Dubrovnic to Macedonia, (via Montenegro and Albania)

From Dubrovnic to Macedonia.

On Thursday 29^th, after Ann had flown out, I had a chill out day still at the Cavtat apartment. I re-looked at the route for the next part of the trip as I have to follow it on the map because Satnav does not work now except for major roads between main cities. I completed the first leg of the blog and then went for a wander in the town. The following morning, I departed for the Croatia/Montenegro border. The roads here are slow, partly because they are so twisty but also because everyone travels about slowly with the exception of the few real maniacs who overtake on dreadful bends regardless of anyone else who may be in oncoming traffic.

Kotor street looking to the castle

Bay of Kotor

Main gate in Kotor's wall

The clock tower and pyramid pillory

At the Montenegran border I stopped and had to buy local insurance. Oddly, two days before when Ann and I went down to Hercog Novi, nobody had asked us about insurance and so I guess we were there all day without any! I rode on round the coast road and to the Bay of Kotor, a large and beautiful bay rather like a flask with a narrow entrance. It was formed by a glacier which still exists high up on Mt Tiava behind Kotor itself. In the bay are two small islands, on one is a church and the other a monstery. The whole monastery island has now been bought by some entrpreneur, probably of dubious origin, and converted into a luxury hotel and resort complex. There is still the obvious few wealthy and the rest. I met an ex London fireman at a road side pull in who, catching my registration plate, came up to talk to a fellow Brit. He told me in his cockney accent that he had moved here to be able to live on his pension and had built an apartment block which he rents for tourists and lives on the ground floor. He openly told me that the massive house next door to him was owned by a Russian “Mafia boss” who usually lived elswhere in Europe somewhere but came here about twice a year for holidays. Most of the hotels and bigger shops and restaurants are owned by either Russians or Germans who bring their money into Montenegro to avoid taxes elsewhere. Same as everywhere I suppose, “where there's muck there's money”.  (I also learned in Albania, that almost all the worthwhile places on this side of the Adriatic coast have been bought by Russian multi-millionaires, encouraged it seems by top government offices in the Kremlin....interesting move?  Hotels, islands, bits of coastline, large villas, superstores and car dealerships.)

Reliquary in Cathedral of numerous sainted legs

Kotor was an interesting small city, extremely ancient and like an inverted funnel from the coast to the mountain, all surrounded by walls with a castle high on top. The city is an absolute delight and a maze of streets in which one can wander in the cool of the walls and constantly emerge on little piazzas and find tiny corner shops and boutiques. Inside the Cathedral I saw the reliquary area which had cabinets full of silver encased legs and arms and other bits all purporting to be from various saints.  It makes one wonder whether there was some guy who went around specifically martyring priests and other good guys for their limbs.... a sort of primitive business idea. It certainly kept the medieval silversmiths in business, and has probably been a long term investment with all the donations that have been given.  These high church guys certainly know how to make a bob or two to keep themselves comfy.


  I wandered for a couple of hours, stopping periodically at cafes for drinks and to people watch. The castle was beyond my intention however as it was 1000m above the town up 1500 steps. I decided that the view up was probably almost as good as the view down.

The main gate to the city, off the harbour, had dates from 17^th C on the pillars, when the gateway was re-structured, but when it was absorbed into the former Yugoslavia, they decided to put a large communist star on a stone above it...all blends into history I suppose. Just inside the gate in the tunnel in the walls is a very lovely carved shrine and immediately inside the walls, in the main piaza, a lovely clock tower in front of which is a strange stone pyramid mounted on a plinth. This was apparently some sort of 17^th C pillory but I could not for the life of me imagine how anybody was attached to it. Not at all like the old pillory blocks which one can see in some places in England.

It is not a long trip, but a slow one, to the Albanian border, as the Montenegran coastline is quite short. Still tortuous coast and mountain roads, with big drops and magnificent views. The queue for the Montenegro/Albanian border was about a mile long and I followed a couple of local scooters down to the front with no obvious objection from those in their cars. Once there, it was a surprisingly easy passage through, but nobody takes much notice of a lone biker and a few pannier bags.

