Wroclaw

We crossed the frontier from the Czech Republic into Poland without even being aware of it. It took our driver, a proud Pole, to tell us that we were now in Poland.

It took two-and-half hours to drive from Ostrava to Wroclaw, which turned out to be a thriving, lively city of half a million. There we were put up in the penthouse of the Art Hotel - a beautiful room right up in the roof, with a stunning view towards the river.

After a late lunch I faced two lengthy interviews with Polish national newspapers, before being collected by my translator and led through the heart of the old city to the library venue for the final event of the tour.

Afterwards we fought our way through partying Poles in the city's historic square to find an Italian restaurant and slake our thirst and feed our hunger on Chianti and pizza. Thence to the hotel and bed, in preparation for a 7am start and a four-hour drive to Prague.

It would have been a weekend off, except for the four press interviews I have tomorrow afternoon. Nae rest and all that!