October 11, 2013
Into Poland: Spying on geese, a man on a rickshaw, and a crucial World Cup Qualifier
I was looking forward to cycling across Poland. In fact, I had been looking forward to cycling across Poland for many years, ever since I had worked in a warehouse with lots of Polish people back in the UK. In preparation for my trip I had forced the friends that I had there to teach me lots of Polish. Due to my wayward habits I had finally arrived in Poland three years later than planned and in that time much of the Polish had been forgotten, but I could still remember how to say Hello, Please, Thank-you, Can I put my tent here? Where is the nearest bike shop? and Potato.
I arrived in the town of Sokolka on my first evening and tried to take the primary road out of town. Unfortunately I soon realised that the main roads in Poland were much busier than the ones in Lithuania, and also narrower and with nothing even close to resembling a shoulder. In other words, it wasn't somewhere for me and my bicycle. So I launched myself into a hedge and spent the night there, then went back into Sokolka in the morning, located the library and printed a map showing a route to Warsaw on smaller roads. This turned out to be an excellent course of action, for the small roads took me off into a wonderful world.
For example I got to see a little of the real Polish lifestyle. This may have been best exemplified when I was sitting at a bus stop in a small village watching the goings on in a yard across the street. The yard was filled with geese and there was a little cat wandering around which intimidated the geese somewhat. There was also a big white dog chained up to the wall outside the house. This dog barked at the cat, barked at the geese, barked at everything. An old man appeared at the door and said something to the dog, but this just made the dog whine even more when the man left as he wanted to be free, he didn't want to be chained up. Next a younger woman appeared to feed the geese and she tried to soothe the dog and urge it to calm down. This had a better effect, but the reappearance of the cat, which caused the geese to gang up on said cat and run after it, chasing it out of the yard, had the dog once again barking hysterically. The upshot of this was a younger man running out of the door in nothing but his boxer shorts waving a shoe at the poor dog. This, I decided, was Poland in a nutshell.
Some of the smaller roads turned out to be quite difficult. Some of them turned into sand. Cycling in sand is quite difficult. But the scenery was rather splendid at times, and the quiet roads were often a delight. I had one rather brilliant meeting as I passed through one of the small villages along the way. It was with the world's most unlikely rickshaw driver. A quiet road through a little Polish village was about the least likely place to encounter one. Nevertheless, I could hardly consider my study of the world's rickshaw drivers to be complete without stopping to interview this man.
"Excuse me sir! You appear to be driving a rickshaw in the middle of nowhere! What's going on?"
"Nie twój kolega biznesu, a co ty robisz na rowerze z tymi wszystkimi torbami?"
"Yes, yes! But where are your customers? You aren't going to make any money out here surely?"
"Chcesz windy w mojej rikszy?"
He was a happy looking old man, but I couldn't understand a word he was saying. It certainly wasn't about potatoes. Then I noticed that he did have some customers, for on the seat of his rickshaw was an empty beer bottle and a small pink dinosaur.
"How much do you charge the dinosaur for a tour of Poland?"
"Czy masz jakieś panie pieniądze, mój dinozaur jest głodny"
"Haha, yes! Well I don't know what you're doing, but I'd sure like to take a photo of you. Is that okay? Photo?"
"Nie!"
"Great, say cheese!"
"Zamierzam cię zabić CHEESE!"
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Poland was proving to be quite nice but a bit boring. On one evening I decided to liven things up a bit by finding a bar to watch the decisive final World Cup Qualifier between Poland and my home-country of England. First I had to try and locate a bar in the middle of nowhere, but after asking around I was able to find directions to a small town nearby that would be showing the match. I set my tent up in the trees outside of the town and left it on foot to look for the bar. I felt a sense of great pride in being one of very few English supporters to have made the effort to travel to Poland for this crucial match, although admittedly that was largely because the game was being played at Wembley.
I realised that my presence as an Englishman in a Polish pub was quite likely to result in my being beaten up if England won. Luckily as I walked through the town I came up with a fool-proof plan. In my head I rehearsed how things would go:
Englishman walks into Polish bar ahead of crucial World Cup Qualifier between England and Poland. Thirty Polish skinheads turn to watch Englishman.
"G'day guys! Strewth mate, what's that on the tele? Fair dinkum! I'll have a schooner of Fosters please and throw another shrimp on the barbie will ya?"
Polish skinheads relax and turn back to the TV as the man who has entered is clearly Australian.
I was very happy with my plan, because my Australian accent is flawless. Then I had a worrying thought, what if the barman asked me for I.D.?
Barman looks at I.D. Sees that the Australian man has British Passport.
"What is this sir? A British passport? Are you English sir?"
Polish skinheads turn towards bar. They stand up patting crowbars menacingly.
"Och nae laddy. I dinnae think so. Iam from Scootland laddy. I dinnae care for the English laddy."
"I thought you were Australian sir?"
"Strewth mate, yes. Och aye, dual nationality. Crikey, I'll have a whisky and a Fosters and I dinnae think you need to worry about throwing the shrimp on the barbie."
Yep, it was fool-proof!
I eventually came to the bar at the far end of the town, which was lucky because I had all that time to come up with the plan. I say it was a bar, it had the word 'Bar' outside. Inside it looked more like somebody's house. There were only four or five guys and they sat there pretty quietly staring at the TV, with a complete indifference towards me or my nationality. After a little while I was able to figure out which of the guys owned the bar/house and I asked for a drink (in a neutral accent) and I was given a beer for a euro. I sat at a table with a drunk Polish man who spoke to me a little bit as the game went on. This conversation consisted almost entirely of footballer's names, although at one point it did extend towards predicting the result of the match. I was relieved when he predicted a 2-1 victory for England - the expectations of these Polish fans were low. I made the mistake of predicting a 2-0 victory for England and he seemed a little offended that I didn't believe Poland would be good enough to score. An hour later the game finished 2-0 and I slipped out quietly.
10/10/13 - 46km (21km in Poland)
11/10/13 - 86km
12/10/13 - 140km
Today's ride: 247 km (153 miles)
Total: 7,302 km (4,535 miles)
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