It was not a good start to our bike ride. For some reason our brains were fogged with too much Vodka and we weren’t thinking straight. We had originally planned to spend a third night at the wedding venue, then cycle through Germany up to Copenhagen, but for some reason we changed our minds and went to Szczecin, Poland which is about 34 kms north of Gryfino. This meant we were to cycle on Polish roads, something we will definitely avoid in future. We rattled our way over uneven cobblestones and plonked through potholes. There had been weeks without rain, but about 10km into our ride, it decided to piss down. We rustled around in our bags looking for our wet weather gear and a man came running towards us shouting something in Polish. Embarrassed I said, “Sorry I don’t understand, I speak English.”
He carried on speaking in Polish at us, but louder this time as if that might help us understand. I shook my head and repeated that I didn’t understand, while at the same time trying to put on my raincoat before I got too wet. He started gesticulating then, putting his hands over his head.
Mike said, “He’s offering us shelter. We should go with him.”
Obviously I thought he was a nutter so I politely declined. I didn’t really think that, but it’s always a possibility.
We cycled on in the drizzling rain and after about a minute or so there was a clap of thunder and it pelted down. We took shelter huddled next to a building and watched the rain pour out of the sky.
“We should have taken up that mans hospitality,” Mike said.
I agreed then said, “No rain for weeks and it decides to piss down on the first day of our cycle ride. Typical!” Maybe it was a sign.
After about 10 minutes or so, the rain eased off to a drizzle and we carried on cycling. It wasn’t too bad. We were wet through, but it was warm, unlike the time in Germany when we almost got frostbite. After about 5kms, the footpath ended and we were cycling on the road. The car drivers were polite, but I preferred the idea of being on the footpath. Up ahead I noticed a nice wide footpath and decided to get off the road. I chose what looked to be a surface without a curb and picked my line. At the last minute I noticed a ridge across the curb. My bike tyre caught it and I realised I was going down. And down I went with a giant crash and tumble. My head whacked against the pavement with a loud crack. I silently thanked my helmet as it surely saved me from cracking my head open. My leg was in incredible pain. I sat up and hugged it saying over and over “It hurts, it really hurts.” I was sure I had broken it. Mike looked at me, stunned by what had happened. I expected him to come over to see if I was ok, but he seemed to be in shock. Eventually he managed to put his bike up against a fence and came over to me. I sat there for ages, too scared to get up for fear of my leg collapsing on me. After about 10 minutes or so, the shock started to wear off and Mike helped me to my feet. I limped over to a stone fence and sat down. Phew, I can walk at least. I looked down at my leg and realised it needed ice. It ballooned out the side of my thigh, swelling more by the minute. But there was no ice and we had no choice but to continue on.
I pushed through the pain, putting all my concentration into navigating the giant potholes that lurked beneath the puddles. After a while, we had to cycle on a main road. Trucks barrelled passed, spraying us with dirty water. We started cycling over a busy bridge when I noticed a cycle lane on the side of it. “Mike bike path, Mike bike path” I yelled over and over as loud as I could. Thankfully he heard and we turned around and headed towards the bike path. I wheeled my bike up over the curb but it got away from me again and fell to the ground with a crash. Thankfully I wasn’t on it, but when Mike came over to help, he picked up my broken mirror. By this time, I had enough, but we had to continue on. We planned to meet brother Paul who had a hotel booked for us. I texted him a couple of times on his phone, but the messages hadn’t gotten through.
We should have been at the hotel by 6.30pm, but we didn’t get there until 8.40pm. What a day. Paul got me some ice for my leg, then we went to their room for left over bbq and homemade vodka. The ice really helped my leg and the swelling had gone down significantly. Paul and Pam had some home-made vodka that Kasia’s brother made. I drank a load of it and the pain in my leg almost disappeared. I called it a healing potion as I woke up the next day, still sore, but not anywhere as bad as I thought it would be. That was the end of the cycle ride for now. The decision was made to catch the train back to Gryfino, pick up the car and head for the flat cycle paths of Holland.