http://www.pdsnoki.org/
Fundraising Goal: $9,000, or $9 per kilometer!!!
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This may have been the strangest and spookiest day yet on this long ride. It began reasonably enough with the very spartan breakfast at the very spartan MOSiR Hotel in Białystok. MOSiR apparently is a term for a sports complex of some sort, since there are MOSiRs around many towns and this hotel overlooks a track and stadium. It was, of course, gray and cold, but there didn't appear to be any rain.I had noticed the day before that Treblinka was about halfway between Białystok and Warsaw, but it was not easily accessible on roads -- rather, the best way to get there involved a short jog on a train. So I decided I would search around Białystok for a Internet access, find a homestay online in the area there and bike 50 km to the furthest place from Białystok where I could catch that train for the town of Małkinia, just on the other side of the River Bug from Treblinka. I got online, booked with the help of the man who ran the Internet cafe (since the hotel staff only spoke Polish), saw a few more sights in Białystok and hit the road.
About 15 miles into the ride, I stopped for lunch at a roadside place and the folks were not the most welcoming there. This made me realize how generally friendly everyone had been on this trip, and how this was the one exception. As I left, a light rain started. I still had about 20 miles to go to get to the train station, and by the time I got 15 miles in, it was pouring and I was soaked. I decided it was better to miss the 3:40 pm train and stop into the pizzeria at the local town to get some tea and warm up.
This was a new, completely renovated place and the owner had all sorts of questions about my ride (everyone is excited about cycling here these days, with the Tour de Pologne going on). So I warmed up for half an hour and fortunately the rain had stopped. I bought a ticket for the train to Małkinia, and when it arrived, I slipped trying to climb the wet steel steps to the train car with my bike. A very kind Indian man on the train pulled the bike in for me and I quickly got on and thanked him. He was from the south of India and worked in "import-export", he said (and had a big duffel bag, as if to prove it). He spoke no Polish, but had lived in Warsaw for many years. We chatted for a while over the roar of the express train and I arrived in 25 minutes in Małkinia. This was where the adventures began.
Using my map, I tried to figure out how to get to Treblinka. It was already 5 pm and I knew that the road from here due north to Ostrów-Mazowiecka -- the town where I had reserved my hotel -- was 16 km long; I needed a good 45 minutes reserved to travel that distance before dark. A very kind young man in Małkinia explained the way to Treblinka to me. He said the bridge south over the River Bug (Treblinka was on the other side) was closed, but that he thought bike traffic would be permitted -- just don't let the cops see me do it. He then said, "Ah, Treblinka -- going so to show respect. I understand".
So I headed towards that bridge. The closer I got, the more surreal the situation seemed. Soon there were no people and I came to a completely closed, disused railroad bridge. I had to turn the bike sideways to get it under the barrier, and just as I was feeling like this was a little weird, an older lady and a girl came by on their bikes and did the same thing. I crossed the creaky, wet wood bridge (you could hear the wood planks bounce as I went over them) and then hit about a mile of terrible, potholed road befor
e seeing a sign for Treblinka, next to the remains of the disused rain line.My guidebook says, in brief, that Treblinka was a tiny little rural town where the Nazis set up two death camps, Treblinka I and II. Towards the end of the war, as the Soviets advanced, they completely destroyed any evidence of the camps, which was a massive undertaking since they had killed nearly 1 million people here. It is totally mindboggling. They then set up a Ukrainian farmer on the land to make it look like nothing had happened here.
Well, it seems in some sense like the area has never gotten past this hide-and-seek game -- I traveled all around the village and saw literally nothing -- no monument or museum. Eventually, I found a small sign that pointed eastward saying that the museum and monument were 4 km in this direction. It was already almost 6, but I traveled this very old, decaying road for about 6 km, passing through two more small towns and seeing no other people. My bike was not liking these potholes at all. When I finally found the monument and museum, the road to it was closed for repaving (or cobbling, as it turns out -- there was something haunting about seeing hundreds of thousands of marble cobblestones lying around in piles and bags around her
e, with all of the symbolism this brought to mind). It was impassable by bike and car, so I walked my bike up to the entrance. The man there said I was free to walk about the grounds (being a Sunday, the museum was naturally closed).By now it was 6:30 and drizzly. The monument at Treblinka was simple but moving. I saw two Swedish men there who had apparently parked their car down where the pavement ended and
were also a little baffled by how hard it was to get there. Like me, a little spooked, they took their pictures and left. There really is not much here to reflect the enormity of what happened here 65 years ago.At this point, I calculated that I had 30 minutes to sunset and about 18 miles to go, much of this over very bad road. My general average speed
has been about 14 mph, so this meant I would certainly have some night cycling to do. I sped my way there and got to Małkinia by 6:45, feeling a little spooked the whole way (beyond the spookiness of having just seen Treblinka, it felt like something out of Harry Potter -- you have to cross the old, deserted bridge before sundown...). But then the remaining 10 miles were on a road heavily shaded by trees anyway (probably pretty in the daytime), so what little sun was left was wasn't in evidence. By 3 miles in, it was completely dark. I had prepared for this eventuality by buying bike lights, so I turned them on and pedalled like mad to Ostrów-Mazowiecka, where I had a reservation for another "Hotel MOSiR".I got to town around 7:30, exhausted, in the dark. It is a small town, but for the life of me, I could not find the Hotel MOSiR. I asked a few people and they kept pointing the same way, but I saw nothing where they told me to go. Eventually I saw a tiny sign on the side of a building next to a running track that said "MOSiR Biura" ("office"), pointing to the rear of the building. So as I noticed this, a woman and man came to unlock the main door to this building and let me in. I said "Hotel MOSiR" and they nodded -- no sign anywhere. I guess you just had to know! I said I had a reservation for tonight and she said "no, we are full". I told her that was fine, but I had reserved by phone. She was certain I had not and told me there must be some mistake... Uh oh.
At this point, I was getting very nervous. This is a tiny town, probably with only one hotel and I'm not in it. Plus, I had noticed there were many towns in this region with the name "Ostrów" in them -- maybe I had reserved in the wrong town!! Anyway, she -- Aldonna was her name -- remained firm that I had not booked here, but was VERY friendly and kind about it, telling me not to worry. Finally, I showed her the number I had called and she said, "It is not ours" -- but do not worry. Sit down. Coffee?" Now I am thinking that she is going to tell me she has found a way to put me up, but instead she called the number on my phone and determined that somehow I was reserved in a different hotel, just on the edge of town. I was so relieved and she could not have been nicer. She showed me how to get there and we had our coffee. We talked about cycling and all the cyclists from around the world she had had as guests (this being a sports hotel). I thanked her for everything and hit the road for my hotel. Although by this time it was 8:30 and I was starving. I stopped at a simple little place in the center on my way and the beef goulash they served, with barley and a beet compote on the side, was one of the best things I've eaten on this trip.
I got to the hotel and all was fine -- they had me in a large, bizarrely decorated room and I fell asleep in minutes. Tomorrow, Warsaw.
Vitals on today's ride:
Distance: 65 miles (total: 632!!! This means I passed 1,000 km today)
Map: http://veloroutes.org/bikemaps/?route=21711
No music -- no shoulders on these roads, so music would be too dangerous
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