Krakow – Krnica

I am so full and drowsy so I will just post several pictures and write some captions. Blog must be blogged, but sleep must be… slept?

So, polish people are very tall.

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Their beer is very excited.

They drink 95% spirit.

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They greet Johan with sieg heils.

They are into bentwood.

They are not really good with aligning things.

They are quite laconic with signs.

They like to dig.

And they have prepared a splendid apartment for us.

Here’s Johan enjoying the apartment literally 5 seconds after he went in.

I hope these guys will add to this post with blogging gems of their own, as I am going to sleep now.

Tomorrow we are going to ride 140 kilometers. Or 180, as some other sources say.

Exciting!

Swedish first, English scroll down

Äta bör man. Personan Guide-Johan yelpade oss till en bra restaurang som serverade pirogi.

Tyvärr var den stängd när vi kom fram eftersom vi gick förbi ett postkontor och skickade lite bikebags och cykellås i förväg. (Med hjälp av en riktig pantertant.)

Men sedan hittade vi ett annat plejs. Med piroger på menyn och en barpianist minsann. Åtminstone tror vi han var det. Tekniskt sett kunde han ha lagt patiens där bakom eller lagat till våra piroger. Fint var det hur som helst.

English version below

One should eat. The persona Guide-Johan Yelp:ed us to a good restaurant that served pirogi.

Unfortunately, it was closed when we arrived because we passed a post office and sent some bikebags and bike locks to Vienna advance. (With a little help from a real golden oldie.)

But then we found another dealer of boiled pastries. With pirogi on the menu and a bar pianist doing his thing. At least we think he was. Technically, he could have played solitaire behind that black thing, or maybe he was preparing our pasties. Anyway, it was good.

Johan sköt mig just i ögat med en gummisnodd. Kul att han är här.

English:

Johan just shot me in the eye with a rubberband. Nice that he’s here.

Efter lite meck fick jag och Ilia ordning på Åbäke och vi kunde lämna Johannes Paulus II:s flygplats. En ganska lättsam cykeltur genom polska landskap, som inte gjorde mina fördomar besvikna, senare var vi i Krakow. Google Maps föreslog en ganska rejäl omväg. Vi fnös och satsade på raka spåret. Det tog oss till en gata, huvudstråket runt hörnet från lägenheten, som hade grävts upp i sin helhet och var näst intill omöjlig att korsa. Tillslut hittade vi en lucka och även lägenheten. Allt i den är kantigt.

Nu väntar vi bara på Lag Syd så börjar resan på riktigt.

English version:

After some trouble me and Ilia got my bike up and running and we could leave the AirPort of Johannes Paulus II. What followed was a nice ride theough Polish landscapes that loves up to my preconcieved notions. Soon we were in Krakow. Google Maps suggested quite an indirect path which we scoffed at. The more straight route brought us to the mainstreet near the apartement but this street was totally dug up and nearly impossible to cross. We finally found a way over to the apartement. Everything in it has corners.

Now we’re only awaiting Team South.

English further down

Ok, vi har just tagit oss igenom något av en pärs och firar nu med öl. Detta hände:

Vi var framme i god tid på Skavsta och Fredrik gick fram till Airport Information för att be om lite bred tejp att sätta ihop våra drottningliga plastväskor med. Då fick han svaret att ”de där kommer inte att funka ni måste ha riktiga cykelväskor eller pappkartonger”. Lite kris uppstod men Joel kopplade på sin persona ”Landsfader-Joel” och beslutade åt oss att vänta 40 minuter till bagageincheckningen skulle öppna med orden ”det här ordnar sig, det har det alltid gjort”.

Parallellt med dessa lugnande ord utförde Joel (i personan ”Curling-Joel”) ett antal manövrar ”i det tysta”. Han ringde kollegan Frida som har sommarstuga nära Skavsta och kollade om hon ”i värsta fall” kunde åka med bilen till en cykelaffären i Nyköping och hämta tre cykelkartonger. Vidare gick han till Pressbyrån och köpte 6 st stora plastpåsar att knyta runt varje cykelpedal.

Sist men inte minst gick Curling-Joel fram till Airport Information och började lugnt berätta om Drottningens av Storbritannien cykelväska/-påse med orden: ”vi förstår vad ni säger men jag vill bara upplysa om att detta är specialbeställda cykelväskor med Drottning Elizabeth II:s av Storbritannien sigill. De må se ut som plastpåsar men de är extremt slitstarka.”

Det Joel hade glömt var dock att Ryan Air är ett irländskt flygbolag och därmed struntar rätt så hårt i huruvida Storbritanniens drottning av utfärdat ett plastväskedekret eller icke. Kanske blandade Joel ihop flygbolaget med det något mindre brittiska flygbolaget Brian Air? Han fick i alla fall ännu ett ”Nej det här kommer inte gå”.

Men på något sätt mjuknade ändå hjärtana på flygplatspersonalen av våra uppgivna/snälla utseenden (om än att vi bara gått in i för tillfället lämpliga personas) och sökte strax upp oss och sa: ”jag ringde huvudkontoret och överdrev rejält att era plastpåsar var av specialsuperplast så nu har jag fixat så ni får åka med.”

Och tillslut kom vi igenom både inchecking och säkerhetskontroll.

Nu lyfter planet!

