Viaje a ninguna parte

The travel log of a motorcycle journey to nowhere (in reverse order)

The traveller’s autumn

Two days after autumn equinox; twelve hours between sunrise and sunset; fourteen hours of daylight, and dwindling. Temperatures around fifteen Celsius. The season has arrived with on time showers — though it’s sunny today. Location: Kostrzyn, a town on the east shore of the Oder river, border with Germany. Behind me, Gorzów Wielkopolski with its … Continue reading »

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Gorzów Wielkopolski: Heart of darkness

It is said that, when the Polish came to Landsberg for repopulating the town, they found the empty dwellings as had been left by the germans when hastily evacuated them: furniture, belongings, pantries and even –in some homes– the meal in the plates at the table; as if a ghost town whose dwellers had suddenly … Continue reading »

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Szeroka droga

Farewell, Torun, my old friend; good bye to you. I carry on riding miles on Rosaura’s wheels, heading for Germany. Today, September 21st, autumn arrives punctual with a first shower — rather a deluge, that forces me to seek shelter under a porch, in Szubin. Luckily I wasn’t in the middle of the countryside. I … Continue reading »

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Hotel Przystanek

I leave Piecki behind on a fine motorcycle morning, cool and sunny, riding along a road with curves and hills (much to be desired in this rather flat country) and one of the worse pavements ever: so wrinkled and pot-holed you feel your limbs and junctures at the edge of dislocation. When going past Novy … Continue reading »

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Kapliczki and the Tannemberg memorial

Middle of September 2014. It’s about time to pay a little homage to the kapliczki, humble crosses or chapels scattered all over Poland and whose origin no one knows for certain: some say they were shrines dedicated to Dionisos; others, representations of St. Martin’s cape; yet others suggest ancient totems or pagan icons. Almost invariably … Continue reading »

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A meeting with magic

Three days in Bialystok bring me new acquaintances (like Maka, the young Georgian volunteer, or Grzegorz, the bat researcher) and an unexpected meeting with homeopathy. It’s a farm in the countryside, ten minutes by motorbike from Tykocin, where Beata, a maseuse I had met years ago in Warsaw, lives and works these days. For the … Continue reading »

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Upon the trodden track

Here and there, through the layer of clouds, a few sun beams shine on the land, cheering up the countryside. Behind me, noise of passing cars and lorries. I’ve pulled to the shoulder for a moment, right after leaving behind Vilnius’ outskirts, and take the day’s first notes. I’m heading Marjampole for merging into the … Continue reading »

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Vilnius, Jerusalem of the North

I wake up with the optimistic idea that today must be better than yesterday, simply because it can’t get any worse: my adventure with the Devil on wheels has meant a minimum below which I don’t think I’ll fall, at least for the rest of this trip — which can’t be very far, by the … Continue reading »

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