I have to say I found some satisfaction in naming the next section of musings the lure of the unknown and leaving it blank, leaving any fans of such musings in the dark as to what I was about to say, indeed leaving you waiting for the unknown. I hope it has been very alluring. I hope also then that this next section does not dissapoint.
I leave Pavel's house and as promised he guides me back to the gas station where I plan to meet Matt. From having not a single Polish dollar to my name when I arrived in Poland, I find myself preparing to cross the German border with 30. I decide I need to convert my money before I cross the border so I change it all into cigerettes and chocolate chip cookies. I later find out that the whole stash of cookies I brought have berries in them and am extremely unhappy, but that's a story for another time.
Matt meets me at the station and we load my dismantled bike and his girlfriend into the car. He is driving to Munich to deliver a puppy to his father, it's a yorkshire terrier and it seems to think it's very dangerous. I tell Matt that I would like to get out at Dresden, which is about 150km down the road. He tries to convince me to come to Munich with him where I can have a bed, all the food I want and can get drunk all night. A tempting offer, especially given that Matt is a great guy. However the notion never really settles with me.
It is strange that when I am offered everything that I've ever wanted throughout this trip, I am so quick to turn it down. As I contemplate this I come to realise that it is not the beds, the people, the food and the drink that I want, but the uncertainty, the lure of the unknown. As you step out onto another road clueless and blind, everything surprises you, you come to expect nothing, but suspect everything as possible. Every reward for your faith is ten times as potent; getting 130km into Germany when at the start of the day you thought you could only do 10 feels incredible. When you see yourself sleeping on another patch of grass in another distant city, but find yourself in a warm bed with warm people, it feels better than any other bed could.
I leave Pavel's house and as promised he guides me back to the gas station where I plan to meet Matt. From having not a single Polish dollar to my name when I arrived in Poland, I find myself preparing to cross the German border with 30. I decide I need to convert my money before I cross the border so I change it all into cigerettes and chocolate chip cookies. I later find out that the whole stash of cookies I brought have berries in them and am extremely unhappy, but that's a story for another time.
Matt meets me at the station and we load my dismantled bike and his girlfriend into the car. He is driving to Munich to deliver a puppy to his father, it's a yorkshire terrier and it seems to think it's very dangerous. I tell Matt that I would like to get out at Dresden, which is about 150km down the road. He tries to convince me to come to Munich with him where I can have a bed, all the food I want and can get drunk all night. A tempting offer, especially given that Matt is a great guy. However the notion never really settles with me.
It is strange that when I am offered everything that I've ever wanted throughout this trip, I am so quick to turn it down. As I contemplate this I come to realise that it is not the beds, the people, the food and the drink that I want, but the uncertainty, the lure of the unknown. As you step out onto another road clueless and blind, everything surprises you, you come to expect nothing, but suspect everything as possible. Every reward for your faith is ten times as potent; getting 130km into Germany when at the start of the day you thought you could only do 10 feels incredible. When you see yourself sleeping on another patch of grass in another distant city, but find yourself in a warm bed with warm people, it feels better than any other bed could.
I get out at dresden and it starts all over again. The constant daily loop, in which all the morning brings is confusion before the night brings some form of conclusion. The same problems occur, I realise I don't know what I'm doing or where I'm going, I have no map, I don't want to waste any money on one (plus I like the extra unknown the lack of map adds). I don't know what I will eat, I don't know where I will sleep, I don't know how far I can go. I try and reassemble my bike and have no idea what I'm doing. This stumble at the first hurdle makes everything feel worst, like I have a mountain to climb and I can't even reach it's base. I don't mind though, I have faith, I know everything will work out.
The unknown calls to me and I smile back, I look forward to whatever it may bring.
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