Mazury, Day 4, Mikolajki to Gizycko

A cold, clear day dawned in Mikolajki, blue sky, blue water, gusty wind in green trees. A wonderful day to take the 3 hour boat trip to Gizycko, through Lake Talty and several canals to Lake Niegocin, in the northern part of Mazury. A round-trip tour left at 10:30, but we were certain we could get one-way tickets, so we headed down to the docks. At the Kasa Biletowe we were informed that there was no boat to Gizycko; that is, they didn't have one. We looked behind us at the 3 tour boats tied up next to us, then back at the man. "You don't have a boat?" "Nie ma. Not today." He shrugged. What can you do?
So it was back to the tourist office to see what other options were available to get to Gizycko. Buses? Well, yes, but today there was only one, which left at 7 a.m., 3 hours ago. We could catch a bus to Ketrzyn, and try to get a connection there. Trains? Not direct. Again, we might take one to another town and hope for something heading north. Didn't we want to stay in Mikolajki?
After some disappointed discussion, we agreed on a plan. Go back to the docks, and if there was a boat tomorrow, we'd stay in Mikolajki for another day, otherwise, we'd try the bus/train thing. The major reason for visiting Mazury is the lakes, and we really wanted to take this trip. Much to our surprise, in the 45 minutes we'd been gone, the situation had changed. Now the man told us the 3 p.m. boat was available, though he made it sound like the most obvious thing in the world, as if minutes earlier he hadn't told us exactly the opposite. Ah, Poland.
Rejuvenated, optimistic once more, the sun a bit brighter, the wind less chilling, we returned to the tourist office to get help finding a room in Gizycko, as we'd now be getting in much later, and that went smoothly as well. Two phone calls, which I made, in Polish, thank you very much, and we were booked in a small hotel on one of the main streets, just a few blocks from the waterfront. While we were discussing what to do for the next few hours, we met Philippe. He was also headed to Gizycko, and wanted to know how to get there. We told him about the boat and invited him to join us. A Frenchman, it turned out he was studying law in Katowice, the city next to ours. We were practically neighbors.
After some idle wandering, a couple bowls of zurek, and reprovisioning, it was time to go. We got a good table on the top deck, not that it mattered; on a boat that could easily take a hundred passengers, we were 3 of about 15. A group of German cyclists, some elderly couples who stayed downstairs, a few Polish tourists.
The journey was lovely. We had good sun for the first two hours, as we passed through Talty, sailboats weaving around us. Tree-lined canals, storks flapping slowly overhead, occasional towns on the shore, once, an older man patiently waiting at a put-in point with two cans of gas, whether hoping to sell it or a pre-arranged meeting was unclear. We didn't speak much; Philippe was suffering from a head cold and Patrick and I were just enjoying the lake sounds. I sent a snarky text message to all our friends that hadn't joined us: I'm on Lake Jagodne. Where are you?
It was overcast by the time we reached Gizycko, but reasonably mild when the wind wasn't blowing. Philippe came with us to Hotel Jantar to see if they had another room, which they did, and his presence proved unexpectedly helpful as the woman who ran the place spoke no English, but very good French. So in three languages we learned that we could have petit dejeuner anytime we wanted, in the hotel restaurant; that there was some sort of commemorative festival that evening for tomorrow's Constitution Day (her exact words were "Boom, boom."); and that if we returned after the restaurant was closed (since it was also the entrance and reception), we could get in by pressing the buzzer on the back door.
The room was the best yet, and a sharp contrast to the one we'd came from, not least because it had an indoor toilet. On the first floor (second for you Americans) overlooking the street, clean, basic but nice Ikea-like furnishings, a working TV (only 3 channels, but each of them twice), soft, fluffy towels (at the Wysoka Brama they were like drying off with sandpaper), and a shower with just the best pressure I've felt in a long time.
Somewhat worn out from the day's travels and travails, and Philippe from his cold, we ventured out to forage, found pizza and beer to bring back, watched Manchester United get severely beaten by AC Milan, and turned in.