“Free your Mind and your Ass will Follow” repeats the strange but kinda cool gospel imitation music behind me, over and over again. I think I kind of like the message ..but i’m not totally sure about that.
After breaking down twice already, including a broken clutch on top of a Slovenian mountain, Connie seems to have got into a groove of creating amazing adventures. She led us to a mountain top adventure, being welcomed into the interesting lifestyle of Anna and her Tourists Farm, being paraded like a carnival through Slovenia on top of a tow truck as passers-by stopped and stared at Connie, and being welcomed into Bruna’s lovely family and tasting their award winning honeys.
Unfortunately the Roadtrip’s need to keep to a extremely tight budget is not sitting well with Connie’s penchant for high budget adventuring! ..so i’m not a fan of her latest choice to strand me by the side of a Polish motorway by breaking down, even though the adventures created were, yet again, magnificent, and they introduced me to the most wonderful people!
Just 7 km from our destination, Wroclaw, Poland the engine suddenly lost power and died. It was already 2am and after a brief tinker with the engine and a hike across a few fields in the optimistic hope of finding a wifi signal and tracking its owner, so I could google the symptoms, I gave up and decided to sleep there for the night and find a solution in the morning. I didn’t get any. Trucks were whizzing passed less than a meter from my head, their wind shaking Connie around like the carnival ride she impersonated in Slovenia, the freezing weather, and a brief talk with some police officers who had come to tell me I couldn’t stay there, then left when I got our a rope and asked them to tow me somewhere better.
The next morning I met a tow truck driver who seeing I was stuck wanted 250e to tow me 4km into town. A long argument and I ended up paying him 30e to tow me to the next road off of the motorway. He didnt. He towed Connie 200meters to spot by the motorway where parking was allowed and then we argued more about the fee, and his suggestion I give him 250e to be pulled into town. In the end we agreed i’d pay him the 30e if he’d drive me into Wroclaw. He agreed, but didnt ..and his English suddenly got a lot worse. And that’s how I ended up at a service station cafe a few miles in the opposite direction than I wanted to go. I was tired of the guy and tired in general, and after a short argument about exchange rates I paid him 30e so I could get on with things.
For the next 9hrs the service station café became my office, and HQ for planning Connie’s rescue (and mine), which eventually came from a FB group for travellers called NOMAD’s, where a hero from Warsaw called Ewa reminded me of that lovely warm feeling when someone you’ve never met goes out of their way to help you when you are trouble. After reading of my struggles she contacted the brother of a friend living in Wroclaw to ask if they’d come with their car and help me tow the van into town ..which is when the Polish adventure really began.