14-VII-1968.
After Łodz, we dropped by Wrocław, where we visited the red army cemetery, dunno why. There was nobody around - it's a sunday and this is Poland. At least this shot shows both fića and Janči's škodilak 1000MB, with the roof racks and the whole bale on it. We had to put the tents, inflatables and blankets somewhere. Dad developed his own trick how to tie it up, with some method probably from vojska. He had a 20m long nylon cord, and he run it back and forth over the bundle, until it would be packed tight like a salami (and I never saw a salami in a net, but others did, so we had a saying)(I did see it later, perhaps as late as in the eighties). It never happened that the oilcloth, in which this all was wrapped, flutters anywhere, nor that any knot loosens.
By evening we reached Warszawa. Don't remember the camp at all, but we did get to see the city a lot. One of the guys from last year, from Bralići, showed us around. He was some dick in the ministry of traffic, perhaps a railway or trucking inspector, so he knew places and we did see a lot of it, with extra story and explanation. Took us home for dinner. The apartment was quite posh. It seems there was good drink - kind of remember he despised vodka wiborowa ("the select vodka") and pulled out žubrowka (which we rarely found, perhaps sometimes in Romania). The entree was some kind of paste made of ground, or rather minced meat, with who knows what - but the meat was raw. It was bar shaped, probably laid out that way in a longer vessel, then let to congeal a bit, then upended onto the plate. Spread it on bread (rye?), was great. While I don't remember the taste, I do remember that I liked it and would try it again anytime.
This shot was at „Pałac kultury i nauki“ (palace of culture and science) which our host explained to us as one of the most unpopular buildings in the city. There are seven more of those, identical to this one, around Moscow, all ordered by Stalin, and this one was a sort of a gift (probably „ours the ideas, yours the gasoline“). We also saw the old downtown, which was allegedly rebuilt as it was before the war, because it was a heap of rubble after it. Not much of it and, then, all too neat and clean, more of a museum than a part of a city. The impression was mixed.
I wore these trousers all the way, and later when I saw how I looked, didn't really like what I saw. Not that I was some frajer (nowadays a dude), long way to go until that, but I already started paying some attention to how I looked. After the episode with spectacles, this was really not what I wanted. The cut was the kind one wears with a suit, the thighs were too wide and yet you had to pull it up each time you sat, because it would drag up your knees. So there it was as it was, I didn't like them but then also fell for the propaganda agains the murky types who wore jeans, you don't want to be like them. Sooooo... okay, for now, I'll wear this. At least the cloth was good, light and easy to dry („the stains pass through it!“), yet firm. And same color as the road...
On the way back we stopped at Krakow. Walked the square at the old university. By the edge of the square several guys offered great rates for dollars. Nobody mentioned marks. Then we dropped by Katowice, the winter resort, in the summer. Walked those scenic paths. I wore the white and blue trenerka we bought in Praha, and later when I developed the pictures, decided I didn't like it. The upper part is so-so, but the trousers, with those zippers at the leg ends, somehow didn't seem right, I didn't want to look like that. Spoiled my line or something. Didn't quite understand why I thought so, but this track suit was something I wore very rarely, and even then only when we're camping and it rains. And never had another tracksuit.
In Banska Bystrica
We drove through Slovakia, mostly under heavy rain, until we got to Banska Bistryca. The plan was to sleep there, but it was already night, the tourist office was closed, couldn't find anything, at whatever address we tried it was closed. So we decided to just park somewhere and sleep in the car, and then fića blew a tire. Those were by Tigar of Pirot, and were quite bad at the time - that one didn't make more than 8000km. Dad and Janči had a lot of trouble pulling out the spare and the jack out of the tiny cramped trunk (where the tank was, too). They dropped the bolts into the metal wheel cap, which echoed loudly in the narrow old street between two storey buildings. Well screw them, we can't sleep, they can share the feeling a bit. So we slept in the car.
Stayed the next day and night again at Roman Baths camp in Buda. Just slept there, packed the next morning and went home. Not actually sure whether we did stay there, or drove straight from Banska Bistryca, which isn't too far.
Unpacked all the gear we bought in Warszawa - the table, chairs, mattresses, gas stove etc - and had a day's rest. Now the fun should begin, tomorrow we drive to the Black sea in Romania. It should take us only two days to get there.
Now this gas stove was a special story. The thread on the nozzle is some special, not what's standard elsewhere. So later we had to have an adapter and carry it with us every time we went for a refill, and sometime that little thing would serve, with just the 2kg of gas, as the only stove for several weeks at a time. So usually after 15 days or so we'd have to find a place to get a refill. Even at home, it was handy as a source of heat for things done outside (like roasting big sweet red peppers), so we had to find the charging place at home too. Eventually someone made a piece of hose with standard adapter on one end, and this on the other, so we could refill it from a big 10kg bottle.
Mentions: Bralići, fića, frajer, Janči Gnajs, škodilak, trenerica (trenerka), vojska, in serbian
4-VI-2020 - 11-V-2026