Borderline

Day #18

Monday, May 18th

From Grodziszcze to Jesenik

Everything is gray and a light drizzle begins.

So, it's time to get up to pack the things as dry as possible.

Fortunately, it stays dry otherwise today.

I still feel very isolated, and the first living creature I see is a deer crossing my path.

Bumpy tracks alternate with pothole-filled roads.

At some point, my GPS wants to send me into a side street in the village. A quick look at the route ahead shows that both paths converge again, so I stay on the road instead of following the route. You learn, and I prefer asphalt. Sometimes, it's even smooth.

There's a lot of variety in the landscape, with beautiful little towns presenting themselves, and in the countryside, the scent of rapeseed and freshly mown grass wafts into my nose. Helpful, as otherwise it would be difficult to recognize certain paths. Otherwise, it would just be fields.

On the paved sections, I'm making good progress. Today, I also reap the benefits of yesterday's planting. The first 50 km are mostly downhill.

The first solo shopping trip arrives, taking correspondingly more time.

Lock up, remove electronics, shop… So far, it has always been super convenient that Dave handled this. So, I could write my report in the meantime.

By the way, Dave got home safely last night. All connections were surprisingly on time. Well done, Deutsche Bahn.

In the afternoon, I could even orient myself by the sun. Or so. A bright spot is visible in the clouds.

Shortly after, it even briefly shows itself and gives a taste of warmer days.

Which hopefully will come soon.

Another kilometer-long dyke brings variety. However, at the moment, there’s no water to be seen for miles.

That will come later, and a huge expanse of water spreads out before me.

Incredible how bombarded I am with impressions, and I continue on happily.

You become modest with the paths, and everything that allows you to ride without being completely shaken is a joy.

In the last third of the day, the altitude climbs. And I get closer to the Czech border.

In the evening, it's time to get water again. And I find it hard to hold back, so I grab some snacks again.

Then comes a murderous ascent. With up to 22% incline to tackle.

Once at the top, I see the deathly descent.

Half stairs, half drainage channel.

Fortunately, I decide to go down; I see a jogger at the bottom, so there must be something there, instead of blindly following the route, and I begin my descent.

On foot, I value my life.

The brakes do a good job, but the front tire slips occasionally.

Arriving at the bottom, I find train tracks, a barrier, and an embankment.

In the meantime, a woman is also making her way down behind me. Quite strange.

A short exchange, then I also see a bike path. And the reason for the struggles, the bridge of the bike path has been washed away.

So, I heave the bike over the tracks, drop the last meters, and continue on.

In the next village, I notice that the cars have different license plates and realize that I missed the border crossing into the Czech Republic during the previous action.

Further clues confirm that I have arrived in the third country of my journey.

There are better roads, the houses look a bit better maintained, and the white churches have shed their bricks, and there is a bike path.

Which takes me through the valley along a river.

Beautiful and good for the last kilometers until I come through a wooded section again.

However, valley also means here, everything is built up at the bottom or agriculture is there, and the forest is on the slope.

So, I push up another hill and I'm already lost in the forest.

Over yews, which Komoot doesn't even know. Or maybe it's the lack of internet that prevents it from displaying.

I'm fine with that.

After setting up my camp and finishing dinner, I throw myself into the hammock and review the last days.

My conclusion about Poland:

It is a vast and beautiful country. The villages are stretched out, and usually all the houses are along the one existing road.

The people we encountered were peculiar and initially seemed aloof. This appears to be culturally conditioned and has to do with a demand for sincerity. If something comes, then it's sincere.

We also met many nice people who offered help with repairs or advised us on finding a campsite. Okay, we didn’t need a campsite, but we kept that to ourselves, and it remained a nice exchange.

The infrastructure could be improved, but it seems that investments are being made.

I was also fascinated by the brick Gothic, especially the cathedral in Poznan.

It's nice that there’s already a decision to come back again.

Song of the Day:

Decapitated - Earth Scar (To conclude, a Polish band)