I spent almost two weeks in eastern Europe during the December holidays. Since I've got pics and tales from each place I visited, I'll segment the trip into four posts -- The Accident, Lithuania, Poland, and the Czech Republic.
On Dec. 21, I met my friends Brian (former Northwestern Univ. classmate), Clarice (Brian's wife), and Dalia (their 3-year-old daughter) in Braunschweig, a town 130 miles SE of Oldenburg. They live in Heidelberg and had decided to drive to Klaipeda, Lithuania, for Christmas this year. (Clarice and her brother, Flavio, grew up in Brazil, but their heritage -- three generations back -- is Lithuanian. Once the Soviet Union fell and Lithuania became an independent country, Flavio decided to connect with his roots and moved to Lithuania, where he married and has three children).
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Our route from Braunschweig, Germany, to Klaipeda, Lithuania
From my hopping-on point in Braunschweig, the road trip took around 18 hours of driving (not including breaks). We stopped for the night on the German side of the border with Poland on the first night. The hotel was beautifully renovated, grand old building, and each room only cost 45 euros. And the hotel put out an incredible breakfast buffet spread in the morning -- just for us four! Breads, cheeses, eggs, meats, jellies, relishes, fresh fruit, cereals, yogurt.
Much of the long drive time was consumed sitting in traffic jams in Poland. It seemed that everywhere we tried to drive, we encountered stand-stills and VERY slow traffic. Here is a photo I took from Brian's & Clarice's van as we drove along the highway through western Poland on this frosty morning.
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Frosty Polish morning
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At around 11pm, we entered Lithuania. Not long after this, the excitement began...
I was exhausted from weeks of far too little sleep, final exams, and my lingering cold, so I was dozing in the front passenger seat, while Brian drove the van. Clarice and Dalia sat in the back seat and tried to sleep too. At around 12:30, I awoke to a loud "THUMP" on the windshield in front of me and an exclamation from Brian: "Oh, my God! I just hit a man!" Clarice had opened her eyes at precisely the right moment to also catch a glimpse of the ghostly figure that apparently came out of nowhere and somehow collided with our vehicle... so she also became frantic. Brian slowed and pulled the van over into the right shoulder. It was pitch-black outside, as there were no street lamps or signs of civilization nearby -- just a dark highway in the middle of nowhere, Lithuania. Brian slowly backed up the van in the shoulder, but since he couldn't see anything in the rear-view mirror (gifts for Clarice's family were piled floor-to-ceiling in the back), he stopped after 10-15 yards. "What should I do?" Brian asked aloud. "We have to go back," Clarice advised. "Yeah, but you don't wanna run over the guy twice," I chimed in. Eventually, Brian decided to drive to the next exit and take the "cloverleaf" to get back on the highway going the opposite way. Once he was sure we had passed the point where the incident occurred, he exited the highway again and re-entered traveling in the original direction.
By this time, Clarice had called her brother, Flavio, on a cell phone and described the situation to him. Flavio then called the local police to report the incident. "What-if"s were racing in all of our minds. "What was that guy doing walking in the middle of the autobahn?" Brian asked aloud, exasperation starting to show in his voice. "What if Brian killed a man tonight?" I wondered silently. "How will this change Brian's life forever?"... "And what about Clarice's and Dalia's lives?"
Although I'd heard something smack against the windshield, as I awoke from my reverie, something didn't quite seem right about Brian's statement: If we ran over someone, there should've been much more noise (and probably multiple noises, as the person was forced under or over the van). But I only heard one relatively small bang on the right side of the windshield. "What if Brian and Clarice just imagined it? Is there anything else that might have just looked like a person?"
Brian drove slowly and carefully, as we returned toward the dreaded location. We drove for what seemed like an eternity, finding nothing. Then finally... in the distance, we saw a man. He was staggering around in the right shoulder of the highway. Brian pulled over and shined his headlights on the man. As two other cars passed, the man walked out into the road and held out his hand in an apparent attempt to hit the cars (or to stop them). Thanks to Brian's headlights, the cars saw the man and were able to veer to the left to avoid him. "He's trying to get hit," Brian said aloud. "He's either crazy or he's very drunk," Clarice added.
