Day 3 - Rostock, Germany to Gdansk, Poland - 1257 miles

Our resolve to rise early failed us, of course. We left Rostock in fine rain but it had been raining all night and the roads were treacherous. I skidded the car on a sharp bend leaving the city and by luck, or rather superb driving skill, avoided colliding with anything solid. There are bound to be at least a couple of near misses along the way but despite my beating heart we had escaped the first. We couldn't get any coverage of the Malaysian Grand Prix on the radio so we eventually requested the results off my brother by text. Kit insists I was trying to tune the radio as we skidded but I don't remember it that way.

I expected crossing the Polish border to involve some sort of security level but there was nothing. We passed by some old rotting wooden huts where I suppose people used to show their passports. Within a 100 metres of crossing the border shifty looking men stood at the roadside trying to sell cheap cigarettes to anyone in a foreign car. We passed groups of people dressed in their Easter Sunday best heading for church. The town quickly morphed into a pine forest and what appeared to be marshland. The Sat Nav is programmed to avoid toll roads but not ferries and within minutes of crossing into Poland we found ourselves at what appeared to be a deserted ferryport on the edge of a river. For the second time we found ourselves at the mercy of the sat nav. I drove back to the border with the intention of finding another route but realised it was impossible without a map and time was already wasting. We returned to the ferryport and quickly noticed that while the ship directly in front of us was deserted the one to our left, only slightly obscured from our view, was gathering a small queue of customers. To my relief the ferry was free. Have I told you I hate paying tolls? I don't think there is such a concept as a free ferry in the UK. Nearly all the cars on the ferry and the consequent road to Gdansk were German or Brits and we found ourselves in a queue or around 20 cars winding its way through Poland at a terminally slow pace. The first portion of the drive was somewhat tedious and we had lost an hour waiting for the ferry. The road was infested with speed cameras as we drove through numerous small towns. We attracted the attention of a Brit in an Audi who constantly tried to overtake us despite the obvious properties of the autosnake we had become part of. I let him by but then past him at a junction when he chose the wrong lane which only resulted in further silly attempts to get past us again. I almost felt like I was at home driving to work but the Sat Nav came into its own and we turned off the main road by ourselves, lost Mr Audi driver and regained an hour touring through some beautiful Polish countryside all alone, blessed by some lovely spring sunshine.

We arrived at our hotel on the outskirts of Gdansk without difficulty although the narrow entrance to the car park required some careful driving much to Kit's amusement. Our room again included kitchen facilities but we were hankering after some of the best apple pie in Europe so there was no question of us wasting a second of time and we headed into the city centre.

The hotel manager directed us across the major roadway in front of the hotel to the nearest tram. A clearly mentally ill woman wandered up and down the station as we waited. I don't speak any Polish so I can't tell you what she was saying to everyone but it clearly wasn't polite or in touch with reality. A single journey in Gdansk costs 3 Zloty but I never saw anyone pay and the driver appeared surprised when I asked her for tickets. Maybe it was my immaculate phrase book Polish that phased her but I think not. We decided not to validate our tickets in the machine provided and instead saved them for a free journey back. Well, when in Rome...



We had a very pleasant family holiday in Gdansk a few years ago and Kit and I revised our memories of the place by visiting various old haunts. First on our intinerary was Pi Kawa, one of the finest cafes in the world and certainly the place where the best apple pie in the world can be obtained. It has a pastry base, a thick layer of stewed but firm apples laced with cinnamon and a thin apple crumble-type topping flavoured with cinnamon that is grilled into a chewy toffee-like consistency. It is served with cream and ice cream sprinkled with more cinnamon. Not forgetting lovely coffee although Kit plumped for Earl Grey tea as is his want. Pi Kawa is a lovely, relaxed cafe with a variety of seating and tables and a Bohemian feel. It consequently attracts a relaxed bunch of customers from all walks of life this side of suits and uniforms as well as family groups. I love kids in cafes and restaurants, I don't understand those who don't. I had thought we would sing our song at the gates to the famous Gdansk shipyard at the very spot where European history started to change in the 1980s but we asked if we could play to the cafe and much to our delight they said yes. On this occasion we did atract a small audience including a little toddler who swayed in rhythm to the song. Pi Kawa holds a special place in the heart of our family and to play there was the first special experience of this holiday.





