Mark's surprise birthday in Zakopane

December 13-15 2013

The 5 of us quietly got out of the car and carefully climbed the icy steps to the front door.  Peering in, we saw Mark sitting on the couch, eyes half-closed, as his head bobbed up and down fighting the temptation to sleep.  The glow of the TV was shining on his face.  He woke up to check his phone, and we worried he might have seen us.  It was after midnight, and when people turn 50, usually they'd be asleep long before this (yea I have 50 year old friends, it makes me feel mature).  But Ewa kept him awake (and fully dressed) for this moment.  Dominka, Igors, Andy, Agnieszka and I slowly went through the first door into the entry way, and kept our eyes on Mark as we tried to decide how to surprise him.  We had driven for about 7 hours from Warsaw to Zakopane, in the Polish mountains, without him knowing we were coming.  Since it was so late, our other ideas of surprising him were not feasible (for example, Ewa couldn't exactly ask him to go for a walk at that time while we waited for him in the bushes).  So instead, we did the only thing we could think of.  We opened the door and screamed.  

Mark, just before the surprise

Ewa knew we were coming in, but Mark looked up, completely shocked, and grabbed his heart.  We didn't think of the risk here, but I guess there was a small chance he'd have a heart attack.  He was caught completely off guard, and acting like he didn't pee in his pants, he put together all the lies.  "So this is really why we have a house big enough for 10 people for just the two of us?" he asked Ewa (Ewa told him that there was a mix up at the rental company and they gave them this house but they weren't allowed to sleep in the other rooms).  So that's why we took Andy's snowboard and his friend's skis (I was sure he'd get suspicious on that one).  So that's why you went outside to get more fire wood at midnight? (Ewa had to unlock the doors and gates for us).  So that's why you told me to put my pants on? (Thanks Ewa.  No explanation needed). The best line was when Mark looked at us and said "so you guys are staying here?" with the look in his eyes that said "oh no, you guys are staying here?!".  Sorry to ruin your romantic weekend, but it was Ewa's idea. 

Ewa proposed the idea of this surprise trip a couple months before, but we were not allowed to talk about it to anyone.  It was most awkward when a few of us were invited to a couple different parties that weekend, but we all had to say "we will not be able to attend", but not why or with whom we'd be.  "I can't go to your party, but I can't tell you why" sounds a bit shady, but we had to do it.  I guess it worked out because people understood afterwards.  But surprise parties really make you have to lie a lot.  Maybe that's why Ewa liked the idea so much. 

We headed out on Friday after work, Igors driving all of us.  It was quite a journey for just a couple days, but definitely a lot of fun.  On the way out there, we tried to find a good country style Polish restaurant out in the middle of nowhere.  They are quite popular outside of the big cities, and the food is usually just like a grandma makes it.  It's just sometimes unpredictable where they will be.  On the way to Białowieża a couple months ago, it was really hard to find one, and we drove around for a long time looking (then we picked a restaurant attached to a gas station with lots of trucks outside, and it was awesome).  But sometimes they are every few miles.  Generally people in the country side don't go out to eat (why would they, when they make better food at home?), so the restaurants are only for people passing through (and the truck drivers).  We stumbled upon a place called Lanckorona, a hotel off the main road.  It looked empty and dark when we pulled up, so I ran up to check if it was open.  The door was locked and all the lights were off, but an older woman turned on the lights and came running to the door when she saw me.  It was a bit scary to see a shadow in the dark coming at me, which turned into a white flash, which finally turned into a Polish Granny.  And the surprising thing was that she brought a smile with her.  It was Friday evening, around 9pm, and she invited me in.  

The place was empty but she said she would open the kitchen for us.  This is completely contradictory to my vision of Polish customer service.  She actually wanted to work for us.  She turned on all the lights, put on some music, and invited us into the empty dining room.  She must have been bored.  Then she took our orders, brought out the food, and it sounded like she was also doing the cooking.  Usually, it seems that the Polish "customer service" avoids the customer at all costs, so they have an easier time.  Even if it means losing business.  This was a nice change from that.  The only strange part was that she told us what we should eat...everything I ordered, she basically said "no you don't want that, it will take too long...you want XXX instead".  In the end, the meal was really good anyway.  She should have just brought it to me from the beginning.

Our own private restaurant

Since the drive was so long, I took a turn driving...it's nice to drive once in a while so I don't forget how.  I don't think I had driven since February in Hawaii.  It took me a while to get used to the 6 gears, with the reverse on the top left of the shifter, rather than bottom right.  But we survived without any issues.  This was another long road trip, a week after Igors, Andy and I also did a road trip the previous weekend to Torun, to do the half-marathon dressed as Santas.  I didn't end up dressing as a Santa, instead running with Spartans, since I didn't get to run with them during the big October 10 km run (right after I tore a pec muscle).  There was ice on the ground, but the sky was blue and it wasn't too cold: great running conditions considering it was December.  All the Spartans had met earlier, but I wasn't with them so I had to chase after them as they went to the start line.  Luckily I caught them just before the race started (and luckily it's easy to see them from afar).  During the run, I only slipped and fell on my face once (and put a big split in my shield), and after a few breaks and dancing Haka, we finished in about 2 hours 20 minutes.  That's about 35 minutes slower than I would normally finish the run, but I still felt really exhausted.  Good thing I didn't have to actually run hard.  You can also read about last year's 10km Spartan run here if you want to know how that went.  Anyway, sorry for the rambling.  Now back to Mark's birthday weekend.

Spartans keep warm with running pants and long sleeve shirts

Easy to spot the Spartans, even in a sea of red

After scaring Mark into possibly soiling his underwear (we should get him some adult diapers next time), we stayed up late celebrating and goofing around, enjoying the nice fireplace and rustic feeling.  It's hard to beat sitting around a fireplace in a house in the winter mountains.  When asked how he felt about the surprise, Mark said that since he was so sleepy, it took a bit of time to put together that he and Ewa had a big house that could fit several people, and that the rest of us were more people that might need a place to sleep.  He also told Ewa that it would be great to bring a big group of friends back to that house because it was so big and homey.  We were glad to grant his birthday wish.  The next morning we made Mark go shopping for us and cook us breakfast (thanks Mark, happy birthday!), and a few of the guys went skiing.  I met my PwC friend Aldona, and her daughter Lea for lunch.  Lea is barely 2, and speaks better Polish than I do.  Aldona thinks she was shy around me because she didn't understand the words coming out of my mouth.  Even when I spoke Polish????  It was fun watching her play, refuse food, eat, play some more, and basically take an hour and a half to eat 20 bites of soup and barley.

One-legged tooth brushing

Aldona, Lea and something else

Later that afternoon we all went to a spa (in Białka) for some relaxing in the thermal baths.  Sitting at the base of a ski mountain, the spa was amazing.  The outdoor pools surrounded by snow and mountains were pretty romantic (again, sorry Mark for invading on your weekend!).  They also had a really fast water slide, a wave pool, several indoor and outdoor pools, and some other things that kept us occupied (including a bar).  I was having so much fun I didn't realize my body turned really splotchy and red from getting too hot.  I had to take a break while everyone else finished up.  After 2.5 hours, we got out (it cost me about $10 after the discount for my gym benefits card, which was great) and headed to town for dinner.

