It's been a while since I wrote a story from the road. Since this is a people story and not really a ride story, I have stuck it in here.
This story commences on my ride coming back from Aberdeen in Scotland (following the Euro Rally in Maidstone) this last August (2013). I am starting from there as there are aspects that are relevant to what takes place further down the road.
I had decided to do Aberdeen to Dover in one shot.
I set off from Aberdeen after being very kindly looked after by Colin and his family (Bodger on here).
Colin and myself in front of the statue of William Wallace in Aberdeen.
Since I had gone up the east coast of England on my way up, I decided to head south to Dover again down the west side, the M74 and M6 via Glasgow, Carlisle, Lancaster, Manchester, Birmingham etc.
I don't know what the weather had in mind, but in Scotland I had to deal with high winds up to the English border and from there onwards heavy rain non-stop all the way down to Kent. The English portion was mostly night-time (with a longer stop in Birmingham, for a breather). I hit Dover around 02:00 am, and the ferry left at 02:30 or something.
In the port at Dover.
I crossed over to Calais in France, rolled into Belgium and had to stop for a while as my eyes were closing.
I stopped in the parking area of a supermarket for an hour and whipped out the "luxurious" camping chair I bought at a gas/petrol station somewhere outside Lancaster.
It seems I fell fast asleep for an hour or so as the sun was boiling by now and I thought I had missed half the day.
I continued into Holland and messed around several cities (meeting friends) for most of the day.
The last leg for the day was to slip into Germany and hook up with BA member Nick in Bielefeld, Germany.
I finally got to his house sometime after 10 at night. Nick kindly put together a feast a king would appreciate - he must have known I was starving.
The next morning we lazed around drinking coffees and yacking and then Nick rode with me to the highway/autobahn.
Nick rode out to the highway to see me off.
I was heading for Hannover, Berlin, Dresden before slipping into Poland and ending up in the city of Wroclaw.
Entering Poland.
Kathy and her sister Carolina were waiting for me in a park near their home.
Now I either looked like a hungry dog and the girls felt sorry for me or they were reading my mind. Again a feast fit for a king was prepared.
I had changed my route and instead of going to Gdansk on the northern coast of Poland I went down south to Wroclaw as I had promised Kathy I would do something for her. And I keep promises.
As the participants of the rally will remember, I had picked up Kathy in Paris on my way up and she left for home from London (after the rally), before my continuing up to Scotland, so I had seen her 10 days before.
Kathy with Dave (Hedgehog on here) at the rally.
Once in Wroclaw I felt a strong fever coming on. It probably was all the rain I had encountered on my way from Scotland on my way down to Dover in the south.
Anyway, we stayed up talking the whole night and the next day, poor Kathy went straight to work. To top it all, after work she went running around for hours trying to find some medication for my fever.
It turned out I couldn't leave the next day as I was shivering from the fever so I ended hanging out there for another night.
The next day I loaded up the bike and prepared to leave. I was feeling terrible, but at the same time, I was a little embarrassed as I was by now intruding in the girls' life.
I mustered up as much energy as I could, said my "goodbyes'" to the girls ... and was on my way.
The route I had planned on was to head east from Wroclaw to Katowice and then on to Krakow (of Auschwitz fame/infamy).
From there I would turn south and go through the Zakopane mountain area and on, into Slovakia.
Well, I didn't make it. I stopped after 45 minutes as I couldn't continue anymore.
I stopped the bike at a bus stop, parked myself on a bench and just sat there, with my head hanging forward and down.
Needless to say I was dreaming of a decent bed, but knew I had to push on.
This is where the "plot thickens" and we get to the real subject of this story.
There is absolutely no exaggeration in what I am about to describe.
Five minutes after I had sat there, feeling very sorry for myself, a car stopped in front of me.
A young man jumped out of his car, looked at the bike (probably saw I had foreign number plates/tags) and asked, "are you ok?".
I replied telling him I had come a long way (of course this was not true but I just wasn't up to explanations and fuss) and that I was just very tired.
He wished me a safe journey and went on his way.
It was not 2 minutes later, another car stops. It was an identical repetition of the first encounter. Again I was wished a safe journey and the second fellow also went on his way.
5 minutes later, another car coming from the opposite direction (not the direction I was heading), crossed over to my side and parked in front of me.
A young lady in her early thirties jumped out and came towards me.
I looked up at her and thought "God, I am going to fall in love!". She was a beautiful. classy looking girl. One I could easily take a long walk with.
Again I got the question, "are you ok?". I started telling her the same story I had told before. "Do you have a cell phone ... can you call somebody if needed?", she asked.
I'm not sure she quite believed me, but I told her that I did have a cell phone and that I also had friends in the area, and to not to worry.
She went to her car and came back with a small bottle of water.
This was a godsend as I was parched.
It seems the high fever had dehydrated me and I hadn't got onto the highway yet, where I would replenish my supplies at a gas station.
I gulped half the bottle down and looked at her, wondering if I should have told her I didn't have a phone and that I was lost and homeless.
Who knows? She may have taken me home.
The truth is I wasn't really in any state for a romance but I can't say it didn't cross my mind.
She sat with me a few minutes and I told her not to worry and that I was ok.
She finally left and I'm not kidding you, 3 minutes later another young lady stopped. This one only asked if I was ok. She was extremely attractive too though not the "fall-in-love" type but the "Lord forgive me for the thoughts I am having" type.
She also went to her car and brought me a big bottle of water, this time. She left at some point and I just sat there, in amazement.
Throughout all my travels I had never received so much attention at the side of a road. Then again, I suppose I had never hung out outside a bus stop, looking like I was ready to keel over.
But I did figure out a new way to meet the ladies.
