Ballistic Poland 2006

[Mr K]

Friday 22nd September
It's a bad day: The car is in for an MOT.
I'm packed.
Around noon me Dad suggest taking me into town to get me foreign money.
£60 Euros, £200 Zlotty and £50 in Krona....Are you travelling about then?" says the gormless bint behing the (luckily for her bullet proof) glass, who then loses count twice, asks me when I'm leaving and when I say "in an hour" says Ooh! You'll need to get a move-on then.."
I resist the temptation to drag her through the slot below the glass and head home, hearing on the way that me car needs almost £500 worth of work to pass it's MOT....

Anyway - I'm off on the bike, bound for Hull to meet ballistic - I'm late so we meet in the Irish Bar on the Dutch ferry...153 miles.

I relax:

We sleep.

Saturday, 23rd

Ample cooked breakfast followed by efficient disembarkation and we are off.
My Quest locks-up in a diversion near Rotterdam and I follow ballistic to Ketzin near Berlin and we find "Birtshaus Redo" and book into a charming apartment.
A quick wash and we head to their restaurant.
We have a couple of beers before dining....

It's mushroom season, so I have liver-dumpling soup followed by schnitzel in a creamy mushroom sauce and ballistic has mushroom soup and steak with wild mushrooms..
We find out via texts from home how to unlock my Quest

451 miles.

Sunday 24th

We have a lovely, typical German breakfast of meats, cheese, eggs, fruit, yoghurts etc, all presented beautifully ....

...and head-off into Berlin.

We stop at the factory at Spandau - Taking our bikes back home...

...and then check out the wall...

...sections of it are preserved..

...it's quite a solemn place.

 

[Mr K]

We headed out of the city toward and into Poland. It was rather hot and we were well knackered by the time we found a room in “Lazy” on the north Polish coast.
Apparently the coast is beautiful, but all we can see are the endless trees that line our route.
With a mixture of sign language and German we got ourselves a 3 bedded room for ZL60 – about £12.
We changed and went out, after I discovered I had only brought one pair of non-biking socks. The cafes and pizza places I thought I’d seen all seemed to be closed, so we bought some consolation beers from the shop owned by our landlord.
The beer was “Faxe” lager and 10%. It went straight to my head.
After a while I asked the landlord “Restaurant?” to which he first replied something about end of season and then suddenly “Rybky” and pointed vaguely down the road. Ribs perhaps?
Not quite. “Rybky” or similar is Polish for fish.
We found the Rybky place and the young lady who seemed to be waiting on the tables seemed to know we were English before we said a word and suggested “Fish, salad, frites, beer…” – Damn what a saleswoman!
Disturbingly the beer is Miller Genuine Draft, all the way from the US of A. Fortunately they manage to find 1 last can of “Zyweic” for Brian.
Turns out we were their last customers of the season: As we ate outside you could see fridges and equipment being taken out the back and loaded into a van.
After that we went back to the hotel/shop and bought some beers to take upstairs. I had a couple whilst compiling my memoirs:

Soon I feel guilty that I may be keeping Brian awake, as he’s laid on his bed listening to his MP3 player.
I retire indoors and get into my bed.
“Guess what time it is!” says Brian.
It turns out to be the seriously un-rock & roll time of seven-thirty. Non-the-less we are both soon asleep, not waking ‘til 12 hours later.

Monday – 25th:

Sunny and warm.
On the road before 8 o’clock.
I see an actual woman, on an actual milking stool, actually milking an actual cow, in a (oh alright) field beside the road.
Entering Ustka there are lots of soldiers about, mostly to direct dribs and drabs of a convoy of military vehicles, which appear now and again. Reassuringly they seem to be equipped with Land Rovers … which is nice. We stop at a café and sample traditional surly service and get cake and coffee with a grimace. I can’t complain: I haven’t remembered a word of Polish yet. It’s such an alien language. Normally you can guess looking at signs and stuff. In this case I haven’t a clue, apart from “piwo” which is beer.
We carry on along what is alleged to be the coast, peering through the omnipresent trees for a glimpse of the Baltic. We pause north of Gdansk and resist the opportunity to ride up a 25-mile long narrow peninsular to “Hel”… and back again.
We get back on the main roads heading south past Gdansk, Malbork and Elborg, stopping for fuel and a drink before Brainewo. The roads in this part of Poland are rough, the signposting confusing and, inevitably, we get split up and don’t meet until the night’s stop, where we knew where we were going to be:
Pension Teresa is in the Polish ‘Lake District’, near Gyscko. It is beautiful and we have a large room:

Naturally we head downstairs for dinner and drinks and are quickly escorted away from the other guests, into a separate, large, otherwise empty dining room.
After my first beer I decide that the coffin-dodgers next-door are an SS reunion that would be traumatised by Brian’s “British by birth – English by the Grace of God” T-shirt….?