No spa pictures, but here we are at our post-spa dinner

Exciting night at the post-spa bar

At the spa entrance

We like these old Polish country style restaurants

It was a long day, and everyone was too tired for a night out, so we went to bed pretty early.  After some shopping the next day, we got ready for the trip back.  Along the way, I taught the guys the Cha Cha Slide in a gas station parking lot to get our blood flowing.  A few cars came by to see what we were doing, honking and checking us out.  I'm pretty sure they were jealous. Next time we'll try to make a flash mob.

Although the trip was a fun one, a part of me stayed in Zakopane.  I had been wearing my purple "Hope" bracelet for the past several years, taking it off only to play basketball or if a doctor asked me to during a check-up.  I got it when participating in the American Cancer Society Relay for Life (over 8 years ago)...but after I left the spa, I couldn't find it.  I didn't take it off on purpose, so I guess it fell off somehow.  Maybe it was finally time to grow up a bit and stop wearing plastic jewelry.  If anyone is in Zakopane and finds something that looks like this, let me know.  I've been feeling a bit naked without it lately.

I haven't lost Hope!

During the trip we decided it would be funny to make a song for the upcoming WITC Christmas party, and the song "The Fox" was a perfect song to modify to sing about Ken, our fearless WITC leader who talks more than anyone should be able to talk.  Mark provided the high pitched voice, and everyone else supported with vocals, dancing, and ideas.  We rehearsed throughout the weekend anytime we had a few minutes...waiting to go out for a walk, before dinner, and in the car.  You can see our final performance, although we agreed that we sounded much better during rehearsals.  When singing live on stage, it wasn't easy to hear ourselves and adjust our tone with our million fans screaming their faces off.  At least that's what we tell ourselves.

In the end Mark enjoyed his birthday, and we all had a fun time.  Thanks Ewa for setting it up, and for being such a great liar. 

Back to Lithuania

November 1-4, 2013

An hour before I had to head to the bus station, I started feeling cold and dizzy.  I repeated a dozen times to myself "please don't be sick!" as in "please don't have a cold or the flu or some other kind of illness", but I should have meant it as in "please don't let your dinner come back up out of your mouth".  Five minutes later, my dinner came back up.  Without going into too much detail, after cleaning up the bathroom sink, I had the urge to crawl into bed and wake up after the weekend was over.  This feeling was so sudden, I didn't know what hit me.  How was I going to survive an 8 hour overnight bus ride to Vilnius (Lithuania) in this condition?  I waited about 30 minutes to decide whether or not I should stay home, and luckily I started feeling a little less like death.  I decided to make my way to the bus station, and get on only if I thought I could hold it together.  The cold, brisk air was very refreshing, and I started feeling better.  So I got on the bus and hoped for the best.

I was able to pass the first few hours by napping and listening the music, and everything was holding down well.  Then about half way through, I woke up and had to run to the toilet.  Throwing up on a moving bus on Polish roads (which are very bumpy) isn't an easy task.  And at about this time I really wished I was back in my bed. Luckily there was nobody sitting next to me on the bus, so I wasn't bothering anyone with my frequent trips down the aisle.  After every bit of food was out of my stomach, and a lot of teeth brushing, I got really hungry, but didn't dare risk eating the peanut butter and jelly sandwich I brought.  I didn't want to see it again 5 minutes later. I mean, that would be a big waste of valuable peanut butter!  A couple more hours passed, and everything was fine.  And for the rest of the trip, you wouldn't know that this even happened.  Especially since I didn't tell anyone.  Whew.

I went to Vilnius in early 2012 for a weekend with Conway, which ended with Conway in a situation similar to how my trip started this time.  She was so sick she couldn't get on the plane home.  We met Ugne and Simona on that trip, so my plan was to meet them again for the long weekend. Thanks to the pub crawl that they took us on last time, we didn't see as much as we wanted to outside of Vilnius.  So that was the first priority on this trip (primarily Trakai).  You can read about the last trip here.

Trakai is perfect for an easy and relaxing day trip from Vilnius.  It didn't take too long, but it also depends on if you like walking around lakes, enjoying the sound of wild silence, as birds and ducks pass by.  You could spend many peaceful hours doing just that.  The weather was perfect (for early November), and after exploring some trails and a floating bridge across the lake, we walked to the castle.  The castle is as picturesque as they come, the bright orange walls standing out among the greenery of the trees, and the blue of the lake.  It's 600 years old and sits on an island in the middle of the lake.

Trakai castle is fairy tale-ish

After a tour on the inside, we sat for lunch at one of the many restaurants along the lake shore.  When I say many, I mean about 5.  It's a small place.  We picked the restaurant that had a sign that said 1 lita (Lithuanian currency) to use the toilet, 2 to take a shower, and 3 to watch someone else take a shower.  You just knew it was a good place.  Within 3 minutes, we were already served food.  They only had 2 items on the menu - soup and kibinai, or you could get the lunch special including both.  And this changed my life.  The soup was a thick and chunky tomato and corn soup that I could eat every day, forever.  The owner boasted about it being home made, with 14 ingredients, and no added water.  But he didn't bother to tell me those 14 ingredients.  I will spend the rest of my life trying to figure it out.  And the kibinai?  Wow.  It's super delicious, something like a cornish pasty, but better (more about that later). Somehow the name "kibinai" sounds much more appetizing that "pasty".  Pasty sounds like a sticker you put over your nipple.  Oh wait, a pasty IS a sticker you put over your nipple, so why would you call something you eat by the same name?  The kibinai were so good that I've spent the last couple weeks begging Simona for a recipe.  She finally found one in English for me, and the first thing on the list of ingredients is butter.  A pound of it.  No wonder it's so good.  But really, if you ever go to Trakai, stop by the Home Lunch Cafe.  You should order 8,000 soups and 10,000 kibinai.  You won't regret it.

I've been dreaming about this ever since

We headed back to Vilnius, getting to the bus station 10 minutes before the scheduled departure.  Luckily we got on the bus, because it took off immediately when we got on.  I guess they don't wait for anyone!  Generally the buses were pretty frequent (every hour or so) and cheap.  It only took 25 minutes to get back to the city, even though it took 80 minutes to get there due to traffic.  I was getting really tired at that point, after the overnight bus from Warsaw.  But 8-9 hours on the overnight bus was actually only about 2 hours longer than a door to door trip flying from Warsaw to Vilnius through Riga...and it was less than $50 round trip.  So overnight bus was the best option. 

That night I went out to dinner with Simona and one of her friends from her home town, and her friend's friend from Germany.  We were at a place called Charlie Pizza, so naturally I ordered Lithuanian food.  The name of the place made it sound a little hokey, but the food was really good.  The interesting part about this dinner is that nobody was able to talk with everyone else at the table.  I was only able to talk to Simona, because she was the only one who spoke English.  Irida and Simona could speak Lithuanian together, but the German guy could only speak German (which Irida could also).  So if I wanted to talk to the German guy, for example, I would say it to Simona, who would say it in Lithuanian to Irida, who would say it in German to the guy.  Then his response would take another 15 minutes to get back to me.  It was like playing a game of "Telephone" where stuff literally gets lost in translation.  And I'm actually still waiting for someone to finally tell me his name!  I wouldn't call it the most efficient conversation, but it was still interesting to observe the power of languages and the benefit of speaking multiple of them.  Just imagine the awkward silence every time the girls went to the toilet together.

I didn't spend much time visiting places in Vilnius we saw on the last trip, but there were a couple other nice highlights.

