Breakfast was a welcome meal after having missed an evening meal the night before. Our Russian breakfast was much the same as other European breakfasts but we were served sweet blinis and salad in addition to the usual cold meats and cheese. We didn't hang around after breakfast and got on our way. My first task was to reverse the car down the road the hotel was on and negotiate the potholes through the car's rear window. We then entered Kalinigrad's rush hour traffic. Our plan to get away early had failed and Kaliningrad was in full swing. In addition to the poor quality roads we now had to contend with Russian pedestrians who walk into and across a road whenever and wherever they want, causing yet another hazard. Russian pedestrians must either have right of way or be completely mad. I quickly became thoroughly stressed all over again attempting to avoid mad drivers, potholes and death wish pedestrians. After well over an hour we eventually found our way out of the city with a combination of the Sat Nav's compass and moderately good luck. We were not sorry to see the back of Kaliningrad.
Some of the route on the edge of the city was poor quality, single track roads but we eventually found some decent motorways and headed for Mamonovo which we knew to be near the border. It was going to be easier to find our way back once we were out of the city as if we went too far west we would simply meet the coast and be able to follow that. As we approached Mamonovo there were signs to the border which we followed but once again this led to a closed border crossing that looked as if it was under construction. We back-tracked a little and found a sign that said Mamonovo 8km. We turned onto the road to find Russia had saved its best for last. This 'main route' to Mamonovo turned out to be a dirt track through woodland. We would have been better off without a road. It took us another hour to drive 8km on the worst road I'm ever likely to drive on.
It was so bad I drove most of it in first gear at a snail's pace. Astonishingly, we met traffic. When we finally reached the end I was so relieved that the car was still in one piece.Our progress through the border crossing felt painfully slow but took 2 hours, the same length of time as coming. We were kept waiting for what seemed like ages in a queue and a curious Russian came to talk to us. I told him we were from Liverpool and he said he was a Beatles fan so we played a few Beatles tunes on the iPod. He went on to tell us the story of his life but when he got the interesting bit about him working for the Russian secret police the traffic started moving and he disappeared. This time we attracted different sorts of attention and more difficulty from each Polish check than with the Russians. A Polish officer clearly thought we were not geniune and thoroughly checked my passport as if she felt it was a fake. She was also unimpressed by the photos. I'm older than I once was and carrying a bit of extra weight at the moment which means I don't look like my passport photo and Kit's passport photo is an awful one. She spent ages looking at the photos and checking our faces. We just had to grin and bear it. Actually, that is exactly what Kit did which led to the seriousness of the officer's expression breaking into a smile for which she added another ten minutes wait onto our time before letting us move on. After passport control, customs control and the checking of our car and my driver's documents we came to a final security check. This time the officer came out of his hut to talk to us. He asked me to open the car boot and my case for a cursory look and then interviewed us about what we were up to. I told him the whole story about visiting 18 countries, singing a song in each one and looking for my mother's birthplace and he shook my hand and said, 'Oh you are good people. You can go through.' Russia was finally behind us and we both breathed a sigh of relief. I have to say that every Russian we met was friendly and kind, including the border guards, and we owe a debt of gratitude to Russia and its people. I would not recommend going to the Kaliningrad area though and anyone who travels there in a car has to be out of their tiny little minds.
The drive to Częstochowa was a bit of a slog. Predictably, we found ourselves in queues of traffic which grew slower as we approached cities. Our route took us past Auschwitz and I half-heartedly suggested we stop for a look. Having been before we decided to press on. As we progressed the weather improved from drizzle to beautiful spring sunshine and the Polish countryside was again very pleasant. We stopped at a couple of garages for coffee and chocolate to help keep fatigue at bay. We've come to enjoy our stops along the road and have been trying different chocolate products we've never seen before with varying success. There is good coffee to be had along the road in Poland but the chocolate bars leave something to be desired. We've been buying way more than we can eat and have a shopping bag that is gradually filling with various exotic products.
We arrived in Częstochowa early evening and headed straight into the city which is famous in Poland for being the birthplace of a pope and the home of a painting of a black madonna that is said to be able to perform miracles.
Częstochowa has consequently become a place of pilgrimage for Poles but is less well known in the rest of Europe. Try to find an entry for it in a UK guide book and you will mostly fail. The centre of Częstochowa is little more than a large main street with a boulevard up its middle, Ramblas style, and churches at either end. 
We decided to walk in the direction of the Pauline monastery of Jasna Góra, home of the Black Madonna painting. We thought we might as well take a look despite having no pressing need for miracles but we became distracted by the shops along the way. We bought some food in a Tesco store for tomorrow's breakfast but still no shoes so I will have another day driving in my slippers tomorrow. And joy of joys, we found a great record shop. I'd much rather browse a record shop than go to a church or view a miracle. I must have spent an hour browsing the shelves and using the listening post. Polish music is really, very underrated and my interest has been growing in recent years. I bought a couple of CDs and Kit insisted on buying some Polish Pokemon cards for his collection. Darkness had fallen while we were in the shop. We decided to forego seeing the black madonna and instead began to investigate the restaurants.
I have a general rule of eating local food wherever I am but Częstochowa's restaurants were all Italian apart from one Egyptian restaurant. Kit didn't like the idea of Egyptian food so Italian it was. A comparison of menus revealed the likely most authentic restaurant and we bizarrely entered Italy for a couple of hours. The restaurant was run by an Italian and he and his friends were watching Inter Milan on TV. The menu was adventurous and we ordered roast rabbit and sole only to be told neither were available. The waitress spoke no English and had problems understanding my Polish so we entered into 'lost in translation territory' and all of Kit's dishes arrived first followed eventually by mine.
Kit had a Spaghetti Carbonara followed by grilled salmon and I had a seafood risotto followed by knuckle of veal with a tomato and mozzarella salad. The food was fantastic, great value for money and full compensation for being not quite what we wanted. On leaving the restaurant we had a strange sensation of leaving Italy and re-entering Poland. 
We strolled back down the boulevard to our hotel in a very relaxed state. We both enjoyed Poland immensely but today's drive had taken a lot out of us. We were tired and decided to get straight into bed and have a longer sleep before heading for Bratislava.
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