We have a couple of beers and the set meal, which seems to be chicken breasts stuffed with Frikadellen (?), salad and chips.

After which Brian hit the [Wyborowa] vodka:

There were some items on the menu that concerned us:

But it all seemed to taste alright.

We ask the owner about getting into Lithuania. He reckoned it was okay as they’re “part of the union”…….?
We look at the maps, drink some more and Brian reckons we could do a few miles through Belarus too….. Two more countries to add to our portfolio.


355 miles.

 

[Mr K]

Tuesday 26th:

[Still no socks]

I retrieve the well-washed set from the balcony.

After a splendid breakfast, during which we are permitted contact with the other guest, we head ever eastwards.Brian: I’d just like to express my congratulations to Pension Teresa for having the most delicious breakfast sausages ever… and an apology to the other guests for eating them all.

Nervously we approach the Polish/Lithuanian border.
The Polish immigration official hands my bike’s V5 registration document to her Lithuanian male counterpart who produces a jeweller’s eyepiece and examines the top corner of the document with great interest.
The procedure is repeated for Brian and then they wave us through. They hadn’t noticed that neither of us had any insurance whatsoever for Lithuania and beyond!

Wow! Lithuania? Who would have believed it?

Fifty-five miles later the Lithuanian officials allow us to cross to the Belarus border:

It’s a proper East/West border just like in films: And they have proper bureaucracy too:

At the first hut one guy copies details from all my documents onto a form. This takes about 20 minutes. At the next booth I wait 10 minutes to be dealt with and 10 minutes more before the cry of “No visa?” erupts.
No I don’t have a visa. Didn’t know you needed one. Bloke with comedy hat says we can’t come in. “Fair enough” I think, but bloke wanders off for 10 minutes with me papers. He comes back: “5 minutes” he says. We think this is positive: If they were just chucking us out there’d be no delay?

Wrong… 45 minutes later my documents are returned, my passport with a stamp, counter-signed and then cancelled.
The Ministry of Bureaucracy lives in Belarus.

Later we decide it’s pretty cool to be refused entry to a country and remarkably un-dramatic. However, due to limited border crossings, we need to back-track through Lithuania back into Poland, managing to procure me 3 pairs of socks for £1 on the way.

After a slog down the remarkably fast and straight Polish ‘B-roads’, we end up in Hajnowka, and book into a drab looking place just as night was falling. The receptionist speaks English though and we get a room n the 2nd floor. It's clean and pleasant enough.

For dinner we get to sit alone in the dining room and enjoy roast Roe Deer, potato dumplings and coleslaw and a rather abruptly presented bill, which suggested to us that they wanted to close…we head out in search of beer.
Eventually we resort to the “Plus” store and whilst I buy a selection of beers Brian buys some model aeroplane fuel, believing it to be traditional vodka. He may yet be proved right.

Brian: I haven’t had the courage to try my 95% proof ‘Lubricating Spirit’ at home yet… I’m waiting for Paul to come and stay, I’ve heard that he’s quite fond of a short, or two!

Back at the hotel I lose interest in the over-dubbed “Adam’s Family” movie and develop a strange fixation with a channel showing live CCTV coverage of the roundabout at the end of the street.

We don’t need no stinkin’ visas…….

328 miles.

 

[Toad]

So, why the 4 year wait for the RR?



Liking it though

 

[Mr K]

Wednesday – 27th:

After a fine breakfast featuring scrambled egg, we head off – the wrong way. I manage to get lost several times and manage to almost run out of petrol before spotting Brian’s bike parked at a café some 100 miles later.

Brian: I knew he’d find me, and I wasn’t going to stop until I had to turn the map over… great roads!

I am immediately employed in mouse ejecting duties as I try to buy a beer, but the semi-corpsed mouse terrifies the beer serving ladies, from beyond-ish the grave.

Brian:We continued south and back onto a stretch of ‘A-Road’, which was chock full of lorries, roadworks and single-file systems. At one point we (I) get so frustrated that we follow an Audi which dived out to overtake everything on the wrong side of the road. Unfortunately, just round the (blind) corner, stood one of Poland’s finest, armed with big red lollipop thing for stopping traffic. He jumped out to stop us… the Audi pulled-in, I carried on… obviously, he wasn’t after us… Chris must’ve thought the same, he followed me and didn’t look back. I felt a little easier when we eventually turned off the main road onto the less frenetic country lanes, but we were nervous for the rest of the day.

We arrive in Sanok and select the “Dom Turysty” after a fruitless trawl of the town. It’s another outwardly drab ex-communist place, but inevitably clean and economical.

