Sarah and I finished our stay in Krakow with a walk to a very popular Pizzeria near our campsite. The pizza was so so. Edible, but if it was in our home town it wouldn’t be somewhere we would revisit. On the upside they did have a good selection of Polish beers so I got to try a dark beer and a wheat beer which both made a pleasant change from the lager I have endured since I left blighty.

Today was a day of travelling and yet again we were let down by the dogs. If I’m honest we were let down by Mabel who is usually up with first light full of Spanielly enthusiasm for the world. Some mornings, if we are not ready to get up, she will come into our sleeping area and put her wet nose under the covers in an attempt to get some action, but to be fair to her if we ignore the cold wet nudge she will go back to bed for a while before making another attempt.

We could never accuse Melek of letting us down as an alarm clock because given a choice he would stay curled up in his pit forever, given half a chance.

So we were late getting up but we put that to rights with a rapid breakfast and packup and, after saying goodbye to Ant and Liz, were on our way not much after 10.

It was a boring old day. 260 miles on Polish motorway and today Poland began to show its colours. Endless miles of forest or open plain. All pretty much flat as a pancake. It was so dull that Sarah and I even had a small domestic dispute in fighting over who would go into the shop when we stopped for bread. We were both desperate for something stimulating to do.The shopping was the most exiting thing to happen today.

We were held up for half an hour by a motorway crash, which fortunately did not look serious. It was our first such hold up since we have left home and did not make us homesick for life on Britain’s perennially clogged motorway network.

My heartbeat managed to get above 70 once. We had just finished driving through a late afternoon thunderstorm when Sarah pointed out signs saying the roads were slippery while wet. She had hardly got the words out of her mouth before there was a warning triangle on the hard shoulder and lorries were skidding to a halt. A car and a white van had skidded on the slippery road and were sideways across the inside lane as if acting out the warning on the sign!

We had a giggle at the road sign writer’s repeated faux accuracy with signs warning us of deer for the next 6.8 km, or 8.3km. We wondered if the wildlife had been told they could only wander across the road in these strictly defined areas.

I have been worrying about how I was going to get Basil serviced by the due date of the end of June. The Hymer dealer in Krakow did not have a space until several days after we were due to move on and the only other Hymer dealer vaguely on route before we reach the expensive Nordic countries is in Lithuania. I gave them a call at lunchtime expecting language difficulties to be greeted in perfect English. Basil is booked in for his annual check up in 9 days time.

Basil after a hard day at Camping Tramp

Basil finally delivered us to Torun in northern Poland, which is supposed to have a beautiful gothic old town. He is resting his wheels at Camping Tramp (52.999543, 18.608308) (€13 including electricity and 2 dogs). This seems a nice little site with the pitches delineated with mature hedges and it is right in the centre of Torun, an easy walk to the old town. What possessed anyone, even with English as a second language, to name their Hotel and Campsite “Tramp”. I can’t think of any positive connotations, except perhaps Disney’s Lady and the Tramp.