This crossing of Poland on cycleways continues through a mix of country lanes and trails that cut through farmland and forests, never straying too far from the coastline. Being October, there is that typical melancholic end-of-season feel in most places, along with a noticeable absence of touring cyclists. Some coastal towns are just long strips of hotels and holiday resorts that must be magnets for tourists in summer but are now shut and deserted. At times, it’s hard to find an open place for a snack and a break from cycling. I end up relying on benches and the tortillas, bananas, and Nutella I carry. While the season for lounging on beaches and soaking up the sun has passed, it’s peak time for mushroom picking. In a wood before reaching the town of Łeba, so many people were gathered in a small patch that I wondered if they were taking part in some kind of competition. They were completely focused on the task, with their seemingly aimless walks and dangling baskets.
The motivation I had at the start was not there, but I managed to keep going. I was only a couple of days away from completing this East to West crossing of the country when more bad luck struck. On an already challenging, rainy day, about a hundred kilometers from Stettin, my left pedal crank arm fell off! It wasn’t as much of a shock as it could have been, since this had happened before. A year earlier, while riding through the Hertfordshire countryside, the pedal arm suddenly fell off after a brief wobble, followed by the other half of the crankset. I didn’t even know such a thing could happen! The bike shop fixed it at the time, explaining it must have been poorly fitted. They assured me it should have never happened, much like the cracked wheel part from earlier. I could have tried to tighten it back on, but since this was the second time, I knew there had to be more to it. In a stroke of luck, I waved down a passing van, and a couple of Germans stopped to offer me and all my gear a lift to Stettin. An hour later, they dropped me off just a few meters from the door of a bike shop.
The mechanic was far more meticulous than his British counterpart. He removed a part from one of his new pedals to compare it and discovered that a metal piece, meant to secure the crank and prevent it from coming loose, had a part missing. He replaced it, and I left the shop thinking I could still reach Berlin in a few days. But then the rain began to fall again, and I started to wonder if it was time to call it a day. By pure coincidence, it was the 10th of October, exactly four months to the day since I had set off on this journey. 5,500 kilometres later, I was in Stettin, contemplating the journey's end and, moments later, deciding the time was right. I had learned so much along the way and felt fortunate to have cycled through so many incredible places. Naturally, I would have loved to ride all the way to Italy, but at that moment, I had to accept that for this time I’d likely reached my limit—and that there was no shame in stopping.
I will always carry with me the memories of the stunning landscapes, and the kindness and generosity of strangers who helped me along the way. A bicycle tour never fails to reveal the hidden goodness in human nature. I also learned that even the ultimate freedom to travel for as long as one wishes requires some getting used to and adjustment. With any luck, I’ve absorbed the lessons this journey has taught me, the positives as well as the negatives and will be better prepared to make the necessary changes when I set off on my next ride. A beautiful world awaits!