In Vilnius there is a money museum, which explains the history of money around the world, as well as in Lithuania.  The first "money" was some form of grain and other commodities.  The grains were called shekels, like Israel's money today.  There was also amber, wax, shells, and rocks, and they had metal coins on display from 2500 years ago. It's interesting to think how money started.  How did they control who got the money, and who was allowed to produce it? It makes sense in a barter system, where the goods themselves have value, but who decided a handful of flat metal loops would be worth X number of chickens?  And what stopped people from making billions of their own coins and convincing others that it was worth a lot?  Well, I guess some places still do that today.

Another really interesting place is the Hill of Crosses, a couple hours from Vilnius.  The concept of the crosses on the hill began back in the 19th century when Lithuania/Poland were uprising against Russia.  Upon the failures, and the deaths of many, mourners could not identify or find the bodies of their loved ones.  So they started putting crosses on the hill of an old fort to pay their respects.  Over time, it became a place to pray for peace, and the number of crosses started growing.  Current estimates say there are hundreds of thousands of crosses there, but after walking through it, there could be beeeeeeellions (insert Dr. Evil muhhuhahahahaha laugh here).  Actually I have no idea what 100,000 crosses looks like compared to 1,000,000.  But there might be at least a million.  I mean, look at the pictures.  A lot of the crosses were wooden, which makes me think they will deteriorate very quickly in the harsh winters.  There were also many languages written on the crosses - English, Lithuanian, Polish, German, Russian, even Japanese and Korean. I was pleased to not notice any vandalism there, but maybe that just says something about my cynicism towards idiots who like to damage things just because they can.

Maybe billions of crosses? (or at least thousands)

Some strong guys brought the big statues

Simona also took some time to be a guide of her own home town - Telsiai.  It's a small town, sitting on a nice lake, that must be great in the summers.  We had a nice stroll around the lake and parks, just like the locals (she is a local, after all).  It was a bit cold, but there were still some die-hards going for late afternoon runs or bike rides.  It made me feel lazy, especially considering all the buttery kibinai I had been eating.  I also tried some pig ears, which is apparently a popular pub food to have with beer, but after one bite, I had enough.  It was a mixture of boiled, rubbery, crispy, and fatty parts.  There were too many textures and differences in consistency and taste in each layer.  I can't describe it, but you should definitely try it so I can see your face when you bite into it.

No pig ears for me, thanks!

The outdoor amphitheater along the lake in Telsiai

I stayed in a hotel where I was the only other person sleeping there besides the older lady that worked at the front desk.  She was very friendly, always smiling at me and talking to me, but not in any language I understood.  I think she mixed a bit of Lithuanian and German.  And she kept repeating things and saying them louder, just like we do when someone doesn't understand English.  I mean, that doesn't make someone understand those languages.  It was kind of funny, but she was super nice about it.  She cooked me breakfast in the morning, and was basically my private host.  The other great thing about the hotel is that they had Polish TV stations, including a music station where I first heard this song.  I've watched thevideo at least 20 times since then.  That night I stayed up up til 3 am watching the Seahawks barely beat Tampa Bay, after being down by 21, then passed out.

The next morning I got on the train to head back to Vilnius, but it was so cold outside, and steamy inside, that my glasses fogged up right when I got on.  I walked up and down the aisle unable to see the seat numbers, or anything at all for that matter, so I kept walking back and forth until my glasses defogged (a good 5 minutes). I would have wiped my glasses with my hand, but I was carrying all my bags and didn't want to stop to put them down since there was a crowd behind me.  It's kind of embarrassing to have to wipe your glasses to be able to see. 

Back in Vilnius, I was on a mission to find more kibinai before my bus back to Warsaw. I found great ratings for a place called Pinavija on Trip Advisor, so I walked the 20 minutes from the train station, just to give it a try.  And it was perfect - a buttery and savory crust with juicy meat inside, some juices dripping down my fingers as I quickly devoured it.  I especially love when the inner part of the crust is a bit soggy from the broth on the inside.  It's like a soup dumpling inside a pie crust.  How can you not eat a million of these?  It's definitely great with soup in the cold weather (and I still missed the tomato soup from Trakai). I had one chicken and one lamb kibinai, and was tempted to get another.  So I did.  They aren't that big, but after eating two, you feel a bit full because it's so rich and buttery.  And of course, outside there was another place across the street serving them, and I had to get another.   As I adjusted my belt and felt the butter clogging up my veins, the only thing I could think was "its gonna be a long 9 hour bus ride home".

Before getting on the bus, I stopped at a shop to pick up some "healthy" foods for a snack later.  I needed to balance out some of the butter with some fruits and veggies and lean meats.  I don't know about you, but after I eat really fatty foods, I actually feel better if I put some fresh, lean foods in my body.  Almost as if it cancels out the bad foods.  Let's just say it does.  On the way to Trakai, I mocked a girl on the bus for eating a jar of pickles on the bus.  Who does that?  Then I proceeded to buy a jar of pickles myself for the bus ride home.  Between the pickles, deli meats, and smelly hard cheese (which was lactose free), I'm sure everyone around me on the bus loved the smell coming from seat 11.  At least everything stayed down this time (and suddenly I just got worried that the smell coming from my seat on the way TO Lithuania was also bad...yikes).

At least time, the trip had a happy ending.  

Białowieża bison country: by the numbers

October 11-13, 2013

Żubr.  The Polish word for bison.  It's also a really awkward word to try to get your lips and tongue around.  Luckily we get practice here since there is a beer with the same name, as well as a vodka - żubrówka (they add -ówka to the end of words and suddenly it means a tasty treat made from that item - often times alcoholic).  Żubrówka vodka is fortunately not made from actual bison parts, but is known as bison grass vodka because there is a piece of bison grass in it to give it a bit of color (and flavor maybe).  Someone once told me that a bison pees on all of the grass before it goes into the bottles, but hopefully that's just an urban legend.  Actually, probably a lot of things pee on that grass before it goes into the bottle.  Who cares, I still like it, especially with apple juice (I never thought of that combination before coming to Poland, but it's very popular).  Anyway, since bison show up in Polish culture a lot, it seemed fitting to visit the part of the country where they live.  And Ken and Marta had the idea that we should get a small group to go.  What started out as just a few of us suddenly turned into a big group.  So off we went (of course, with some Żubrówka).  Mark, Ewa and I left Warsaw together expecting to be first to arrive.  But somehow we were almost last.

 

Białowieża

There were 14 of us in the group, and we took 4 cars, had 2 great dogs, and spent 2 nights in a huge house in Swinoroje that Marta found for us.  It was great that there were so many nice people to take care of me, since I was physically unable to do much with my arm injury (actually I was totally fine, just faking it so people would cater to my every request).  They cooked for me, tied my shoes, dressed me, and generally took care of me like I was a small child.  Ok, so nobody dressed me, I did it myself, because I'm actually a big boy.

 

Excited to see bison!

We didn't have much of an agenda, except to relax, walk in the Białowieża forest (the oldest forest in Europe), and enjoy the house and company.  I guess we had false expectations of seeing bison roaming the fields from our living room window, because there are only 500 in the whole region.  When we told our forest tour guide that we wanted to see bison, he said with a straight face "There's been a misunderstanding. If you want to see żubr, go to the zoo".  And that was the end of our dream (but we did go to the zoo and saw bison at least).  But only 500?  That was a surprise.  I guess there used to be many thousands, then it dwindled down to basically none because of hunting, until protection and controlled breeding brought them back into existence.

 

We wanted to see this in the wild 

 

But settled to see them in the zoo

Speaking of numbers, I'll tell you about the trip through these numbers.

1 - As in Uno, a game we played til the wee hours (Renata cheated, and when she didn't win, she threatened to dig some graves for us in the backyard).