English version here:

Okay, we just got through something of a tough situation and are now celebrating with beer. This happened:

We arrived in good time at Skavsta and Fredrik went to Airport Information to ask for a bit wide sticky tape for our royal plastic bags. He got the answer that “those will not work you must have real bike bags or cardboard boxes”. A little crisis arose, but Joel connected to his persona “father of the nation-Joel” and decided on behalf of us all to wait 40 minutes for the luggage check-in to open with the words “this is going to sort itself out, it always does”.

In parallel with these soothing words, Joel (in the persona “Curling-Joel”) performed a number of maneuvers “silently”. First he called his colleague Frida who has a summer cottage near Skavsta and checked if she “in the worst case” could take the car to a bicycle shop in Nyköping and pick up three bicycle cardboard boxes. Furthermore, he went to the convenience store Pressbyrån and bought 6 large plastic bags to tie around each bicycle pedal.

Last but not least, Curling-Joel went to Airport Information and began to quietly tell them the story of about the royal bike bags using the words: “We understand what you say but I just want to state that this is specially ordered bicycle bags with Queen Elizabeth II’s royal seal. They may look like plastic bags but they are extremely durable. “

What Joel had missed, however, was that Ryan Air is an Irish airline and thus ignores  the if the Queen of the UK has issued a warranty for a plastic bag or not. Maybe Joel mixed up the airline with the British airline Brian Air? Anyway he got another “No this will not work”.

But somehow the hearts of the airport staff still softened watching our sad / kind faces (albeit we might have just entered the appropriate personas at the exact precise moment) and approached us and said: “I called the head office and exaggerated to the point that your plastic bags were of special superplastic so now I have fixed so you can get on the plane”

And finally we got through both check-in and security control.

Now the plane is lifting!

Kaj decided to replace the tube just for the joy of it.

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All set! Now we will grab some food and head to the city.

Here’s his busy face.

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.

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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.

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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.

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I am writing this post in Krakow airport waiting for the first wave of Swedes to arrive. I’ve just got the bike, it seems to be in one piece.

And there’s also a dog. Dogs are always a good sign.

Vaknade till tråkiga nyheter som ökade på resnerven. Jag flyger så sällan att jag aldrig känner att jag har koll på läget. Jonas var min livboj men nu stod det klart att jag var alena, en ensam båt på ett öppet hav.

Framme vid Arlanda Express insåg jag att jag glömt nyckeln till mitt lås. Därmed får jag kånka runt på en kloss som adderar vikt men inte säkerhet. Fantastiskt!

Väl på flygplatsen var det sedvanligt strul med att checka in cykeln. Skiftnyckeln har rostat igen så att få av tramporna tog orimligt lång tid. Sedan gick inte emballaget genom scannern. ”Vi får göra ett snifftest istället” sa personalen och jag slet upp telefonen för att dokumentera när schäfern medelst sin nos skulle konstatera att allt var kosher. Men hunden uteblev till förmån för en liten remsa lakmuspapper. Besvikelsen!

Sedan behövde jag något att läsa eftersom Jonas inte är med och kan dra långa haranger om allt jag inte bryr mig om. Vilket utbud de hade!

I säkerhetskontrollen fick jag ta av mig skorna, vilket förnedrade alla inblandade.

Nu sitter jag i en bar och käkar svindyr frukost ackompanjerad av orimligt mycket Bruno Mars-musik. Det känns så ovärdigt.

Har jag sagt att jag älskar att flyga?

Swedish first, English below

Dagen för avfärd är kommen och Lag Syd har cyklat till Cityterminalen för att åka flygbuss. Johan har inhandlat de obligatoriska Drottningens av Storbritannien plastpåsar och vi packar in cyklarna i dem:

Det krävdes en del trixande för att komma först i kön och när Johan och jag (Joel) gick för att köpa kaffe blev Fredrik utskälld av logistikpersonalen och skickade detta i den interna chattkanalen:

Tillbaka med kaffet var kön extremt lång och Fredrik stod med tre (kungligt) inplastade cyklar längst bak. Vi behövde ju verkligen komma med den här bussen. Då hände det oväntade: Johan kopplade på sin persona ”Buffel-Johan” och bar fram cyklarna längst fram och sa: ”vi har stått här en timme, vi ska med.” Och eftersom svensken i allmänhet inte önskar konflikt så gick det vägen.

Snart på Skavsta!

Första lilla sträckan hemifrån Joel till Cityterminalen:

Relive ‘Luma – Cityterminalen (för flygbuss till Skavsta)’

English below

The day of departure is here and Team South has gathered at Stockholm City terminal to go by airbus to Stockholm Skavsta. Johan has purchased the mandatory Royal plastic bike bags and we have packed the bikes in them:

It took some trixing to get first in line, and when Johan and I (Joel) went to buy coffee, Fredrik was yelled at by the logistics staff and sent this in the internal chat channel:

Back at the line with coffee, Fredrik was standing with three (royally) wrapped bicycles at the back. We really needed to catch this bus. Then the unexpected happened: Johan turned on his persona “Buffalo-Johan” and carried the bikes to the front and said: “We have been here for an hour, we are going to mount the bus now.” And since Swedish people generally does not like conflicts, it worked.

Soon at Skavsta!

The first short ride from Joel’s home to central Stockholm:

Relive ‘Luma – Cityterminalen (för flygbuss till Skavsta)’