(Coming through the Montenegro-Albania border crossing, I met a couple of British guys in a Suzuki 4x4 packed to the gunnels with stuff. They were accompanied by another small car with two seemingly Australian girls in it. They were on a trip to Mongolia on what is termed the “Mongol Rally” which is a charity run for many different charities but these guys were doing it for orphans in Mongolia. I gave them a small donation and wished them good luck. Check out their web site and send one of the teams a little if you can.http://mongolrally.theadventurists.com/index.php It seemed like a good cause and a great adventure which occurs every year. I quite fancy the idea one year!)

The first area that one gets to in Albania begins to say it all. Immediately one sees that it is dirty and there is a lot of litter about and much fly tipping. The travelling is slow on roughish roads and the traffic was gradually building up as I approached Tirane. As I actually entered it, it became obvious that this is a free for all. No rules, straight dirty fighting for your place on the road and who plays chicken loses. It was a snail's pace to get to the centre. I was immediately unhappy about being there alone and with the bags on the bike. It is not a slum exactly, but the run down and multicoloured decaying concrete high rises, together with the multitudes on the streets in the everyday hustle and bustle of daily existence here made me feel that to park up and walk about would put the bike and bags at very high risk. I did stop at a few main places and took a photo or two, but have to confess that it did not tempt me to go walk about and I even decided not to bother to go to see Castle Rofaza on the hill side out of town.....  mostly because the entrance to it was up a very rough road indeed which left the poorest part of town where there were proper slum areas. Castle Rofaza is named after a poor woman who was apparently walled up in the outer wall for good luck. She was breast feeding at the time and her husband allowed her a hole through which the baby was passed for her to suckle! Legend has it that twice a year part of the wall leaks milky fluid and infertile women go there the ask Rofaza for help to get pregnant. I think that she would be the last person to ask for advice, since it seems clear that although she managed to get pregnant, she clearly had little experience of motherhood beyond that of being an early milk shake machine.  I guess that, at least, she was spared having to bare anymore children under her husband was very well endowed indeed. The guide book does not say what happened to her but it seems that it was to impart a sort of blessing on their new home....yeh right!  

Taci oil

Kastrati  garage

Some miles outside Tirane, I stopped at a garage to have a long cool drink and while there watched three men each down two litre glasses of beer before they got in their respective cars and drove on down the road. Apart from wanting to complete my journey, I have to admit to riding very carefully as I do not want a run in with any police forces, who treat locals and tourists very differently and whose language I can't speak. ( On subject of garages....catch the two photos....I mean....doesn't this say it all.....Kastrati garages and Taci oil!....well would you fill up there?)

I was getting a little concerned as to where I was going to stay in Albania. I decided that Elbasan, some way down the road may be a better bet than Tirane. On the route I stopped to check tyre pressures at a small township called Librazhd. There was a wedding going on and I filmed a bit, but didn't actually see the bride and groom! The reason for a look about was the neighbouring market place which was like a car boot sale!... you could even buy used nails, nuts and bolts and screws from one stall. Another was selling strange but quite interesting bowls and baskets and flower holding pedestals made from varnished pine cones all glued together. The music and the atmosphere though was pretty authentic, although I was never more than 100 yards from the bike, still not feeling very safe. Perhaps I was and perhaps not, but I could not afford to take risks.

The ride from here to Elbasan was great. A super mountain pass with great swoops and bends although not a lot of side protection if you miscalculate! Sadly, spoilt by a rubbish site on which two puppies had been abandoned.

The mountains were spectacular. They just rolled on and on after each other into distant sky. It was hot in the valley but comfortable as one climbed and with the wind from the ride. Eventually I reached the top of the pass and stopped at a restaurant on top where I ate spit roasted sheep and a tomato salad and filled up with a litre of iced tea. On the other side the pass was less steep and curved in large swoops down to the Elbasan valley. First site was so mixed....on the hillside was a shepherd with his flock of sheep, the mountains at the other side of the valley, a large river breaking into branches across a narrow flood plain and the township spreading out with it's red roofs, and a few inevitable concrete towers. But, there in the forefront of the view was an enormous derelict factory complex, about a mile square alongside the river. Much of it was just the concrete framework where the bricks had been removed, like a huge industrial skeleton rotting on the plain. ( I was told later that it had been a huge Yugoslavian steelworks, and that with the collapse of the State, there was no market for the steel and with the poor economy, the locals took everything they could from it for their houses and other building)

Once off the pass and into Elbasan it felt a bit better. It is still very poor, but there is not the huge density of people and traffic, and on the road through I found a fairly modern hotel which had electric gates and an undercover car park area, so I stayed there for the night.

