We began the week expecting peaceful nights in the forest, but everything changed when we found a fragile little bird lying helpless on the ground. We named him Pino.

In an instant, our days revolved around caring for him. Every ninety minutes we hurried back to the camper to feed him; even at night Anne woke up to keep him warm with improvised blankets and hot water. It was exhausting and heartwarming, like suddenly becoming foster parents mid‑road trip.

After three days of hope, Pino didn’t survive. The silence that followed hit harder than we expected. For a moment, the world stood still: just us, the trees, and a tiny life we wouldn’t forget.

A tiny life in our hands

On Monday we craved the sea, so we cycled to Sopot, home to Europe’s longest wooden pier, a 511-meter walkway stretching into the Baltic. Normally a postcard view, but that day the rain came sideways, soaking us to the bone.

You even had to pay an entrance fee just to walk on it. Drenched and shivering, we decided our money was better spent on coffee. Laughing at our soaked selves, we pedaled back toward Casa Mariposa to feed Pino. Only a few minutes later Lennard’s tire went flat, forcing us to walk the entire way back. By the time we reached the camper, we were even wetter than before.

Rain soaked Sopot and the Pier we skipped

The rain pushed us inland. We skipped Gdańsk and drove south to Toruń, a UNESCO-listed city on the Vistula River. What a surprise it turned out to be.

Its medieval red-brick walls and cobblestone alleys felt like stepping into a painting. Cafés carried the scent of fresh pierogi into the streets; bakeries tempted us with szarlotka, Poland’s warm apple pie with cinnamon and vanilla ice cream. That dessert turned out to be so good that Anne decided it deserves a place in the cookbook she’s planning to write.

It was a day of simple joy: wandering hand in hand, discovering history and flavours we hadn’t planned for.

Toruń’s flavours and medieval charm

Friday brought another kind of sunshine: the warmth of Polish hospitality. We visited Lennard’s colleague in Łódź and were welcomed like family. Homemade pizza came straight out of the oven, gin-tonics clinked, and laughter filled the night.

We parked Casa Mariposa on their driveway and fell asleep content. The next morning, a traditional Polish breakfast awaited: crusty rolls, cold cuts, strong coffee. As we left, we were handed local sausages to take with us, a little taste of Poland for the road.

Warm Welcomes in Łódź

Chelmno’s haunting silence

Saturday shifted the mood again. On the way to the German border, we noticed signs for Chelmno, the first Nazi extermination camp to use gas vans during World War II. We hadn’t planned to stop, but something told us we should.

The museum, housed in a rebuilt building, detailed how victims were killed upon arrival and taken to the forest to be buried and later burned. Then we visited the memorial site in the woods. The air felt heavy; the sun was shining, yet it seemed cold. No birds sang. Standing among stone-marked mass graves, we felt the weight of history and how close it all had been to everyday life. The village lies right beside the site; the locals must have known.

🌟 Highlight
The heartfelt hospitality of Lennard’s colleague in Łódź: homemade pizza, gin-tonics, and a true sense of belonging.

😬 Low point
The heartbreaking loss of little Pino after three days of care.

🏕 Best overnight spot
Peaceful riverside stay in Ciechocinek.

🔥 Chaosmeter
7/10 – Caring for Pino and constant rain meant plans changed every day.

📊 Total score
8/10 – Despite rain and sadness, we left Poland grateful for its people, flavours, and lessons in history.

Casa Mariposa Meter – Week 7

Next week we’ll make a brief detour back to the Netherlands: Anne’s sister Imke is trying on wedding dresses, and there’s no way Anne would miss that. It’s also the perfect moment to hug family before returning to Poland to continue our adventure.

See you on the road!
– Anne & Lennard 🦋