Then the man returned to the shoulder and finally seemed to notice our vehicle. As he approached, we could see that his right hand was covered in blood. He also had what looked like a few minor cuts on his face. "Lock the doors," I warned Brian. Perhaps I've seen a few too many Twilight Zone episodes and/or horror flicks, but it just seemed like a bad idea to give this guy access to the van -- even if we injured his hand. The man yelled through my closed window that we should open the door and take him somewhere (per Clarice's Lithuanian translation). He tried unsuccessfully to open my door and smeared blood across the side window. Clarice scolded him to stay out of the road. He seemed to understand her message and began walking forward, away from us. As another group of cars passed, the man repeated his attempts to stop them. Once again, Brian's headlights were sufficient to warn the other cars.
After around ten minutes, the man got angry with our bright light and began yelling at us. His body language was sufficient to understand what he was saying: "Either take me into town or move on down the road! Your presence is cramping my style and getting in the way of my objectives." When we didn't leave, the man walked across the four-lane highway and vanished into complete darkness on the opposite side. We waited for 45 minutes before the police arrived on the scene (from Flavio's call). Clarice explained to the policeman what had happened, so he and his partner crossed the median and began searching (with a flashlight) on the opposite shoulder. Finding nothing, they said there was nothing more they could do.
A few minutes before the police arrived, we noticed that the passenger side mirror of the van was now missing -- apparently the man's hand had taken it off (the "bang") -- it had apparently already been cracked and unsturdy -- so Clarice asked if the policeman could write a report stating the situation, in order to get the mirror replaced through the insurance company. Since they couldn't confirm that the reported man actually existed (or that he caused the damage), they couldn't help us. So we drove onward toward Klaipeda.
"There he is again!" Brian exclaimed. Sure enough, the same man was 100 feet ahead of us standing in the road with his right hand outstretched. Brian whipped the car around, crossed the median and raced back in the other direction to inform the policemen. He flashed his headlights at them as they exited the highway. Once they stopped, Clarice explained that we had found the man again, a little further ahead. We followed them, as they slowly drove along the highway -- another eternity -- and then finally pulled over into the shoulder. They had found him -- hooray! They discussed the accident with the man, who apparently claimed that Brian drove into the shoulder while he had been peacefully walking along the road, minding his own business. The policeman gave us two choices: (1) Go with them to the nearest hospital, where they would take blood-alcohol measurements for both the man and Brian (as our driver). If the man was determined to be drunk (and Brian not), then we could get a police report; or (2) we were free to go (but without the police report). Since it was now a little past 1:30 in the morning, and we still had 90 minutes to drive, we opted for the second alternative.
On Dec. 21, I met my friends Brian (former Northwestern Univ. classmate), Clarice (Brian's wife), and Dalia (their 3-year-old daughter) in Braunschweig, a town 130 miles SE of Oldenburg. They live in Heidelberg and had decided to drive to Klaipeda, Lithuania, for Christmas this year. (Clarice and her brother, Flavio, grew up in Brazil, but their heritage -- three generations back -- is Lithuanian. Once the Soviet Union fell and Lithuania became an independent country, Flavio decided to connect with his roots and moved to Lithuania, where he married and has three children).
.
Our route from Braunschweig, Germany, to Klaipeda, Lithuania
From my hopping-on point in Braunschweig, the road trip took around 18 hours of driving (not including breaks). We stopped for the night on the German side of the border with Poland on the first night. The hotel was beautifully renovated, grand old building, and each room only cost 45 euros. And the hotel put out an incredible breakfast buffet spread in the morning -- just for us four! Breads, cheeses, eggs, meats, jellies, relishes, fresh fruit, cereals, yogurt.
Much of the long drive time was consumed sitting in traffic jams in Poland. It seemed that everywhere we tried to drive, we encountered stand-stills and VERY slow traffic. Here is a photo I took from Brian's & Clarice's van as we drove along the highway through western Poland on this frosty morning.
.
Frosty Polish morning
.
At around 11pm, we entered Lithuania. Not long after this, the excitement began...
I was exhausted from weeks of far too little sleep, final exams, and my lingering cold, so I was dozing in the front passenger seat, while Brian drove the van. Clarice and Dalia sat in the back seat and tried to sleep too. At around 12:30, I awoke to a loud "THUMP" on the windshield in front of me and an exclamation from Brian: "Oh, my God! I just hit a man!" Clarice had opened her eyes at precisely the right moment to also catch a glimpse of the ghostly figure that apparently came out of nowhere and somehow collided with our vehicle... so she also became frantic. Brian slowed and pulled the van over into the right shoulder. It was pitch-black outside, as there were no street lamps or signs of civilization nearby -- just a dark highway in the middle of nowhere, Lithuania. Brian slowly backed up the van in the shoulder, but since he couldn't see anything in the rear-view mirror (gifts for Clarice's family were piled floor-to-ceiling in the back), he stopped after 10-15 yards. "What should I do?" Brian asked aloud. "We have to go back," Clarice advised. "Yeah, but you don't wanna run over the guy twice," I chimed in. Eventually, Brian decided to drive to the next exit and take the "cloverleaf" to get back on the highway going the opposite way. Once he was sure we had passed the point where the incident occurred, he exited the highway again and re-entered traveling in the original direction.
