Balkan Hopping

Kosovo welcomed us properly. Instead of the usual grilling by the border patrol (why why why do I seem so suspicious to officials??), we were given hiking tips for the area! Thoroughly heartened, we set out across the country, through some stunning mountainous landscapes with bright blue rivers winding their way through. Unfortunately however, Kosovo has the same problem that we've run into in every country since Greece - rubbish. In Albania we learnt that the country was once extremely efficient in re-using absolutely everything, as everything was so expensive, so there was barely any waste. But as the countries in this area have grown wealthier, people are no longer economically driven to hold on to their jam jars and plastic containers, and have picked up a more western "throw-away" attitude. The waste infrastructure however has not caught up to this change, and we saw towns without enough public bins, streets littered with refuse and literal mountains of trash (they don't even have landfill, which, as bad as it is, is better than leaving it in mounds with plastic bags blowing off into the distance.

So here is a snapshot of the kind we would usually take, showing the lovely scenery, and then the harsh reality that we usually crop out - even a remote mountain road has trash piled on the sides.

Kosovo Landscape

Kosovo Reality

Our first stop in Kosovo was the town of Pec. When we arrived there was a strange traffic jam consisting only of men. And as we crawled along, the footpaths were filled with only men and boys, all streaming towards a cemetery, many wearing red football shirts with a man's face printed on it. A famous footballer funeral? Who knows, but it was a super strange way to enter a town.

After several mistakes trying to find somewhere to stay (who calls a restaurant "Camp"?), we decided to risk it and parked right in the centre of town, in an office carpark. We mimed some sleeping actions to a man (who may or may not have had anything to do with said carpark), and decided it was fine. We went for a drink at a rooftop bar, which seemed unusually quiet for a Friday night until we realised it was Ramadan - juice for us! The local hotel was still serving meals however, so we had dinner there, and watched three siblings covered head to toe in protective gear race on their rollerblades across the square. The youngest boy decided to cheat his sisters and gave himself a head-start, which caused him to crash into another local boy in a kid-sized jeep. Needless to say, tantrums look the same in any language, and we probably didn't help by grinning our amusement.

The next day at 8am we set out for the real reason for visiting Pec - CHEESE. Every Saturday the locals hold a cheese market in a little enclosed square. We wandered in and were so obviously the only tourists there, we stood out like sore thumbs. Every seller wanted us to buy their cheese, which was sold out of big timber churns, plastic tubs and plastic bags. We had tasted a cheese in a salad the previous week, and it looked a lot like these - creamy and soft. So I was really hoping to buy something similar, that was salty and smooth. Nobody spoke any English, and everything look pretty similar - some cheeses were runnier, some had a film formed on the top, but they all looked good. We still weren't supposed to eat unpasteurized dairy products but...

Eventually we decided to purchase from a couple of old ladies. We mimed what we wanted and the man standing beside us, who spoke a little broken English, helped us, and I tasted the cheese. It was more like super thick Greek yoghurt than cheese... but now I'd tasted it there wasn't really much option to decline buying. One of the ladies started scooping the cheese from the bucket into a plastic bag - even the first scoop was ginormous. And she just kept going! We were frantically making motions of "enough!", until we realised it was the man's order, not ours - oops. Nevertheless, we also ended up with the minimum 1 scoop, and walked out wondering what on earth we would do with several kilos of yoghurt! At least it only cost 1.50.

Outside, there were fruit and veg stalls, herbs, live poultry and rabbits. We bought onions and shallots from a man who placed them on an old-fashioned set of scales, moving the little metal weights until the tray balanced.

Our next night would be in the capital, Prishtina. This time we had checked ahead, and there were definitely no campsites in the area. Not wanting to stealth camp in a big city, we booked an apartment for the night. 38 euros in Kosovo gets you a super-modern 2-bedroom apartment (they were still building the carpark), with airconditioning and a washing machine! The luxury! We got our money's worth through the 4 loads of washing alone!

There were lots of nice bars and restaurants and a few interesting buildings, but not much else to see.

The strange library building:

Locals watching the game:

The following day we headed to Macedonia (Kosovo is small!). We had the usual sour faces at the border crossing, but we know the drill now. As Macedonia was another of the countries not covered in our car insurance, we had to buy it from at agent at the border (who was taking a nap when we walked in and woke him). Other countries had required 15 euro for a couple of weeks, or 50 euro for a month in Albania. The guy for Macedonia told us it would be 230 euro!!!!. Liam and I looked at each other and said we'd go back to Kosovo. "No no no!" the man said. "I make you special - only 120 euro". Ok, so not only was the price still exorbitant, now we were involved in some sort of corruption... I said to Liam that there was no way we should go along with this, at which point the man said "ssh!", and told Liam "don't listen to her (hand palm to me), see here, I make you special offer", and made a big show of writing 230, crossing it out vigorously, then writing 120. "No way", we said, and turned to leave.

Finally, he made his last effort - "Ok ok, I give you for 50 euro". We looked at him incredulously - there was no way we wanted what this guy was selling - it couldn't possibly be legit. Then he opened the desk drawer and started pulling out neat stacks of insurance receipts, each with a 50 euro note paperclipped to it. "See", he said "50 euro no problem. You just give me little coffee-money, hm? Coffee-money and you pay 50 euro". FINE. We paid the 50 euro, plus 2 euro for the man's "coffee-money". Clearly the insurance costs 50 euro, and he just tries to see how much he can make on the side.... goodness knows how many tourists go for the 230 euro!!

