Travel diary pt 08: the oily, hairy and empathetic
Thank Jehova, Allah and the rest of the lot for Polish truck-drivers! Yesterday I traveled some 900 kilometers from Riga to Skepe and I only had to put my finger up once or twice. One after another the truck-drivers used their radio for me to catch the next ride. They fed me and made sure I get enough coffee and cigarettes.
Only the first one of them spoke perfect English, the rest of them not a single word. I was offered translation services by phone (the driver´s daughter) and something that I really didn´t figure out what it was (another driver´s sister).
After some 12 hours of traveling I came to a beautiful small town in Poland and got a wonderful meal, a nice walk in the forest, a patriotic speech in Polish by a complete stranger and felt very welcome. I wouldn´t mind coming to a town like this to write for a month or two. And it somehow reminds me of Sri Lanka…