After a quick splash we head out on the town to find restaurants and bars closed. There are plenty of “Alkohol” shops, but nowhere to sit, sup and stare so we return to the hotel’s bar/restaurant.
The barman has no English or German, but I can now also say “proshim” – Please in Polish.
The menu is impenetrable, so we guess: Borscz z pasztecikiem – which is a rather nice beetroot soup with ravioli in it, followed very quickly by burnt pork steaks, or something….all this and a few beers for ZL 60 (£10)

339 miles.

 

[Mr K]

Thursday – 28th:

Splendid ‘guessed’ breakfast: We basically chose 2 different breakfasts from the menu. I got bread, cheese, ham, tomato and onion plus a large Frankfurter, mustard and onion, whilst Brian got a bowl of cornflakes with hot milk and some bread and jam and stuff. I donated half of my sausage to the “Save the Brian” fund.
We trundled westward, along the southern border of Poland to Grybow, where we turned south to Krynice on a fabulous road. I narrowly escaped another ticket as we headed into Slovakia.
We turned north again, into Poland and had lunch in Zakopane, where we had intended to stay, but it was very busy and commercial and it was only lunch time. We had a beer and a pizza and carried on, with me almost running out of petrol again.
We refuelled and headed for Auschwitz and Berkenau.

This is one of Brian's pictures:

For me it was the hideous scale of it that got me. I had a notion of a 300 yard square “Great Escape” style place, but the 3 Auschwitz camps were on an industrial scale, with railways and sidings and apparently 40 satellite camps all efficiently transporting Jews and undesirables to their death.

Peculiar too that life goes on between the horrible memories: Auschwitz or “Oswiecim” is a town. People were going about their business. A new pizza restaurant was about to open. Children cycled home from school through it all.

We head off again and end up in Zory, where we found the Hotel Zory.
We have a minor dispute about the parking as reception bloke wants ZL 10 per bike. I argue that we’re only using 1 space and he comes out with the classic line: "For men like you, I think, 10 Zlotty is nothing...." – At least that is how I chose to remember it.

Brian is so impressed with the ambient music in the bar that he goes back to the room and returns with earplugs in place – This makes conversation tricky and seems ever so slightly surreal.

We drink Zywiec beer and cock-up a bit on the food and wine front: Steaks without all the trimmings accompanied by a dry –white Bulgarian “Misket”…

The bar is decorated strangely:

The light above the pool table is an upturned pram suspended from the ceiling.


Pool is played in a macho fashion until Brian and I show them (the empty bar, barmaid and old smoking woman) how it’s supposed to be done.
Brian develops a passion for a strange, red cough syrup called Finlandia, which seems popular with the locals too… imported from Finland and flavoured with red ‘berries’.

298 miles.

 

[Mr K]

Friday - 29th:

A foggy start after a breakfast of fried eggs with diced bacon.
Crossed the Polish/Czech border after filling up the bikes and allowing Brian to buy an extra large bottle of his new favourite throat medicine.
The first few miles into the Czech Republic are on a new, smooth, winding road. We simply head west.
I’ve seen a couple of signs for McDonald’s, so am starting to get that “end is nigh” feeling.

We arrive in Sedlice unfashionably early, for us and have an extra long wash and kip. We have separate rooms. Mine has 3 single beds and costs CK 450 (£10).
Out back in the beer garden it’s CK 17 for a 0.5 litre beer..say 40p?

We trawl through the menu, consulting the phrase books and as it begins to turn cooler we retire indoors.

Well it’s Friday night. There’s a table full of local blokes drinking beer and vodka chasers like the World’s about to end. Brian:The vodka ritual is quite impressive when you see it performed by experts… The vodka comes on a separate tray, ice cold in ‘shot’ glasses. You take the glass, chink it with your mates, utter “Na zdrowie”, or whatever, and position it level with your mouth, just touching the front of your lower lip. With an exaggerated swing, you throw your head right back, tipping the contents onto your open mouth in one go, finally shaking any remaining droplets into your beer… waste not, want not! Repeat.
One young lady serves drink and dispenses food with amazing efficiency: If you don’t want another beer don’t get down to the last inch in your glass or she’ll trot over with a fresh one.

I go for the beef noodle soup followed by a mixed grill, as does Brian:

After this I struggle to finish my beer, having to wait for burps to allow space to pour it in.
We try a walk up and down the high street to digest some of the meat.

Brian: Paul an I stayed here a couple of years ago and were impressed by the beer, the rooms and especially the huge plate of fried ham and eggs for breakfast… which came unexpectedly after we’d polished off all the rolls, cakes and jam on the table, thinking that was all we were going to get. I warned Chris, so we didn’t make the same mistake this time!

