While the cyclists took off to Poland, my task was to stay behind and wait for Andi, who was coming back from his self-imposed video editing isolation. After I picked him up at the Ostrava train station, we fueled up and crossed the border around midnight.
Terrible roads, with pot holes the size of mammoth footprints, drunk kids running all over the road and numerous police controls. I smiled and thought to myself, "welcome back to Poland"...
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