I go from Krakow to Auschwitz, savoring the last train journey of my trip. Perhaps my last break from the pouring rain. It's still raining when I get off, it's been raining solidly for 3 days. I look at my exposed mountain of bags on the back of my bike and I look at Richard Dawkins, knowing he is as unhappy with the situation as I am. A nearby shop sorts me out with some binbags and tape, allowing me to arrange some sort of makeshift waterproofing that seems to suit Dawkins and I quite well. An apology gets made to a Polish gas station as I leave with a stolen map of Poland. The map and waterproofing suddenly makes me feel everything is under control. I feel up for it, I feel ready, I feel happy. The constant seesaw of emotions continues.
I cycle along the disused train track to Auschwitz, and can't help but imagine the ride that hundreds of thousands of Jews, Russians and Polish took. I see the gate of death, I see all the last things they saw. 5 steps into Auschwitz and I start crying. Though really I'm not sure how much this means as I've nearly cried about 50 times on the way here. I think I'd already decided that I was just going to let it all out once I got to Auschwitz. And that I did.
I stand by the ruins of the gas chambers. I look at the road they were all shuttled along and imagine them moving past me. I remember my dream with the siren and remember that when death became certain I hoped it was a dream. I thought it had to be a dream.
I wonder how many people here thought it was a dream in their last moments.
I think about how free I am with my bike, even with no money, what anyone here would've given for my situation. The feeling of comparative joy doesn't last long however. I start to think about the trip and don't think I can do it. There's 150km to do today and it's already 1 in the afternoon, I'm already tired. I start thinking about death, perhaps an inevitability in Auschwitz. I start thinking about aging. It's all starting to get quite dark in my head. I remember Melt! festival was just 3 days ago. I realise that I'm on the comedown of my life. The comedown of my life in Auschwitz. It's time to leave.
I cycle along the disused train track to Auschwitz, and can't help but imagine the ride that hundreds of thousands of Jews, Russians and Polish took. I see the gate of death, I see all the last things they saw. 5 steps into Auschwitz and I start crying. Though really I'm not sure how much this means as I've nearly cried about 50 times on the way here. I think I'd already decided that I was just going to let it all out once I got to Auschwitz. And that I did.
I stand by the ruins of the gas chambers. I look at the road they were all shuttled along and imagine them moving past me. I remember my dream with the siren and remember that when death became certain I hoped it was a dream. I thought it had to be a dream.
I wonder how many people here thought it was a dream in their last moments.
I think about how free I am with my bike, even with no money, what anyone here would've given for my situation. The feeling of comparative joy doesn't last long however. I start to think about the trip and don't think I can do it. There's 150km to do today and it's already 1 in the afternoon, I'm already tired. I start thinking about death, perhaps an inevitability in Auschwitz. I start thinking about aging. It's all starting to get quite dark in my head. I remember Melt! festival was just 3 days ago. I realise that I'm on the comedown of my life. The comedown of my life in Auschwitz. It's time to leave.
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