2 - The number of Romanian feet dancing on the dining table while others were trying to play Pictionary on said table.  

3 - The number of items our waiter delivered to us in the first hour during lunch after the forest walk.  As in one beer, one water, and one Coke (not counting the 3 tea cups with no water).  In an HOUR.  For 11 people.  We went to a fancy restaurant called Carska, in an old train station, where the Russian Tsar used to go.  We were all tired and hungry, and the service at this place was the world record's worst.  We were in the private back room (which we thought was a good sign), and there was a private-private room that people had to walk through our room to get to.  For every 4 times the waitress went to the private-private room, our waiter came only once (and every time the other waitress opened the door you could hear everyone breathe in the air of hope, then breathe out the disappointment as she politely said "nope, not for you" and entered the private-private room, making everyone in there happy).  And generally our guy didn't do anything even when he came into our room.  He even talked back to us when we complained about how long it was taking ("this isn't a milk bar" was my favorite response of his, and it was kind of funny so I wasn't too mad).  Of course nobody was happy, but once the bread came out (over an hour into our stay), our moods shifted and all was well in the world.  The food turned out to be pretty good (but expensive), and not worth putting up with the service.  It had us reminiscing about the previous world's worse service in Ukraine.  

3.5 - The number of hours it should have taken Mark, Ewa and me to get to Białowieża.

6 - The number of hours it actually took Mark, Ewa and me to get to Białowieża from Warsaw. At least by going the long way through Białystok, it meant 2.5 more hours of Nirvana and Ace of Base sing-a-longs in the car

9 - The number of countries represented by our group. Agnieszka, Ela, Renata, Marta and Ewa from Poland, Russian Julia, Scottish Mark, English Alan, English/Martian Jay (people from Mauritius are called Martians right?), Italian Silvia (insert hand gesture here), Romanian Cristina, Aussie Mark, and Ken and me from US.  I love the mix! (updated - sorry Julia!)

O - That's not a number, that's the shape of a vinyl record.  And vinyl records are still cool.  The house had a record player (that many of us didn't know how to operate) with dozens of classic albums, and it reminded me of playing records at my parents house growing up.  For some reason the only record I can remember listening to as a kid was John Denver and the Muppets Christmas album.  I even have the album on my iPod today.  Don't judge until you listen to it!

10 - The number of zloty I lost to Scottish Mark, playing Poker from 3 to 5 am. Why didn't we just go to sleep?

11 - As in 11pm, the time Aussie Mark had to go to bed after he fell backwards in his chair having too much fun.  Ewa gave him the look, and Mark knew it was time.  And I mean the look of "YOU need to go to bed", not the look of "Hey baby, let's go to bed".   

15 - The number of pieces Aussie Mark cut my schabowy into at dinner one night, because I couldn't cut it myself with my injured arm (thanks dad!).  We found a GREAT meal at a truck stop in the middle of nowhere, where the food was super cheap and was made from grandma's kitchen (not my grandma, a Polish grandma).  Oh, how I love Polish grandmas (and my grandma too).   

18 - The number of wheels on the big semi-trucks, or "tir", that stop so the drivers can eat at the truck stops we passed.  "Tir" is the Polish word for semi-truck.  And to prove how simple the Polish language can be, a nice lady in a short skirt that stands on the side of the road waiting for a truck driver to pick her up is called a "tirówka" (see note above about adding "-ówka" to the end of words, and how it turns a word into a tasty treat).  If you don't understand the connection between these ladies and truck drivers, let's just say they are looking for a ride in more ways than one.  

19 - The IQ of the man who stopped his car in the middle of the highway to get out and yell at us for flashing him.  He was making some dangerous passes, so Mark flashed the lights to let him know to stop being an idiot (I guess don't do that next time, Mark!).  Anyway, we showed him who was boss by driving around his car on the shoulder and driving away.  A-hole.  But I guess he could have chased us down and axe-murdered us...luckily he didn't, and we got home safe and sound.  At least we know what not to do next time.  

120 - The number of minutes we spent with the guide in the forest.  He started off really grumpy, yelling at us for not knowing where the entrance to the forest was, seemingly trying to run away from us after taking our money, and generally being unpleasant.  But after we stepped into the forest, he transformed and magically became a very friendly and passionate guy, and the tour turned very interesting, listening to him talk about trees, mushrooms that look like a penis, the forest animals, and the history of the region.  Yea, they really did look like a penis.  Of course I took a picture, but I don't want to prove how immature I am by showing it to you. 

140.6 - The number of miles my friend Kelly swam, biked and ran in her Ironman race in Kona, in honor of her late friend Mari.  The race was during our night time on this trip...she started just before we had dinner, and finished just before we ate breakfast the next morning.  I tracked her on GPS and could watch her progress throughout the race...the technology is pretty cool! If you haven't heard Kelly's story, check it out. 

200 - The number of pierogi the Polish girls (and foreign helpers) cooked for dinner, using the mushrooms Ewa, Mark and Aga picked (Ewa is an expert mushroom picker).  And when I say "cooked", I mean that they had a dance party to Saturday Night Fever, while rolling and folding pierogi.  It was quite impressive. Afterwards, Ewa admitted that if we didn't boil the mushrooms for at least 20 minutes, we would have all gotten sick. So I think the dance party saved us. 

 

It took them about an hour to find 2 billion mushrooms

 

Pierogi party

 

They're supposedly cooking right now

587 - The number of times everyone said "Go Huskies" during our card games to support UW's game against Oregon (I got to make a rule in the game and made everyone say it at the end of every sentence).  Unfortunately we lost. Go Huskies.  

1,000,000 - The number of vibrant shades of red, orange and yellow that encompassed us all over the forest.  It's hard to beat the colors of autumn.

 

Colors of autumn

0 - The number of people out of  my 13 travel companions who responded to my request to quote them for this blog. So if you want to know their thoughts, I guess you'll have to ask them.  And if you think this post is boring, it's obviously their fault. 

0 - Also the number of days I want to wait til the next fun big group trip, although I guess I have to stay in Warsaw and work sometimes...  But I'm pretty sure you'll be hearing about another one soon.  Go Huskies!

 

Group hug, until next time...

UK wedding and countryside

"Where's my passport?", asked Mike, at 5:45 am on the day of our departure to London.  Our taxi was supposed to come in 15 minutes. I ignored him, because I had only a couple hours of sleep and was busy packing my stuff (and it's fun to ignore him).  Kristin was in the other room, getting ready as well, packing up her 17 suitcases.  Next thing I notice, all of Mike's clothes are scattered around the living room, and he is checking all of the pockets, compartments, jackets and pants that he can find.  "I haven't taken it out since last week when we went to Krakow".  There's no panic in his voice, just the sound of a sleepy hangover.  So does he really not have his passport?  Apparently not.  Uh oh.  My first thought was that it might still be on the train to Krakow.  But we didn't take out our passports, so that wasn't likely.  I started looking under couches, rugs, TVs, books, bicycles, basically everywhere a passport would NOT be, but I figured it was better than just standing there watching Mike slowly grow into a panic.  The cab was on its way, and he obviously wasn't ready. He checked everywhere.  Then he checked everywhere again.  Note: HE checked "everywhere".   As in only he can confirm that he looked "everywhere", whatever that means.  He only had a small roller bag and a small backpack, so there weren't too many places the passport could be hiding. 

