There are already over 80 exhibitors on the list of the Caravans Salon Poland fair in Poznań

Part one - click: Busik Po Bezdrożach - Balkans 2015 part I. Our forest path was mostly blocked by machines transporting wood from the forest after felling, so the idea of pushing the bus onto the asphalt turned out to be not quite as simple as we thought at first. The devised plan was to push the bus, and at the same time position it so that we could push it efficiently and land on the asphalt, and then use the falling terrain to turn around and roll down... As there was no power steering and the AT/R tires required the use of significant strength to get out of the way, I sat behind the wheel, and Daniel and Łukasz tried to push me out. The first push was effective, we drove about a meter, then we fell into a rut and got stuck again, the wet clay made it impossible to push properly. We dug up the mogul, as the bus was initially pointed in the right direction, so I switched places with Dominika and we tried to push the three of us, but it didn't help. In the meantime, while the boys continued to have fun digging up the mogul, I took care of our safety... I set up a warning triangle on the roadside and equipped the rest with reflective vests. Asia's task was to drive around the triangle so that oncoming drivers would slow down a bit, especially since we were hard to see from behind the bushes and the Romanian drivers were not on their toes. We managed to push the bus again and stop a meter before the ditch so as to have a chance to run through it. To make things easier, we lined the ditch with pieces of wood collected after cutting down and stones, and additionally put a board on top, which I threw into the car just before leaving home in case we got buried somewhere and needed to put something under it... it's a pity I had only one. It was time for the final push, but Tripciak refused to budge. In the meantime, a truck passed us at high speed, not caring about the triangle or Asia standing by the road, and an Italian driving behind the truck ran over a warning triangle placed on the road with his Alfa, making a fuss from behind the rolled-down window for running over our triangle. What a guy. Well, at least a nice elderly couple saw what was going on and stopped and tried to help us get out of trouble. This time, the four of us managed to get the bus moving, but when the wheel hit the board, it moved and we ended up in the ditch again. Extra. Now the bus was impossible to move without the help of a rope. However, I didn't really like the way we were supposed to woo Tripciak. Pulling it straight was out of the question, because there would certainly be a driver of the Romanian bomber who, despite attempts to temporarily stop the traffic, would try to cut the rope stretched between the cars. Seeing our struggles, a small truck stopped and a young team of boys jumped out of it. Our newly met grandpa who was helping us explained in Romanian what it was all about, so the guys didn't wait and started working right away. They attached a steel rope and pulled Tripciak across the ditch at a 90-degree angle at full speed, without asking them to do it slowly enough. It hurts my eyes, but we managed to get onto the asphalt, the fact that they pulled us in the wrong direction, despite explaining how to do it. A quick handshake and everyone went their separate ways, and we stayed on the road. As it was downhill, I rolled backwards into the corner for a bit, making a slight U-turn, and Daniel and Łukasz, waiting for the right moment, when no one was coming from either side, pushed me forward and I was facing the direction of travel. All that's left is to roll down a few hundred meters and wonder what's next?! First, Daniel dismantled the bowl to see the level of damage. The hole was huge, impossible to patch, and there were two cracks from the impact deep into the bowl. At first, there was an idea to find a piece of steel or sheet metal and stick it on silicone from the inside of the bowl, but such a solution would probably only work for a while, and we would lose our supply of oil, of which we only had 2.5 liters anyway.

What if you could spend a picnic wandering along the river valley? Walk for hours among gentle hills and murmuring streams, climbing to the next viewpoints? Why not run away from the busy reality straight to the landscape park?