Friday 
1.8.2025
677km Total: 1135km 
8h 26m Total: 15h 08m
3.84km Total: 6.8km 
I roll off the ferry around half past seven and head straight for the motorway.
Unlike the last time I was here, when I actively avoided the motorway (which led to average speeds of 50 km/h), this time I go all in.
I need to get as far through Poland as possible today, and I make good progress during the morning.
After driving on a toll road and not rolling into a toll station until after more than 200 kilometres, I was really impressed; the equivalent of 80 Swedish kronor (~€7) was definitely worth it.
Compared to Spain, which had insanely high tolls about every 20 kilometres, it felt like the Poles where actually clued in as to how it's supposed to be done.
After covering 300 kilometres by lunchtime, I book accommodation in a village southwest of Krakow, which gives me a daily total of just under 700 kilometres.
It's hard to see the logic when the next 200 kilometres are on an equally nice motorway but without tolls, but I'm not complaining.
Not about that, anyway, because I found something else to complain about when I rolled into the first traffic jam.
As the traffic crawled along at a speed just below where the clutch engages on the bike, the heavens opened up.
I had all the vents on my gear wide open so the rain poured straight in, and I had no way of stopping to seal them.
I'm also starting to get cramps in my left hand from all the damn clutch work.
If someone had mic:ed up my helmet at that moment, the profanity I was screaming probably could have caused generational trauma for the listener.
Unfortunately, the rest of the afternoon proceeds in much the same way in terms of traffic, with two tolls causing total gridlock at each payment point.
The second half of the day takes twice as long as the first, and when I roll into the hotel, I stumble into reception like a ninety-year-old man with two stiff knees.
While I hang my clothes up to dry and wash myself, an air-raid siren goes off, followed by an emergency signal.
As no bombs were obviously being dropped, I didn't think much more about it although I found it a bit weird.
I sit down in the hotel restaurant and order bacon-wrapped prunes for starters and ‘Polish boiled meat’ with horseradish sauce for the main course.
This hearty meal naturally calls for the nectar of the gods, so I order a Kropla Beskidu 0.5L, believing it to be delicious Polish beer.
Thank goodness the waitress asked if I wanted sparkling or still, because if I had thought I was going to get a mug of beer and had gotten a glass of water instead, I probably would have cried.
Now I know how the participants in the programme “Seconds Before the Disaster” feel.
To digest my food, I go for a short walk and, having googled and found that there is a deserted mansion within walking distance, I head towards it.
However, I never find any mansion, as it would have meant walking through someone's garden first.
What I do find, however, is the local fire brigade's barbecue party, which explains the earlier spectacle.
Apparently, they think it's fun to sound the sirens while they drink beer (which to be honest it quite objectively is).
At first, I think it's a bit immature to sound an air-raid siren purely for the entertainment value, but while I'm within earshot, they play a Boney M medley.
I have to admit that after hearing that a strong warning was after all warranted.
It was a rather picturesque hotel.
