The wisdom of my Hnusta advisors was becoming apparent. It was all I could do to maintain 5 km/h. This meant the German Shepherd guard dog closed the distance between us rapidly, teeth snapping, eyes on my right calf! I accelerated to the dizzying speed of 8 km/h and then sat before tendons snapped or my heart exploded. The dog backed off.

I was rewareded for my efforts with a 12% downhill and the road then dipped and rose into Poprad. I had given everything to get over the mountains (and not entered High Tatras yet) and my knees were shattered. I opted for a hotel instead of pushing another 12 km in failing light. I could barely keep my eyes open during dinner and after a much needed bath it was an early night.

May 31: Budapest - Lucenec, Slovakia - 173 km

Up at 7 in order to be first in line when breakfast was served at campground restaurant at 8. However, efforts for an early start were thwarted when at 7:55, while inflating tires, the valve stem broke off on my front inner tube! Breakfast was eaten with hands smelling of rubber and chain-lubricant and I was pleased I remembered enough French to have a conversation with a couple from Provence over coffee and toast.

A bike courier escorted me along the relevant bike paths to the river Danube and I was soon heading north towards Szentendre where I caught the ferry across a narrow river to Szigetmonostor. I was now on quiet, Hungarian back-roads and leisurely cycled back towards the Danube, before crossing it on another ferry to the city of Vac.

Following a hand-drawn map from two teenage-girls I found my way to Rad and enjoyed a ride to the Slovakian border on more gently rolling, quiet backroads. On cue, about an hour before arrival at the border crossing, the heavens opened. The sky had threatend rain most of the day and within minutes I was drenched and cold. I ducked into the first petrol garage on the Slovakian side of the border to change and put calories in my pie-hole. I then changed back into wet clothes once the storm caught up with me again before I had finished my sandwich and coke in the warm confines of the store.

I had made a potentially grave error: Lucenec was 30 km further than I thoght and I discovered this at 5:15 with 53 km to go. It would be a race against the setting sun - again. Off I charged off in the pouring rain. I arrived at 8:35 pm, very cold, wet and hungry. I met Pavel with the YMCA in Lucenec and was then hosted by an Albanian family for dinner - which was an unexpected opportunity to practice my Albanian. The oldest daughter (of 6 children) asked what was I getting from the trip personally? Contributing to a good cause and seeing Europe at at a pace powered by me. This was strange to her.

The night was spent at Pavel's place.

May 30: Osijek to Budapest by train (25 km on bike)

Woke up to rain and following breakfast (served in my room) I headed for an internet cafe. I stumbled across the old town and explored the wet, cobblestoned streets cautiously - I was no longer nervous about my spokes but the potentially slippery surface. May buildings/statues were being renovated and it appeared the city was involved in the recent conflict judging by the pockmarked buildings.

I arrived at the railway station at 12:30 for a 13:15 train. Happily my ATM cards worked today and I now had Croatian money with which to buy food! Trains arrived: some left; some waited as if for a pre-arranged rendezvous that was now delayed. I had been told my train would display the sign "Sarajevo-Budapest" and expected a train of more than 3 carriages (the 'local' train length). Following an announcement a 2-car train pulled in, well short of where I waited on the platform. I paid it little attention until realising at the last second it was my train: I dashed back to my bike and finally managed to get the conductor to understand that I needed him to hold my bike while I detached the trailer and loaded everything. He was in a hurry to go and I do not think my bike wheels were on the ground when the train pulled away.

My arrival in Budapest was greeted by a horde of 'Hostel touts' trying to sell me rooms. There were not interested in giving directions, but could not match the camping fee I challenged them too. Instead they told my it would take me at least an hour and half to get where I was going. I followed the sun West, and forty-two minutes later I was putting my tent up.

There was a very noticeable difference in temperature here (cooler). I enjoyed dinner conversation with couples from the Netherlands and Germany over pork schnitzel, garlic and fries. To bed ahead of a big day on the morrow.