We headed to the Matka river, which turns out to be hugely popular with the locals. There were cars parked all alongside the road, vendors selling fairy floss, nuts and cherries, and plenty of people at the one restaurant. We parked and then walked along the river flowing through the canyon, to the dam wall of the hydro-electric plant, and had a local wine at the restaurant while enjoying the scenery.

Eventually the crowds thinned out and we decided it was fine to move the van to a picturesque spot by the river to stay the night. A Polish campervan joined a little further along, so we felt we could get away with it.

Around 11pm we headed to bed, and maybe 10 minutes later there was a "thump thump thump" on the van. Great. They could have moved us on at any point during the afternoon but instead waiting until we were nearly asleep. Just fantastic.

I dragged myself to the cab while putting on a cardigan, and wound down the window while thinking "this is not the large official person I expected - this is a girl in a hoodie"...

as she gestured frantically at the water lapping above her ankles, steadily rising under our van! "LIAM. We need to move NOW".

The river was rising at a rapid rate, and the Polish couple had gotten their own van to higher ground (their campsite now well and truly submerged), before wading back to warn us.

We launched into action, started the van (thank goodness), and roared out of the river, making waves.

It turns out that a heavy downpour was forecast for the following day, so the hydrostation was probably releasing water from the dam as a precaution. We were now wiiiide awake and jittery, so watched the water rise higher before eventually giving in to sleep.

Lesson learnt.

The next day we headed to Skopje, which is a jewel of a city. The government has graced every square with a fountain, and everywhere you turn there is a statue or a sculpture. They are still building new bridges just for pedestrians (and statues) and river walkways (also with statues). We had an excellent lunch of grilled meat with salad and salty, puffy bread rolls, then wandered the little streets. A very nice lady sold us some baklava for dessert, and we meandered past blacksmith's workshops, souvenir stalls selling ceramics, and then dove into the market. This big, covered area is full of absolutely anything you might need. Especially if you need cucumbers. A LOT of cucumbers. We had never seen eggs stacked so high, or mountains of rice and other grains laying out ready to be weighed. Our purchases are probably too weird to be shared on a blog - duct tape and razor blades. No, we are not freaky criminals, duct tape is just useful and the razor blades were so cheap!

Next, we visited the "Museum of the Macedonian Struggle", which is as melodramatic as the title implies. It's a great museum, full of very life-like wax figures like Madam Tussaud's, but depicting defeats, torture and suicide. Our guided tour was somewhat informative, but we got the feeling that the country was just wallowing in its failures, which while tragic, also just isn't a good look for a nation.

City of statues

City of statues

Blacksmith

The market

Egg seller

So many cucumbers

Rice and grains by the kilo

Museum for the Macedonian Struggle

Ah well, back to Kosovo for us. We drove up a mountain hoping to find a nice secluded spot to wildcamp, but seemed to be tailed most of the way by a KFOR van (Kosovo Force - NATO still has a presence in the country). Eventually we found a great place along a dirt road at the top of the mountain, high, high about the city of Prizren, with a fantastic view.

As we hadn't been at a campsite now for days, it was necessary to empty out our little toilet. We make a point of using an eco-friendly green product (literally, this stuff is a vivid green colour) so that at times like these, when we're remote enough, it can be emptied out and buried, just like taking a poop in the woods. So Liam carefully lifts the loo up (also full of flush water, so very heavy), and goes to step out of the van, misses the step, does some sort of combat roll mid-air and lands about a metre away, along with the toilet. This is a BAD situation. Liam might have broken a bone, he might have broken the toilet (!), making this a very sh***y situation. Add to this, we are on top of a mountain on a dirt road, in the dark, and I can barely drive a hatchback in optimal conditions, let alone the van down this track to a hospital. Damn.

Luckily Liam is only bruised and scraped, the toilet is fine (partly thanks to Liam's acrobatics to place it before he crashed), and I do not have to drive anywhere. Another lesson learned.

The next day we make our way slowly down to Prizren, which is a cute little town with arched bridges over a clear stream, crumbling buildings and lots of little cafes. We have some lunch at another grill, though slightly miscommunicate "5 mici (small sausages)" as 5 each... So 10 sausages, bread, potatoes and salad later, for the grand sum of 4 euro, we waddle back to the van.

Prizren

Buildings

Buildings

Colours

The Mosque

Buildings

Buildings

Buildings

Ruins and Wires

Wires

Sky Wires

Buildings

Onwards to Albania again, where the brilliant sunshine has me convinced that we should have a bbq (now I'm addicted to everything grilled on charcoal). We find a butcher in a small town, and have an amusing mime conversation where we try to work out what animals we are looking at. We want lamb or goat, and when the butcher lady eventually shouts out to a neighbor who can translate for us, we find that they have neither. So we order some pork chops which she expertly cleaves off for us. Then it is time to pay, and I'm already confused as I've had in my purse Macedonian denar, euros in Kosovo, and now Albanian Leke again, all in the space of 24 hours. And the bill comes to 30 thousand leke, which to my addled brain seems to be more than 200 euro... Eventually I just hold out my handful of change and she takes a couple of coins, at which point I remember that some older citizens still work in the old leke, which was 10000 old to 1 new leke or somesuch craziness, due to some previous hyper-inflation. Confusion all around, but we got our barbecue!