We brainstormed all the places the passport could be, and he kept repeating in his hungover morning voice "Where is it?  I really have no idea" (he's from Quebec so you should say it with a French accent...but a Canadian French accent, because it's different).  He got on the phone with his Embassy (Canada, not France) to find out if he could travel without it.  Even though we were going to somewhere in the EU, he still needed his passport since he didn't have a European ID.  Already 30 minutes late, we decided to go to the airport anyway, to see if there was a way he could travel without it.  Kristin and I checked in, but then I realized that if Mike couldn't travel, I would have to stay in Warsaw with him.  So the agent at the check-in desk convinced me not to leave my bag yet, and to drop it off later if we decided we would travel.  Mike visited the LOT airlines office, then called his Embassy again, before Kristin and I listened to the bad news.  He couldn't fly and he'd have to apply for a new visa at the Embassy in Warsaw on Monday (it was Saturday), with the likelihood of getting the new passport a couple days after that. Basically, that was not good news.  We were going to England for Trish and Stu's wedding on Thursday, so we might at least make it in time for the wedding, but his "future wife" and 1 year old baby were already on their way to London to meet him that day.  They wouldn't be happy.  

We suggested that he check the pockets in his bags again, as now that he was a little more awake, and there was different lighting in the airport, maybe he would find it.  But he insisted he already checked "everywhere".  So, we accepted our fate, and said good-bye to Kristin, as she made her way to the gate, telling her we'd probably see her in a few days.  In my head I was thinking about all the fun we'd be missing out on in UK (but secretly I was glad I would have time to finish a bunch of work I had to do).  As we walked away, Mike made the inappropriate comment: "wouldn't it be funny if the plane crashed and we were supposed to be on it?".  No, actually it wouldn't be funny at all!  He wasn't serious.  At least I don't think he was.  Actually he probably was, but I'm going to pretend he wasn't.

I remembered someone told me that if you don't use your non-refundable flight ticket, it might be possible to at least recover the taxes.  So I went to the LOT ticketing desk to cancel the flight, to try to get some money back, and to figure out options to book the next flight.  I asked the agent if it was cheaper to book a new flight, or to pay the change fee, and she was looking into it.  She said it would be better to just buy a brand new ticket so I was about to tell her to cancel my existing ticket, and we'd just buy new ones when Mike got his passport.  Tickets were going to be around $300, which wasn't too bad for last minute flights.  Then I heard a soft, embarrassed voice behind me (in a French accent): "Tristan...".  I turn around, and standing there, with his dumb Canadian passport in his dumb Canadian hand, is dumb Canadian (French) Mike, with a dumb French-Canadian smile on his face.  I wanted to Canadian slap him.  If he had found it 5 seconds later, my ticket would have been cancelled, and I would have had to buy another one.  But I smiled, turned to the nice lady helping me, said "uhhh, nevermind" and within 2 seconds started running to the check-in counter.  It was closing in 10 minutes, and I still had to check my bag!  And of course, the line was HUGE.  Mike didn't have to check anything, and he already had his boarding pass, so while I was standing in line waiting to drop my bag, dumb Canadian Mike kept asking me "why are you taking so long?"  How not-awesome would it have been if he finally found the passport, but then I missed the flight because I couldn't check my bag in time, because the lady told me not to do it the first time?  Luckily, I got to the front with about a minute to spare, and the same lady who helped me before welcomed me: "I'm glad you're back, what happened?".  I explained that we could fly now because my friend found his passport in the last hour.  She didn't understand what I meant by "found his passport",  At the airport?  How is that possible?  Is he a dumb French Canadian?  The concept of him finding his passport at the airport didn't make any sense to her.  Nor to me, for that matter.  Only dumb French Canadian Mike could FIND his passport at the airport, after losing it somewhere else.  But anyway, we made our flight, and the week in UK began.  And I made him take back his earlier comment about the plane crashing. 

Apparently, the passport was in a secret pocket in his backpack that even he didn't know about.  The passport fairy must have put it there.  


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I was looking forward to this trip for a long time.  Mike and Kristin spent a week in Poland with me, then we were going to meet a bunch of other friends from all over the UK and US for the wedding.  We all know each other from our days working together in San Jose, CA and we've been on several trips in different corners of the world together.  The plan was to spend a night in London, a few days in the country side, go to the wedding, then visit Megan's family in Wales for the weekend.  There were 8 of us travelling together, plus Mike and Pascale's little girl, Amanda.  Marcie, Michael, and Marilyn made 8. 

 

I don't know how Mike left this little one to come to Poland for a week

We had scheduled out roughly what we were going to do and where we were going to stay for the week, and lucky for me, someone else was in charge.  I was pretty busy with work and other stuff that I didn't have much chance to do any planning.  Luckily, I was able to just show up, get into Mike's rental car, sleep where people told me to sleep, and everything was taken care of.  After lunch on the day we arrived, we spent most of the afternoon taking a nap, since everyone had flown in on red-eyes from North America, and we were going to have to stay up all night to party with Trish and Stu.  We joked that it was a combination bachelor/bachelorette party (which they call stag and hen do's in UK), so a combined party would be a "hag party".  It was funny at the time, so it's ok for you laugh a little.  Our hotel was near Trafalgar Square, which meant easy access to lots of shops, food, bars, and stuff to keep us entertained for the day we were in London. I definitely prefer the "cute" streets of London and not the huge attractions, and we got a little of that.  It's always a shock to remember how small Warsaw is compared to these huge cities.  My favorite part about it was that we found a Chipotle, and I was able to get a burrito for breakfast on the morning we left. I was their first customer, standing outside their door 10 minutes before they opened, leaning against the door, with my forehead and nose on the glass.

The dinner and party was fun, at a place called Little Italy in Soho.  The 8 of us met with Trish and Stu, and another friend who lived in San Jose with us, Cath, also joined.  She was visiting her family in UK but lives in San Diego.  After dinner the place turned into a dance club with tons of bachelorette parties (so there was a really good ratio), with 70s and 80s music.  The only downside was that a shot of vodka was either 10 or 15 GBP, depending on the brand.  For 10 GBP you can buy a bottle of vodka in a bar in Warsaw.  I guess we weren't in Warsaw anymore.  But you do get free water in UK, which we don't get in Poland, so that basically made up for the high prices.  No.  No, it didn't. 

 

I still don't know what I'm supposed to do with this

The next day we went back to the airport to pick up rental cars and took off to the Cotswolds.  The Cotswolds are an area in England with rolling hills and gorgeous landscapes that is literally classified as an Area of Outstanding Natural Beauty, according to Wikipedia (seriously, that's a real thing). We stopped in Windsor on the way,to visit the Queen (the flag was up so I guess she was home) on this wet and windy day (but that's not news, it's the UK).  The one surprise is the food we ate was really good.  Meat pies and, well, meat pies, were what I liked.  Amanda the baby had the duck for lunch, as she does (seriously...she eats better than I do).  We drove to our cottage in Willersey without any problems driving on the wrong side of the road (thanks Mike!).  The buildings don't have house numbers so they give the houses funny names, like Yew Tree Cottage (ours) and Turnpike Terrace (they sound like names from video games).  The cottage was really big, with everything we needed.  I slept on the sofa bed downstairs, far away from the snoring, coughing and baby noises.  So even though I didn't have a proper bed, I probably got the best sleep.  We stayed there for 3 nights, playing in iPads, or visiting the village pubs each night ("pubbing", as we call it) - the New Inn and the Bell Inn.  When we went in the New Inn, we obviously looked out of place because everyone stopped and looked at us.  They were really nice in the end, but we felt a bit like we were intruding.  When there are only 2 pubs in the village, and nothing else is open, I guess they get to know everyone.  One entertaining thing was that a drunk "regular" asked Mike if he was Needledrop.  We were all really confused, thinking he was making some weird English joke (or maybe we didn't understand his accent, since English people don't speak English very well).  Turns out Needledrop is a blogger who this guy follows.  He pulled up a picture of him and we all laughed for the next 3 days straight.