By this time, Clarice had called her brother, Flavio, on a cell phone and described the situation to him. Flavio then called the local police to report the incident. "What-if"s were racing in all of our minds. "What was that guy doing walking in the middle of the autobahn?" Brian asked aloud, exasperation starting to show in his voice. "What if Brian killed a man tonight?" I wondered silently. "How will this change Brian's life forever?"... "And what about Clarice's and Dalia's lives?"
Although I'd heard something smack against the windshield, as I awoke from my reverie, something didn't quite seem right about Brian's statement: If we ran over someone, there should've been much more noise (and probably multiple noises, as the person was forced under or over the van). But I only heard one relatively small bang on the right side of the windshield. "What if Brian and Clarice just imagined it? Is there anything else that might have just looked like a person?"
Brian drove slowly and carefully, as we returned toward the dreaded location. We drove for what seemed like an eternity, finding nothing. Then finally... in the distance, we saw a man. He was staggering around in the right shoulder of the highway. Brian pulled over and shined his headlights on the man. As two other cars passed, the man walked out into the road and held out his hand in an apparent attempt to hit the cars (or to stop them). Thanks to Brian's headlights, the cars saw the man and were able to veer to the left to avoid him. "He's trying to get hit," Brian said aloud. "He's either crazy or he's very drunk," Clarice added.
Then the man returned to the shoulder and finally seemed to notice our vehicle. As he approached, we could see that his right hand was covered in blood. He also had what looked like a few minor cuts on his face. "Lock the doors," I warned Brian. Perhaps I've seen a few too many Twilight Zone episodes and/or horror flicks, but it just seemed like a bad idea to give this guy access to the van -- even if we injured his hand. The man yelled through my closed window that we should open the door and take him somewhere (per Clarice's Lithuanian translation). He tried unsuccessfully to open my door and smeared blood across the side window. Clarice scolded him to stay out of the road. He seemed to understand her message and began walking forward, away from us. As another group of cars passed, the man repeated his attempts to stop them. Once again, Brian's headlights were sufficient to warn the other cars.
After around ten minutes, the man got angry with our bright light and began yelling at us. His body language was sufficient to understand what he was saying: "Either take me into town or move on down the road! Your presence is cramping my style and getting in the way of my objectives." When we didn't leave, the man walked across the four-lane highway and vanished into complete darkness on the opposite side. We waited for 45 minutes before the police arrived on the scene (from Flavio's call). Clarice explained to the policeman what had happened, so he and his partner crossed the median and began searching (with a flashlight) on the opposite shoulder. Finding nothing, they said there was nothing more they could do.
A few minutes before the police arrived, we noticed that the passenger side mirror of the van was now missing -- apparently the man's hand had taken it off (the "bang") -- it had apparently already been cracked and unsturdy -- so Clarice asked if the policeman could write a report stating the situation, in order to get the mirror replaced through the insurance company. Since they couldn't confirm that the reported man actually existed (or that he caused the damage), they couldn't help us. So we drove onward toward Klaipeda.
"There he is again!" Brian exclaimed. Sure enough, the same man was 100 feet ahead of us standing in the road with his right hand outstretched. Brian whipped the car around, crossed the median and raced back in the other direction to inform the policemen. He flashed his headlights at them as they exited the highway. Once they stopped, Clarice explained that we had found the man again, a little further ahead. We followed them, as they slowly drove along the highway -- another eternity -- and then finally pulled over into the shoulder. They had found him -- hooray! They discussed the accident with the man, who apparently claimed that Brian drove into the shoulder while he had been peacefully walking along the road, minding his own business. The policeman gave us two choices: (1) Go with them to the nearest hospital, where they would take blood-alcohol measurements for both the man and Brian (as our driver). If the man was determined to be drunk (and Brian not), then we could get a police report; or (2) we were free to go (but without the police report). Since it was now a little past 1:30 in the morning, and we still had 90 minutes to drive, we opted for the second alternative.
