Since we’re told there are no coincidences in life, it must have been fate that a magazine ended up in my hands, sparked something in my head — and launched me onto a career orbiting a planet called Adventure.
I haven’t left that orbit since.
Autumn 2010.
I’m at a petrol station when the latest issue of MotorManiacs practically throws itself at me. Inside — among other things — there’s a story about a scrap rally in Poland.
“Wow… brilliant… I have to do this!”
The requirement: a car from communist production.
No problem — thank you, Internet.
A few clicks later, on a Polish auction site, I’d done the deed.
Congratulations: I was suddenly the owner of an FSO Polonez.
According to the description: built in 1987, just under 80,000 kilometres, hardly any rust, technically sound — and all of it for about €300. 😎
Two weeks later the car is standing in Coburg.
The fact that the seller was a scrap dealer didn’t bother me at first.
Because, let’s be honest:
Buying a car from the dealer round the corner, or some random showroom, is something anyone can do.
Now it’s time: prep the vehicle, find donors, assemble a crew.
Because the countdown is on.
Spring 2011.
The team is complete: my friend Dirk Ress as co-driver, my son Phillip as passenger — and yours truly behind the wheel.
The three of us will line up with the Polonez at the start of Złombol 2011.
And now comes the guaranteed question:
What exactly is Złombol?
Złombol isn’t just a rally.
Not a Sunday drive. Not an “event”.
It’s a state of mind — with a charitable purpose.
It’s an adventure where you take an old communist vehicle and attempt to get from Katowice in Poland to a destination somewhere in Europe.
All entry fees are donated in full — one-to-one, down to the very last cent.
The beneficiaries are known from the start: children in Polish orphanages.
And to make sure nothing “goes wrong”, no one hands over cash.
Instead, things are bought directly, donated directly, and given away directly — until the money is gone.
Simple. Honest. Brilliant.
And since we’re already talking about Złombol, this is the perfect moment to talk about No. 132.
What does that number even mean?
According to Google it could mean many things:
§132 — impersonating an official.
§132a — misuse of titles.
Or perhaps the DIN standard VDE 0132 for firefighting.
But one thing is certain: none of that applies.
It’s more complicated than that.
No. 132 was my first start number — in my first rally, my first adventure.
And you know how it is with “first times”: you don’t forget them.
So I kept the number.
For two more Złombol rallies.
And at some point it became more than a start number:
it became my lucky charm. My talisman.
And eventually — my address.
No. 132 became me, and I became No. 132.
And why this blog?
Good question.
None of this was ever really planned.
Originally, it was meant to be a small page — a way for a few newspaper editors to follow our Złombol adventures and maybe report on it locally.
No grand concept.
No strategy.
No clue about “reach”.
The blog was never properly maintained, the settings weren’t clean, there were hardly any comments — and yet: more than 140,000 visitors.
That’s motivating, of course.
To do more.
To go further.
To start fresh.
So what happens next?
Exactly that.
Quite literally: more, further, new.
First up: Złombol 2011 — more, further, new.
After that?
Everything else.
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