 

The Bell Inn, in Willersey

 

Pascale and Needledrop

 

Mike  

Often when you think of places in the world that would be "easy" to visit, you think about countries where they speak English.  Naturally that means it's easier to communicate, read signs and menus, and figure out what is going on around you.  But not really here.  I mean, do they even speak English in England?  I'm not sure.  They use weird words, speak in a weird accent, and all of the town names are tongue twisters. Just a few places we saw along the way: Stow-on-the-Wold, Moreton in Marsh, Evenlode, Chipping Campden, and Aston Subedge.  Like most English towns or street names, they are probably all pronounced completely different than they appear.  Seriously though, do people actually say "I'm thinking of stopping for lunch in Moreton in Marsh" or "The Ikea in Stow-on-the-Wold is really nice"?  Why can't they have normal, easy-to-pronounce names like Kazimierz Dolny and Nowy Dwór Mazowiecki?

In order to find to some smart people to talk to about their so-called English language, we headed to the famous town of Oxford.  I didn't realize it, but Oxford is home to many different colleges, not just one main one.  And the buildings look like Hogwarts!  I felt smart just being there, and found myself muttering "Expelliarmus" from time to time (you're a nerd if you know what that means).  We learned a bit about the strange names here, in that the name Oxford (from 1100 years ago), comes from the combination of oxen and ford (river crossing), because that's what used to happen there.  Ok, so, that actually makes sense.  1 point for England.  Another weird named place we went to is Stratford Upon Avon (the river is called Avon).  Of course, this is where Shakespeare was from, born there in 1564.  You probably didn't know he was that old, since he married Anne Hathaway, and she still looks pretty good for her age (although I didn't like when she cut her hair short in Les Miserables).  Wait a minute, is she French or English?  Anyway, we did the "Stratford Town Walk" tour for 5 GBP around the city, with a very funny older British guy.  I think all older British guys are funny...something about the accent and the fact you can't understand it, but they speak very confidently, and other people laugh, so it must be funny.   I picked up a book they recommended about the origin of the idioms that we use, and how Shakespeare was very influential in those (like something being "Greek to me", tongue tied, or vanishing into thin air).  

 

Oxford 

 

Shakespeare's house

 

Stratford upon Avon

 

One cool chick

Another educational tidbit is that the term "shire" basically means an area of small towns.  Apparently it was not invited by the Hobbits.  So a lot of names in England end with -shire, meaning it's the bigger region of a collection of towns (or villages), like a county.  So Worcestershire is actually a shire that includes the town of Worcester, and it's also where Worcestershire sauce is from.  And that's why we pronounce it differently than it's spelled (Worchester, instead of Worchestersure), because the English don't speak English!

Stonehenge and Bath were a couple other stops during the week.  The Stonehenge audit guide was interesting, but didn't really say much other than "we don't know why or how they built it".  It's still pretty amazing to see.  In Bath, the group walked around while I worked in a coffee shop (nothing interesting to say about that).

 

Amanda loves Stonehenge

 

Even after all these adventures, the main attraction was Trish and Stu's wedding.  We checked into our hotel (the Talbot Inn in Somerset), a nice country inn, with super friendly staff, about an hour before we had to head out.  Living in Poland, I miss places with super friendly staff who actually make you feel like anything is possible, and they actually want to help the customer (you know, like do their job).  We basically had 45 minutes to get ready for the wedding, then headed over to Babington House, a gorgeous place for a ceremony.  It looked like something out of some English movie in the 1900s.  And the wedding itself was great.  The speeches had me dying of laughter (after you figure out what they're saying, those English are so funny!).  We looked at the menu and thought we'd have to choose out of a selection of 3 starters, 3 mains and 3 desserts, but in fact we got all of them.  And not to be outdone by Polish weddings, they also had food and drinks and dancing until 3am (the only thing missing was Polish vodka).  I got a side ache while dancing because I ate so much...I didn't even know that was possible.  We partied all night, and the happy couple was there with us til the end.  They must have been exhausted, but Trish was able to do a little Irish jig with her sisters and mom, and hang out with us til the last person dropped (and most of her 8 siblings stayed til the end as well - yes, there are 9 of them...an Irish family!).  Since we came from all over the world - England, Canada, East Coast, West Coast, Australia, and of course Poland, they wanted to spend the time with us.  We had all scattered after finishing work in San Jose (3-5 years ago), and it just goes to show how much we wanted to be there with them, because they're an amazing couple - the nicest and most accommodating people.  One thing I appreciated about their wedding is that it was on a Thursday, which is a great idea.  After the wedding, you still have the whole weekend to recover! It's great!

 

Talbot Inn

 

Are you kidding me with that wedding chapel?

 

Trish getting jiggy

On hangover Friday we packed up our stuff and headed to Megan's family in Wales (in Rhoose, a village close to the capital of Cardiff).  When we crossed the border into Wales (it's a different country, you know), all of the signs started having even more funny, more unpronounceable words on them. It was like we just went into a strange alien planet, with subtitles. Her parents were lovely and accommodating to let all 8 and a half of us stay there.  Her mom even granted our wish by cooking cottage pie (the beef version of shepherd's pie) and beef cobbler for dinner. It was so awesome I couldn't sleep because my stomach was too full.  Sitting next to Marcie I was always tempted to help her eat her leftovers.  Bad idea!  But also a great idea. 

 

English hangover breakfast, minus the beans

 

What?

 

Someone's cat was walking on the keyboard again

The next day, Megan's dad took us on a tour of Cardiff, first to St. Fagan's castle, next to the open air Welsh History Museum.  One of the guys who used to live in the castle was named Other.  I thought it was that one, but it was the Other one.  I laughed for about 5 minutes, until the security guard-slash-tour guide told me that you don't pronounce it like that.  We thought he was the security guard (he was dressed like one), because he was just standing there staring at nothing.  But once I started giggling at the guy named Other, he corrected me and made a 10 minute speech about the history of the house and the family that lived there.  It was actually pretty interesting, but then I started laughing again.  Sorry to anyone named Other.  The "house" itself was just like Downton Abbey, with sitting rooms that they didn't need, huge bedrooms on display, servants areas with bells that ring when someone needs something, a big kitchen where all the cooks and helpers made the feasts, and on the wall was posted a list of duties for Mr Carson the butler, Mr Bates the valet, Mrs Patmore the cook, and all the maids and footmen. I guess it used to be like that in real life (and maybe still is in some places).  The open air museum was also really cool, with different buildings and styles to show different parts of history, farming, and infrastructure.  Definitely more interesting than walking through a building seeing small scale models and pictures.  In this museum, we actually got to go inside all of the exhibits.