286 miles

 

[Ash]

" Around noon me Dad suggest taking me into town to get me foreign money.
£60 Euros, £200 Zlotty and £50 in Krona " quote special K "
try taking that little in 2010
more Ned

 

[Mr K]

Saturday – 30th:

Foggy again and noticeably cooler.
We ride by the easiest route to Wertheim, near Wurzburg, struggling for accommodation, as there seems to be a fair of sorts going on.
First place we try is full, the second wants €65 per head for his “last 2 rooms” and finally we find one for €85 for a twin… Brian: A ‘German twin’ that is, i.e. one double bed… it was Chris’s turn for the sofa!
We head down-town:

...and struggle to find the beer in the fest... until:

...night falls...

...it seems we won't starve..

Entertainment begins. First this guy does a really straight-laced oldies/traditional set and then bursts back on stage as Austin Powers, belting out rock classics and being a complete nutter….

...ZZ Top?

We’re sharing a table with a (former East) German couple from Saxony, with whom we collaborate when it starts to rain and drag our table inside the beer tent.

Brian: I have to add a comment here that Chris couldn’t handle the large mugs… although he insisted on nothing smaller, he had to use 2 hands to lift it… which almost bought a smile from the Saxons!

Eventually we head back to the hotel, first in the rain and then in a thunder-storm with lightning flashing around the hill tops. I figured I was safe as Brian is tallest.

311 miles.

 

[Mr K]

Sunday –1st October:

Foggy, damp start, typical German forest weather.
Unfortunately, despite wishful thinking the clocks didn’t go back last night, so we didn’t have a lie-in.
Breakfast is pleasant with hams and sausages, cheese and home made jams. We set off 60 miles across country, 20 following the River Main and 40 through rural Germany’s interminable love affair with speed limits and no overtaking.
We arrive in Adenau and watch the punters hooning around the Nurburgring.
Before we got completely psyched-out, we decide to go and get a room and come and have a go ourselves.
I see a sign pointing to “Zimmern” up a side road.
After a bit of negotiation (Why don’t these European types understand that two men need two separate beds?) we end up with our own, two- bedroomed bungalow for €40, for the night.

We dump our luggage and head back to the circuit, buy a couple of tickets and head out on our lap without thinking too much about the consequences. Frankly it’s pretty scary: You’ve got some serious punters who buy day passes and just clock-off lap after lap, know the circuit well and are very handy. They could be on a sorted, big, Jap sports bike or driving a stripped out BMW, complete with roll cage and slicks.
I spent 80% of my time watching my mirrors for incoming missiles.
As my stint ends and I enter the top straight I am greeted by the sight of ambulances and fire engines parked across the track. There’s a GSXR Suzuki and a 3-series BMW, both looking like scrap. Maybe the bike hit the car or the bike popped its engine and the car crashed trying to avoid it? Either way we are all directed off the track.
We both agree, a beer is in order.

Luckily I was unaffected by the whole thing:

Much like Brian's back tyre..

As we sit drinking our beers an ambulance with Polizei escort nee-nahs down the main street. ……..and within minutes the shrieking of tyres and roar of engines eminates from the track again.
We go back to our house. I enjoy the luxury of a bath before we mosey into town.
We have a few beers. I have a peppered steak and Brian a mixed grill, before we toddle off to bed.

213 miles.

 

[Mr K]

Monday –2nd:

Breakfast and then off we go.
Just riding back to the ferry, we stop at Spa, Francorchamps and find that we’ve blagged our way into the circuit, We follow 2 German Ducati riders through a pit garage and out onto the pit wall.

A clipboard-toting official finds us. We aren’t supposed to be there, so we head off into the village for a drink.

After that we carry on up the motorway towards the ferry ‘til a Police motorcyclist starts to follow us and I take a wrong turn.
We stop at a supermarket and then refuel, before continuing to the ferry.
We are treated to a spectacular downpour and thunder and lightning as we approach the port, but are soon onboard and getting wet on the inside instead.

283 miles.



Tuesday – 3rd:

Off the ferry eventually.
115 miles home.
Called in at Mill and dropped Skinny off for her 24,000 service, 2,249 miles late.
Came home.

3,394 miles.

GPS says Max Speed was 575 mph??

 

[Mr K]

So, why the 4 year wait for the RR?



Liking it though

It was before I discovered photbucket and I couldn't be arsed to do it with attachments... just stumbled across the word doc the other day.

 

[Toad]

It was before I discovered photbucket and I couldn't be arsed to do it with attachments... just stumbled across the word doc the other day.

Looks like a fantastic trip

 

[Ash]

most enjoyable

 

[STUBBS]

well worth the wait

 

[Stevie73]

well worth the wait

+1 Indeed

 

[Invicta Moto]

+1 Indeed

Plus another!

Na zdraví Pan K!

 

[MikeP]

Yup. I enjoyed that.

 

[sijohnston]

grateful that this made it out of the cellar! thanks for getting there with it

 

[Bryn]

Nice report


I'd like to resurrect some pics from the Tossers Eastern bloc raid in 2004 We got there the week Poland got in the EU