A long and hard day, since I had quite strong headwind all the time. But I had also something else: Motivation. Tonight I would meet my friend Stefan, have dinner with him and sleep at his place.

The day started with the border crossing to Poland in the town of Cesky Tesín, or Cieszyn as it's called on the Polish side, which was the lucky side when the border was drawn after the second – or was it the first? – world war: It got all the old stuff that tourists want to see.

I was stupid enough to neglect my map, since the roadsigns to the border crossing were everpresent. But those roadsigns were for cars, of course! I could have crossed the border in the center instead of making this big detour.

Crossing the border with the cars also brought another unpleasant surprise: On the Polish side, the road turned into a highway, and there were no other roads to be seen! What was I supposed to do? It is illegal to bike on highways – should I stumble in to the forest to look for small little forest roads? Excuse me, but no fucking way. I've had enough of bad roads! With that attitude I hit the highway, and what a feeling it was, having the lanes all to myself! Well, I didn't really go in the left lane, but it felt as if the huge area of paved asphalt infront of me was all mine. And why shouldn't you be allowed to bike on highways? I felt way more secure than on the smaller roads where cars pass you at 90 kph (56 mph).

Not only motivation and bananas kept me going: Outside Andrychow, not on the highway anymore, another cyclist biked up to me. His name was Krzchzsrxz (I didn't really get it) and we took turns leading the way.

What followed was a real kick: We could talk to each other! Not perfectly of course, but he understood my Czech without problems and when he took care to speak slowly I could pick up most of his Polish. We biked together to the pope Johannes Paulus II's birthplace Wadowice, where Krzzxs showed me the center before we parted – he was gonna stay there.

After Wadowice I called Stefan to prepare him for my arrival. Then I found a really idyllic little road that made me able to enjoy what was to become the last day of this bike tour. There were very few cars until Brzeznica.

To roll into Kraków was wonderful. It was like a long, long downslope – maybe both literally and mentally – in which I kept pace with the cars. A few friendly ladies confirmed I was on the right way to the city center. A few minutes later it was obvious that I had reached the center and was just minutes from Stefan's flat.

That's when it happened: The gear wire broke. Except from a few screws that unscrewed themselves, this is the only casualty of the whole bike tour – I haven't even had a flat tire – and it happened not even a kilometer from my goal. That's what I call quality! With a touch of luck, of course.

I will now enjoy dinner with Stefan and spend I don't know how many days in this beautiful city where I've never been before.