We felt so high on leaving Pi Kawa, joyful even. We strolled through the town and took a look at the flat that we rented previously. We then walked through the main square to the waterfront and watched a man making candy floss in a variety of bright colours. Kids love candy floss and a small group of them bobbed around not very patiently waiting for their turn. Gdansk was quiet and most everywhere was closed including the majority of eating places. We guessed that this was because we had arrived on Easter Sunday. We had planned to eat in a traditional Polish restaurant we'd visited before but found it to be closed and more worryingly apparently tarted up. Not at all tarted up but equally closed was the milk bar we'd visited on our last trip. Milk bars are a throw back to communist Poland and a place where it is possible to eat a hearty, substantial meal in distinctly 1970s surroundings and ambience, subsidised by the state. For some inexplicable but delightful reason many have survived the transfer to capitalism and continue to do a roaring trade. The system in a milk bar is to grab a tray join the fast moving queue and choose quickly. If you can't speak any Polish then point at the dishes you fancy but peruse the menu beforehand to identify traditional Polish dishes such as tripe soup (Flaki) or stuffed cabbage leaves (Golabki). Fussy eaters should avoid the milk bars but anyone adventurous of stomach will find them to be a delight. The last time we were in Gdansk I had two very large and stodgy potato pancakes with a bright radioactive-green sauce which turned out to be tangy stewed apple.

Gdansk is a beautiful city and we had a very pleasant spring evening wandering around. We ate dinner on the waterfront as darkness fell at the one traditional Polish restaurant that was open. We started with the famous Polish sour soup, Zurek, which is flavoured with smoked sausage and bacon and generally includes boiled egg amongst its ingredients. I had some ordinary squid for my main course and Kit had some gorgeous salmon flavoured with dill butter. After our meal we wasted another hour walking around this lovely city almost reluctant to leave.

Back at the hotel we had free wired internet access and I wrote some of this blog while enjoying a nice cup of Earl Grey tea. See told you it would come in useful.

And so to Russia. Tomorrow is the day I go to visit my mother's birthplace. I still don't know if I will get into Russia. No English insurance company will insure a private individual to take a car there. There are all sorts of scare stories about Russian drivers, Russian roads and Russian police. If we manage to get in then we will see which of them are true. Even if we do get in we have no guarantee we will find what we are looking for. I have no maps; just a collection of Google satellite images, some place names and the memories of my Auntie Ursal told to me over a cup of coffee in her kitchen in Eschweiler-Dürwiß. The place where she ended up after being chased out of her homeland by the Russians.

HOTEL INFO -
Pensjonat Agis
Drwecka 9
Gdansk, 80-110

Tel - _48583031688

Situated just off a big busy main road in a residential area on the edge of the city. The nearest tram station is a ten-minute walk away and reached via a complicated pedestrian crossing. Trams cost 3 zloty. The hotel is like a large house. It has a private car park at the back but the gate has to be opened before you can drive in. Entrance to the car park is a little narrow so take it carefully. The hotel manager was very friendly and helpful. He seemed to do everything and was the only member of staff we saw. The room was off a shared kitchen area where you can make a hot drink and where breakfast was served the next morning. Also in this area is free wired internet access. Our room had no TV but this wasn't a problem. There wasn't a great deal of space in the room and our luggage got in the way. Bathroom facilities were shared but we didn't see another soul so it felt private anyway. The breakfast was included in the room price and consisted sliced ham, salami, cheese and bread with some warm sausages and a chocolate bar.