 

St. Fagan's castle

We also took a walk around Cardiff Harbor, which is very modern, and the city center, which is more old-style traditional, with an 11th century castle in the middle of it. We had a good lunch at the harbor, but an even better Indian dinner at Raj Kinara with Megan's parents and Aunt/Uncle, near their house. They were all super friendly and the food was fantastic.  The United Kingdom's national dish is actually Chicken Tikka Masala, so I'm not surprised that the Indian food is good.  Even the power outage while we were waiting for our food didn't dampen the mood.  It was out for entire meal, and it got a bit hot and stuffy, but generally everything went on like nothing happened. Nobody in the restaurant complained, nobody left, even those waiting to be seated continued to wait.  The servers worked extra hard to make everything work, and in the end, we enjoyed the meal by candlelight. I had some lamb and potatoes in a tomato-based minced lamb sauce (lots of lamb in Wales), with rice, salad and naan. I could eat that every day. Every day until my heart stopped I guess.  It was our last big meal in the UK, as the next morning we headed back to London to head home.  It was a great 8 days, and a great way to see more of the UK countryside.  I'm glad that the trip that almost didn't happen, ended up happening without any major hitches.  There's still a lot more of the UK to see outside of London, and I hope to get to more in the future.

 

Cardiff Harbor

 

Dining in the dark

#100: Bike trip to Ciechanów and Maków

This is the 100th entry on this blog since I moved to Warsaw about 3 years ago, which means I've had a lot of stories and experiences to share.  Whether you've read only 1 post, or all 100, 10 times each, I am happy to have you here.  I don't take any of that for granted, as every trip, race, and cultural experience has made my time here something pretty wonderful, and I love sharing it with you. 

The bike trip I want to tell you about is no exception.  Thanks for visiting!

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July 11-13, 2013

When Mark told me about his plans to do a 200+ km bike trip from Warsaw (over a couple days), I assumed he had others going with him.  Or at least his girlfriend.  When he told me he was going by himself, I immediately imposed myself on him, even if he didn't want me to, and even if it would make his girlfriend jealous.  It was for his own good anyway, as I didn't want him to bike alone on the road with all those crazy Polish drivers, or have to drink vodka alone in the hotel bars every night.  I'm so thoughtful that way.  But really it was more for me, so I could explore more of Poland with someone who knew where he was going, and so I could get in a bit of bike training before another triathlon. 

The idea was to ride north through Ciechanów, a town most known these days for its castle and brewery, then head East towards Maków Mazowiecki, near where Mark used to visit his family as a child.  Mark is from Australia but has Polish roots, and spent time at the family's house in the Polish countryside.  He goes on a bike trip every year, and since he hadn't visited this place since he moved to Poland, he figured it was time.  I was happy to tag along.

We headed off around mid-day hoping to arrive by dinner.  Our friends Tyler and Carolyn recently published a cycling guide around Warsaw (ibikeWawa - which you can download now for the very low price of 9 Euros!!), with very in-depth descriptions, directions, pictures and information about various bike paths they've taken around the city.  They have a route to Ciechanów so Mark printed the route and away we went. 

 

Mark gets style points for his reflective shirt

One of the discussions we had prior to leaving was if we wanted to carry tents and sleeping bags with us, or if we'd stay in hotels along the way.  We decided that the small hotels (i.e. Bed & Breakfasts) would be easiest, so we didn't have to carry extra gear.  I also don't have any saddle bags for my bike, so everything I needed had to fit in a backpack. And I definitely wanted to limit my mosquito exposure, so sleeping indoors sounded better to me.  This has been on the of worst years for me regarding mosquitoes (mozzies, as Mark says).  I can't remember a time when I didn't have multiple bites on my legs and neck.  In fact, I sometimes avoid outdoor social events, because I don't want to get malaria (or spend my entire life scratching myself...I'm not a dog). 

Following Tyler's route was pretty pleasant, apart for a few dirt paths and bumpy gravel.  It took us through various towns, some roads that seemed to go in circles, crossing railroad tracks, and through scenic farm lands.  After a bit of "what the heck was Tyler thinking when he said we should go this way???", we realized that it was indeed the best route to take and their directions were spot on (good job guys!).  Because we couldn't go too fast on the bumpy roads, had to stop and check directions periodically, and because we are old and our legs get tired, it took about 6 hours to get to Ciechanów (nearly 90 km).  We passed cows, miniature donkeys, dogs, storks, and old men sitting on the side of the road staring at us.  The weather was perfect for a bike ride - not too hot, overcast to protect us from the sun, but no rain, even though it was in the forecast. 

 

I don't know what these are, but they're funny and I want one

 

 

Stork nests everywhere

In Ciechanów we checked into Baron Hotel, just next to the main square.  Within 5 minutes of checking in, we were sitting in a beer garden next to the brewery with a Ciechan beer in our hands.  My favorite honey flavored beer comes from Ciechanów (Ciechan Miodowe).  But here, they offered all kinds of beers, many of which I hadn't seen in Warsaw.  Of course I tried a new one, so I could tell everyone about the different beer I had at the Ciechan brewery.  And it was pretty good.  Except I don't remember what it was.  So next time I will probably just order honey beer again.  Basically I failed. 

 

I'll just order this one next time

We took a walk around the castle, noticing several groups of locals hanging out in the field next to it, sitting on bales of hay, drinking Ciechan beer.  It must be what people have been doing in this town for the past 1,000 years.  If you weren't lucky enough to live in the castle, you sat outside, getting drunk, waiting for something fun to happen. 

 

The same picture as on the beer bottle!

The great thing about Ciechanów is that there are three kebab restaurants in the main square. So, that's what we ate for dinner.   After biking for 6 hours, drinking a couple beers, and smelling the good ol' brewery smell (I really like it), I could have eaten anything.  We went for the extra large combo plates rather than just a kebab.  Even though the lights in the restaurant kept going out, the food was actually pretty good.  Until I found a small worm (maggot, I guess) slithering around between the cabbage leaves.  Normally I would have been grossed out, because maggots are generally not my friend, but I was so hungry I just ate around it.  Mark was nice and complained politely to the staff there, and they actually gave me my money back (biggest shock of the century).  I was sure to eat all of the meat and fries before they took the plate. 

 

Try to find the worm

Before taking off the next day we did a quick tour of the Ciechan castle.  The castle itself is in the middle of a field with nothing really around it.  It didn't make sense why the castle would have been built there, until we saw pictures of the early days, when there was a moat and natural protection.  There actually wasn't much inside, apart from a visitors center, with a few exhibits of swords and artifacts going back 700 years, and the towers, which you can go in.  The center of the castle itself was just an open space.  We went at 10 am, but the towers didn't open until 11.  Since the towers seemed to be the main attraction, we decided to wait.  We tried to sneak up the staircase on our own, but got yelled at by one of the workers.  It was Polish worker efficiency at its best.  The guy came over to yell at us not to go upstairs, because there was nobody around to watch us to make sure we didn't touch anything.  Then he went back to what he was doing before - standing around with 5 other guys, watching one guy attach a hose to a faucet.  For 20 minutes.  Mark and I competed to make the most sarcastic comments under our breath as we stood there watching.  We enjoyed re-enacting the conversation we thought they were having. The funny thing is that there was nothing in the towers that we could have damaged or touched, so they didn't really need to have someone watch us.  And they locked me in the tower after the guides took everyone around, so they weren't watching us very closely anyway.  Mark had to tell them I was still up there so I could get out! 

 

It takes 6 people to spray water on dirt

 

I was trapped in the tower!

 

It looks better from outside the castle walls

After stocking up on pączki, bananas and Powerade, we headed towards our next stop - Maków Mazowiecki.  My legs were a bit wobbly, as the 90 km from the previous day was probably the most I've ever biked in a single day.  Luckily day 2 would be less than 65 km, so it was a "short" one. It was tough riding on the road on a mountain bike, just because it goes slower than a road bike or a hybrid.  But the hardest was carrying 20 pounds of stuff in my backpack.  So my back and butt hurt more than my legs.  I had to ride standing up for a few kilometers at a time, to keep my back upright and my butt off the seat. 

