Not so legal – Krakow

I’ve barely made it to the flight. I was stopped by police, then some nice finnish guy disassembled my bike to pieces, and some nice finnish lady told me it’s too late. It was intense, to say the least.

Here’s how it all happened.

My hostel accommodation (1 bed in 18 beds dormitory room) wasn’t the comfiest choice, but it had its advantages. First, it was in the northern part of Helsinki, meaning relative proximity to the airport. Second, breakfast was included. And, as a wise man said once, nutrition is key.

My flight was scheduled at 10:45. Hostel breakfast was being served from 7:00. My plan was to leave the hostel by 7:45, make an easy 18 km ride in 1 hour, which would leave me with 2 hours before taking off — not too much, but good enough to pack my bike (1 hr tops) and get through the airport security.

Well, my calculations were almost correct. Except that they weren’t.

Easy ride to the airport might have happened on a road legal vehicle, meaning car or something like that. I was on a bicycle, and highways were closed to me.

Knowing that, Google navigated me to the network of smaller roads, with lots of traffic lights, roundabouts and turns. Apparently I’ve made some wrong ones, and after 15 minutes of cycling I’ve realized I am not getting any closer to the Helsinki airport.

At this moment I was like: “Okay, it is getting interesting!”.

After a struggle with Google maps I’ve made a decision to use the highway after all. I knew it’s not exactly legal and quite dangerous, but well, this is Finland, everyone here is a pro-driver and a very polite and intelligent person as well. Finns would not drive over me.

And they didn’t. But oh boy, they honked at me! 1 of 20 car and 1 of 1 bus and lorry drivers decided to show me how wrong I am and how they are dissatisfied with my behaviour by using their mighty horns right as they were driving pass me.

The only silver lining was the road itself: I am not a crazy person to ride a bicycle on a highway lane, I was using the technical part of the road, which was quite wide and seemed safe. Well, safe enough.

I was making good progress, as a police car appeared and blocked my way. Uh-oh.

I didn’t wait for police people to ask me what the hell I am doing, you are fined, let’s do some paperwork and miss the flight. I made my move first: I asked them to help.

I told I have tried to use smaller roads but was lost, and now I am scared shitless by those big lorries and please please could I go with you guys, your car is big enough? Pretty please?

It wasn’t a lie or an act — I was quite anxious and really hoping they would pick me up and give me the lift to the airport. Unfortunately, they refused. I was politely told to take the very first exit from the highway and never get back on it. Never.

Also they agreed to be in this post.

Okay. I behaved and took the very first exit. Together with Google we’ve found a nice bike lane heading towards the airport. I wasn’t that late. Things were still good.

And… after a while I was lost again.

Another 10 minutes wasted.

I had to violate my oath to the police and switch back to the main road for the last mile or two.

Finally, at 9:18 I was entering the T2 terminal. Flight was at 10:45. 40 minutes to pack. It’s doable.

I have started preparing the bike for the flight: took off the front wheel, lowered the saddle, and fiddled with the steering wheel, as it should be turned to the side and secured that way. As I was doing this, a guy came over, took the mulitool and started helping.

I was glad and amused, until I realised he totally disassembled the steering wheel. Fork, steering, bearings, all the smaller stuff I am not sure how to name properly — everything was lying in pieces on the floor.

I kindly asked the disassembling maniac to leave and started putting everything back together. It was 9:45.

At this moment I was like: “I still got it!”. I switched myself to a Hyper Focused Turbo Ilia Mode and in 15 minutes I was at the oversized/special luggage desk with everything packed and ready.

And then I waited. And waited. And waited for the luggage lady to make the moves that were meant to be made to send my bike down the oversized/special luggage way.

— It’s too late, she said at 10:08. — Your bike was supposed to be ready by 10:00, 45 minutes prior to you flight.
— But it was ready by 10:00! Let me show you the picture, I’ve made it for my blog!

I don’t know if it’s the power of visual storytelling or what, but at this moment her radio went on and said something in Finnish.

— Oh!

The lady was visibly surprised.

— Your bicycle will be accepted. Follow me.

At this moment I was like: “That was pretty darn close”.

And so I followed.