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.