Because we weren't in a big hurry to get to Maków, we had some time to explore.  We found a little castle and park in Opinogóra, which had a place called a Romantic Museum or something like that.  Mark and I didn't go into the Romantic Museum together, but at least the park was nice to stop in and ride around.  This is one of the great parts of bike trips - the random exploration you can do in places you'd never usually stop or see when traveling by train or car.  You also don't appreciate the smells and the sounds when in a car, but on a bike, we could smell the grass and flowers, and could actually hear the silence, when there were no cars within miles of us.  There were cows, chickens, wheat, corn and fields of hay everywhere.  I got lost in day dreaming many times (luckily Mark doesn't say too many interesting things, so I could ignore him most of the time). 

 

Romantic museum (or something like that)

On the second night, we stayed at Gospoda Pazibroda, a couple kilometers away from Maków.  It was a really nice little bed and breakfast, in a beautiful setting, with a great restaurant, and less than $30 for a single room.  I had an amazing steak and potatoes dinner with delicious mushroom soup.  After two long days, Mark and I were exhausted, so after a post-dinner walk, we both went to bed.  We stayed in separate rooms this time, because that's what they had available, but also it was so cheap, it didn't matter (and you know, after the Romantic Museum, it was a bit awkward).  But really, sometimes it's nice to sleep in a room alone.  At least I thought I was alone....  Before I went to bed, I noticed a mosquito in the room.  I checked the window and it was closed, but somehow the little guy got in.  So I chased him around a bit before finally smashing it with a piece of paper.  I had survived most of the trip so far without getting bit, so I had to get him before falling asleep, otherwise he'd devour me. 

 

I ate a great meal, before I became a great meal

I was sleeping peacefully until the sound of helicopters overhead woke me up at 4am.  Wait a minute, that wasn't a helicopter, that was a mosquito flying around my face.  I jumped out of bed, quickly turned on the light and put my glasses on.  I had to hunt him before he bit me. I sat perfectly still, waiting to hear the buzz again (I put my body under the blanket so he couldn't secretly bite me).  I finally saw him approach me, and in one deft stroke, clapped my hands at the air where he flew.  I opened my hands to see if he was there.  Got him.  Now exhale.  I got back up to turn off the light, smiling at my success.  Then a sharp chill ran down my spine and my smile turned into fear. Looking up at the ceiling, I saw something out of a horror movie.  It was my worst nightmare.  The ceiling was covered with mosquitoes (ok there were only 4, but it seemed like a million).  W.T.F.???  I looked around the room for something I could defend myself with. There were no magazines to slap them with, and I could only wish for one of the big bug smasher guns my Aunty Lilly used to have when I was a kid (it was a spring-loaded gun with a flat, soft plastic end that would smash bugs against the wall when you fired it...but we would shoot it at each other, rather than at bugs, because it was more fun that way).  The ceiling was too high for me to smash them with my hand, so I grabbed the only thing that I could throw at them.  My pillow.  Which was white.  As was the ceiling. 

I didn't have time to consider the consequences, as I rapidly launched the pillow towards the ceiling (think Angry Birds) and hit one of them.  It left a nice black smear on the ceiling.  I momentarily did a little cheer in my head. Then the rest of them scattered and were flying all over the room.  Crap.  I sat down on the bed staring at the ceiling, waiting for one to land again.  When it did, I launched the pillow again.  This time, the smudge on the pillow was blood red.  Yup, my blood.  Blood smeared on the ceiling and pillow was gross, but I didn't worry about it...I had a war to win.  After killing the other 3, I thought it was over.  I checked the window again to make sure it was closed...how else were these guys coming in?  It was definitely closed, but upon further inspection, there were 4 or 5 more mosquitoes sitting on the window...on the INSIDE!  I swung wildly at them, getting one, but the others scattered.  So I went back to the bed, to stare at the ceiling again, waiting to see them land.  I was chasing them around the room for the next hour, barely breathing as I tried to listen for the buzz and to wait for them to reveal themselves.  My heart was seriously beating fast during this battle, as if I was in some scene from Lord of the Flies.  In total, I killed 12 mosquitoes between 4 and 5:30 am.  TWELVE.  After which I was so jittery and shell-shocked that it took a while to fall asleep again. 

When I woke up, I looked around the room, which looked like the aftermath of a zombie war.  There were black marks all over the walls and ceiling, mosquito corpses scattered around the room, body parts everywhere, and the pillow case was pretty disgusting (luckily I had two pillows).  I feel sorry for the guy who had to clean my room.  Mark was happy to not have been there. 

And my legs, arms and neck were all itching again.  Dammit.

When I said that Mark doesn't say interesting things, of course that was a lie.  Mark's family has a very interesting story.  As a kid (a LOOOOOOOOONG time ago), he visited Poland many times.  We found the house/land where the family used to vacation, but it has become infested by the overgrowth of bushes and trees.  After the house burned down several years ago, nobody took care to upkeep it.  So, the family stopped visiting.  Mark told stories of playing in the fields, visiting the town, flirting with all the Polish girls, and we even went the corner candy shop he used to frequent.  I found it interesting that the teenage girl working at the shop had Mark's same eyes........  I wonder if that's just a coincidence..........hmmmmmmmm........??????  We also visited the cemetery where most of his ancestors are buried. It took a while to walk around to find it, but since he remembered the tomb being under a tree, that helped narrow down the search (we looked around all the tress).  All the graves were huge and had multiple people living there (I realize that's the wrong word to use, but that's how I want to describe it). Even though his dad survived the war and is buried in Australia, Mark also told about his dad being imprisoned in Auschwitz for being part of the national army (I told you Mark was a kid a LOOOOOOOOONG time ago). His dad didn't really talk about it, as I can imagine it would have been difficult. 

 

Mark's dad has the same picture of himself in front of the tree

 

Exploring the property

 

Paying respects at the Poczman tomb

Mark himself is a bit of an inspirational story.  He's a lawyer by trade (ok, not that inspirational), but after many years living the corporate life (he was even a PwC partner for some time), living in various cities around the world, he decided to take a break from that, moved to Poland to get in touch with his roots, and has been teaching English in Warsaw for a couple years.  It's nice to see someone not get too engulfed in the corporate world, realizing that there are other things in life to enjoy.  And to actually do something about it. 

On the way back to Warsaw we passed through a couple nice places - Pułtusk, a little town on the river with a nice castle and really long market square (supposedly it's the longest market square in Europe), and Serock, just along a huge lake with nice paths around and lots of people doing water sports.  We ran out of bike friendly roads in some parts, so we had to go on the main roads with cars and trucks zooming by.  It was great for training because we were going really fast to get off the road as quickly as possible. 

 

Along the lake at Serock

After riding about 230 km over the 3 days, it felt great to get back to Warsaw.  Our daily mileage (or kilometerage) was 88, 60, and 85 km.  It was great to see Warsaw's surroundings that I hadn't seen before and to take it in more naturally, rather than in a car or train.  It was also great to see a bit of Mark's childhood and heritage, and I'm glad he let me join him.  It was another successful and very enjoyable trip. 

After I wrote this, a friend of mine in the US had just finished a 5,000 km bike ride across the US in 2.5 months.  5 THOUSAND.  I didn't even do 500.  I didn't even do HALF of 500.  So his was almost the same thing as my trip.  Or not.  Check out his feat here.