I eventually got up, feeling plenty sorry for myself, got on the bike and went on my way.
Again, I didn't get very far but at least I was on the highway to Katowice. I stopped around 80 kms out of Katowice and had a coffee at a gas station.
There was a cafe alongside the gas station so I sat at a table and watched the people go by.
It must have been a couple of hours later I woke up with my head on the table.
It seems I had conked out. I was still shaking like a leaf from the fever, my feet were frozen despite the warm boots I was wearing. What can I say ... a total wreck!
I got rolling again, passed Katowice, Krakow and then headed south for Zakopane and the Slovakian border.
The next part is not particularly pleasant, but I don't think I can skip it.
It was twilight by now and I stopped at the side of the road in order to "relieve" myself of fluids.
As I was ahem ... passing water I noticed that they were of a very dark colour.
I immediately had a flash-back to the previous year (some may remember the "waiting for the bullet" story, where I nearly checked out) when I was passing blood (and ended up in a hospital for a couple of weeks) and thought "F! ...F! ...F! ... not again!".
Yes, a lot of "F's" in that sentence.
I was having terrible images of my never being able to ride on a long journey again.
I took an small empty water bottle and tried again.
I took it out in front of my headlight on the bike and thankfully, all was perfect.
It seems that the twilight was playing tricks on me and made the liquid look much darker than it actually was. Phew!
I did test this again further down and all was well.
One more problem now put behind me.
I continued south and entered Slovakia.
I was stopping a lot, each time mustering the strength to carry on a little more.
The route I had selected was slightly unorthodox, avoiding the capital Bratislava altogether, almost cutting Slovakia in half as I headed south but a little more to the east.
The roads were secondary at best. The biggest challenge being (especially in my condition) going through the mountains on the very twisty roads at night time.
Just me and my headlights - no traffic at all.
To top it all it was also pretty cold up there.
I eventually got to a town in the south called Roznava.
It must have been around 02:00 am.
Now, I had started these long rides back in my early twenties.
Money was scarce back then so it was necessary to sometimes be inventive for survival purposes.
It helped me make the aquaintance of many park benches throughout several countries. Another trick was to find a taxi rank, not in the center of a city, but in a quieter suburb.
I wasn't going to look for a hotel so I found myself such a taxi rank on the outskirts of Roznava.
There were several taxi drivers sitting on a wooden bench, waiting for a fare.
There was a large night club around 80 meters behind them and the music could be heard.
I unhitched my camping chair, parked it next to their bench and said "you, wooden bench ... me, luxury!", pointing to my chair.
They laughed and thus I solved any problems of security I may have had.
These guys would look after me while I had a short sleep on my "throne".
It was a strange sight, they were dressed in short pants and t-shirts and I was wearing a t-shirt, an esothermic underjacket, a cloth vest and my heavy leather jacket, long trousers and boots.
Even so I was still shivering (that damned fever, remember?).
I slouched in my chair and watched the people come and go to and from the night club.
After a while the taxi drivers disappeared as a lot of people (fares) started coming out of the night club.
They were replaced on the wooden bench by 3 people in their late twenties or early thirties. It was a couple and a young lady.
I glanced sidewards at the young lady and thought "what a pretty face ... I bet she doesn't look that good standing up". I mean, a pretty face doesn't necessarily mean a great shape.
Shortly afterwards, the couple left and it was just the two of us. I said hello and we started talking, about where I was from, my journeys, job etc.
She apparently ran her deceased father's small factory that produced pickled cucumbers.
At some point she got up, telling me there was something she had to do. I assumed she was going back into the club.
I had a good look at her and thought "only God could have created those terrific legs". I am not kidding you! I was gobsmacked. She was amazing and of course, erased any doubt I had earlier.
Anyway, it seems I fell asleep before she got back.
I woke up around 3 hours later, drenched in sweat. I was hoping that it was the fever finally leaving me.
I suddenly discovered something bulging from the inside flap of my open jacket.
It was a glass jar of pickles and a note telling me to enjoy them and some "other" stuff.
Bless her!
I just sat for a while and thought of the kindness of strangers, throughout the years.
I finally swung myself up from the chair ... and one of the pole/legs snapped!
I had placed it on uneven ground and, with my weight seemingly added uneven pressure.
So, that was the end of my "throne". I dumped it in a large garbage bin nearby.
I took my jacket off and all the other stuff down to my t-shirt. I was feeling great (for a change).
On the road again, this time heading for the Hungarian border which was less than an hour away.
Again, the route in Hungary was not a normal one. I would be cutting through the northeastern tip of Hungary (so, Budapest was out this time).
The plan was that I eventually ended up in northern Romania, passing a city called Oradea in the Transylvania region and on into the Carpathian mountains.
Just after I crossed the Hungarian border (after taking the picture), I was stopped by the police.
I looked at them and asked what they wanted, as I hadn't broken any law.
"Dokument!", one of them said. I handed him my passport and lit a cigarette, a good opportunity.
He handed it back to me and wished me a good journey, the stern attitude now gone. He must have been amazed I was so far from home, especially alone.
It was a Saturday morning and there was heavy traffic. Five hours later I had explored the unknown to me (although I had toured Hungary many times), rural roads of eastern Hungary and then crossed the border into Romania, after which I would spend the next 5 days exploring (again) the Carpathian mountains.
But that, my friends, is a story for another day.
Now, back to the reason for this post.
I was amazed and touched by the care the Polish people showed a stranger at the side of the road. Bless them!
I thought that at least a short note was in order.
Transfagaras Pass, southern Carpathian mountains, Romania.
Great! 
2010 Thunderbird LE 1700 :-)
"We eat, sleep, breath, dream, live, love, and ride motorcycles ..."
