KRAKOW, Poland - Some people couldn't sleep for the tears. Malgorzata Rudowska Bulka blamed the logistics.

Since death bells tolled Saturday night for Pope John Paul II, the director of the Krakturs tour company has lived in a bit of an altered state, swinging from sorrow to hard-charging efficiency, sometimes within the same two-minute conversation. She's trying to help hundreds, if not thousands, of Poles find their way to Rome in time for a historic farewell and funeral.

She's booking buses, chartering planes and ringing up hotel owners in Rome she has known for years. All agreed to cut rates on a three-day tour package, dropping prices to less than $250, so as many people as possible can share a final goodbye in St. Peter's Square.

"They've been wonderful. We've known each other for years and they too don't want any profit out of this," said Bulka, a mother of four who has made a career out of planning pilgrimages for the Polish faithful. And then her eyes flooded with tears. "Everybody, everybody is helping."

As funeral plans for the pontiff were announced Monday, Polish media estimated that up to 1 million Poles would head to Rome over the next two days to bury their national hero. Six extra trains are running from Warsaw to Rome to accommodate the crush, rail authorities announced. Bus service, an option for cash-strapped Poles willing and able to tolerate 24-hour travel, was estimated to reach record levels.

Artur Kaleta and Karolina Golda, both 22, stopped by Bulka's office just as radio stations reported that the pope's burial would take place Friday and his remains would rest in a grotto in St. Peter's. Any hope that the most famous Pole of their lifetime would be buried in his native land - a persistent rumor over the weekend - was dashed. The two university students were pulling together their Polish zlotys to make their way to Rome.

"We don't care where we sleep. We don't care if we eat. We just want to be there," said Kaleta, who like many students at Jagiellonian University donned black in memory of its most famous alumnus. "It's enough for us."

Bulka's entire family had made the pope its business for the past decade. Her husband and son own a bus garage and maintain eight 50-seat buses, all of which will be used for this pilgrimage. Her oldest daughter, Marta, helps in the office. Priests from around Krakow often work and travel with them as religious advisers.

None of them has ever imagined a time like this.

The first faxes requesting travel arrangement arrived Sunday morning. That night, Bulka, 50, gave up on the idea of sleep. Phone calls from places as far away as Chicago could not be ignored. For Bulka, confirming even the most mundane travel details became a kind of special offering.

She met the pontiff more times than she could count during visits to the Vatican. He baptized her youngest daughter, now 8. She compiled thick photo albums of every meeting and, she said, there were enough memories of hugs and blessings from John Paul II to last a lifetime.

So Bukla said she was working around the clock to ensure that the pope who cherished Poland would go to his grave surrounded by Poles who cherished him. With days to go before the funeral, 400 people were set to travel by bus, an additional 100 by plane and she still was counting on nearly everyone in her family to make a personal pilgrimage.

Only one, Bulka confided, would be missing.

"How could I go? How?" she said, tears slipping down her face once again. "I've never been there without him. ... I know his soul is here, now, next to me. That's enough."