Flying the red and white Polish flag alongside the yellow and white colours of The Vatican, Poles have taken to the skies and hit Europe's roads and rails in a bid to be in Rome to say farewell to a man many call the father of their nation.
While thousands camped down in train and bus stations in the hope of being among the relative few to get a place on special state transports to the Italian capital, others filled up their cars and got going, and let their banners unfurl behind them as they headed south.
Communist-era, Polish-built copies of the tiny Fiat 126 car buzzed between luxury German imports on the main roads out of Warsaw, some with flags streaming from windows and aerials, others with pictures of Pope John Paul taped to their rear windscreens.
Gone was the angst of the Pontiff's last days and the grief that followed his death. Now Poland was taking its celebration of a remarkable life to the Eternal City, to show the world that the Pope had helped make the nation's spirit strong.
Many people packed up and set off in the direction of the Mediterranean, trusting Europe's straining transport network to get them to the Vatican on time.
"From Vienna we are not sure what to do," admitted Tomas Sokolowski, who was travelling with his wife, Elzbeta, on the overnight train from Warsaw to the Austrian capital. "But we wanted to get moving south no matter what, so we just decided to go."
Despite not having accommodation booked in Rome or a detailed plan of how to get there, the 62-year-olds showed little apprehension of the journey ahead. They carried a bag of Polish staples - bread, pickles, cold meats and cheese - to sustain them.
"Millions of pilgrims are on their way to the same place," said Elzbeta. "We will all look after each other."
In another train compartment Polish sausage and two empty bottles of the local Zywiec beer clustered on a little folding table. In the corridor outside, wreathed in smoke from the first cigarette of the day, a pilgrim named Marek watched dawn cast a pink glow over the steel and glass skyscrapers marking the approach to Vienna.
"He was the only man like that," the 28-year-old said of John Paul. "And there is just one chance to say goodbye to him. I hope to make it, but if I didn't even try, I would always be sorry."