The road to Auschwitz

Our next destination was Poland, so we cleaned up the van, loaded up with water (Czech and Polish water can be unreliable so we decided to take a tank full of Austrian water with us) and hit the road at around 11, headed off on a 5 and a half hour drive to Oświęcim, Poland. You may know it better by its German name: Auschwitz.

We needed groceries so we first headed to a store nearby we found on google maps, only to find it closed. All the shops were closed. It was a Tuesday. Yet another one of Austria's surprise public holidays. And less than a week after the last one. This time it was to celebrate All Saints Day. We were hungry, so we cooked some lunch in the car park and ate it. By the time we hit the motorway it was almost 1pm. Due to daylight savings, the sun sets at 4:30 now.

We headed up through Austria and a little of rural Slovakia on our way to Brno, Czech Republic, where we were to turn right and head to Poland.

By the time we crossed the Czech border our petrol was low, so we pulled into a Shell service station. The price for a litre of diesel was 33 Czech korona.

I hopped out of the car to fill the tank and at once I was set upon by a smartly dressed attendant speaking rapid German to me. Clearly he saw our German number plates. Rachel was inside the car, and assumed he was speaking Czech in which case she would be no help. I tried in vain to stop him with lots of gesticulating and cries of 'nein!', but before I could, he had opened the fuel tank and thrust the diesel nozzle in.

By this stage I realised I might as well just let him fill it, and so I waited till it was full, said 'danke' and went inside to pay. Meanwhile, Rachel watched in surprise as he squeegeed our windscreen, side windows and wing mirrors.

I paid for the fuel (2300 korona) and went back to the car where the attendant politely asked me for 'klein geld'. I dropped €4 into his hands and jumped back inside the car. He thanked me, and we were on our way. I was frustrated by the experience, but in the end it did only cost €4, and we got to live in the ye-olden days of pump attendants for a moment.

Back on the road, we arrived at Brno and turned right onto the motorway to Poland.

The motorway (speed limit 130kph) was made of poorly laid concrete, and our shock absorbers weren't up to the task, so it was the bumpiest ride we've ever been on. We found it helped our neck pain to imagine we were riding a horse at 130kph.

According to the map there are two ways of getting to Oświęcim. One motorway through the northern Czech city of Ostrava, continuing to the Polish city of Katowice. We would then have to use rural roads to get to Oświęcim. The other option passed 20 kilometers to the south of Ostrava and headed more directly to Oświęcim, though using more rural roads.

It was getting dark and I didn't like the idea of using rural roads at night - I'd read several things on the Internet recommending avoiding it - so we decided on the longer, more main route.

As we passed Ostrava and approached the border the road improved, then we suddenly were diverted off the motorway onto a minor road. There were no instructions on how to return to the road apart from some makeshift signs with an exclaimation point and the word "POZOR!" - along with some smaller instructions in Czech. Assuming these signs had something to do with the detour, we followed them like breadcrumbs through the forest.

View Europe - our path in a larger map

As we drove, we approached several intersections, all marked with POZOR. As we couldn't read the directions on the sign we just followed our nose and the other traffic. It was getting very dark but we were doing quite well, until we came across a police roadblock who directed all traffic onto a side road. Before we knew it we had lost track of POZOR and we crossed the border into Poland.

There was an immediate difference. The roads were narrower and in worse condition, the signs were more illegible and the drivers more crazy. And we weren't on main roads. We were on tiny back streets with no lighting, no gutters and no lines.

We've been told it's a very bad idea to freecamp in Poland, so we pressed on, trying to find our way back to the motorway.

Eventually we gave up and pointed the van back to the Czech republic. No sooner had we crossed the border when we both cried out and pointed "POZOR!!!!" We had rediscovered our trail of breadcrumbs. We followed them for half an hour before we realised what was happening. POZOR was leading us to the other motorway. Yes, the decision had been made for us. After a two hour detour we were back on the road to Oświęcim.

We arrived at 7:30pm, but it felt like midnight. Exhausted, we followed the instructions of a few people on a campervan website and drove to the Centre for Dialogue and Prayer, Auschwitz - a Catholic/Jewish organisation that allows motorhomes to park in their car park - there are no campsites in the Oświęcim area.

We stumbled inside and asked for a nights accommodation. Thankfully, they spoke English, had a little supermarket and free Wi-Fi. We were almost in tears.

It was a draining day of 7 hours on the road, but it was nothing compared to the day afterwards.