I have since been told by Macedonian friends I have met, that I should have gone into the south of Albania where the whole atmosphere and the peoples are quite different and it is beautiful, but I regret that, my first impressions of Albania and the Foreign Office advice to travellers here, lead me to chicken out and head out the following morning for the Macedonian border. Macedonia, again, another place that one has heard of, but who knows anyone who has been there! I only knew that St. Paul had been there once and also had written a few letters to friends there!

I need not have worried. The reception at the border was open and friendly. Suddenly, a mile down the road, which was a reasonable quality, it all felt quite different. Macedonia is really lovely. It still has a Yugoslav flavour but slightly mixed with southern Italy feel. Cyprus trees, plains, mountains, fields and farms and almost an absence of people! The population is only some 2 million altogether. The first stop was at Ohrid on the side of the beautiful Lake Ohrid. This is the largest visited place in Macedonia outside Skopje. It is a very ancient site, although the old town now has few very ancient buildings. This is an inland holiday destination, with lovely lakeside beaches and small resorts. Ohrid felt safe and clean. The main features of all these old townships is their churches or monasteries, soI guess that for those of you who are agnostic or atheist, they might hold limited appeal. However, just simply for their artistic and architectural interest, they are a major attraction. Many old cities and towns across the whole of Europe started because they were of strategic importance and built castles and inner townships, or founded Christian settlements away from persecution. In Ohrid, there is a superb church, 11^th C, with erlier foundations from the 8^th C. The construction with a mixture of tiles inlaid with brickwork is fascinating and the interior cool, welcoming and beautiful. I wandered the old town streets and also went to the large market. I am always fascinated by these, even though I seldom buy there. They are the hub of a town and you see all sorts and get a taste for the place there. I also found a barbers and had a haircut as the hot weather was causing rapid growth of the locks and bad “helmet hair”. The barber really was a proper barber....I waited in the queue for my turn and watched him shave the previous three customers who had only gone there for a shave. Open razor and tremendous precision, Squeezing and stretching the face skin and wiping the foam on the razor on the palm of his other hand. Not a nick on any of them. This was followed by a splash down with cold water and then a facial massage with some moisturiser and a neck massage. All for 2 pounds. My haircut cost the equivalent of 1 pound fifty pence. ( Had already shaved so gave that a miss!)

After Ohrid, I set off for Bitola. Coming in I noticed a roadside placard for Hotel Capri,***, and thought this sounded a safe place to stay. After another super but slowish ride through the countryside, different views at every turn of the road. I came into Bitola centre down a dilapidated but clearly previously grandiose boulevard, a river flowing down the centre of a two lane dual carriageway and bordered by some lovely villas and grand buildings, most of which needed a lot of work to restore to their former glory. Bitola had been a very important trading centre in the past and is on the main road through Macedonia. I had not seen any more signs for the hotel and pulled up at the town square. A policeman on a BMW on the other side of the square pulled over an came alongside greeting me with a comment about the nice bike. I said his was good too and we shook hands. He asked me in good English if I needed help and I said that I wanted to find the hotel Capri. He mad a quick telephone call and told me they had a room, and to follow him! We rode in convoy through the town and he rode straight into the hotel car park and gave me a biker hand shake and high five! He rode out with a quick siren blast to say goodbye. There was a wedding reception starting there so I guess they wondered who or what had turned up with a police escort.

It was no wonder that I had not seen the hotel...The sign board outside was written in Cryllic alphabet, but although I cannot find Cryllic to show you, was written something like “KanpN”. Must get to understand some Cryllic as clearly it is going to be necessary!

The following morning I went into Bitola and found it a very lovely old place. It had obviously seen wealthy days and was now pretty run down, but the beauty of the old twonship still shone through and the people there all seemed very friendly and greeted you with a smile. There are some very grand old buildings in the older part of town, including what was the old military academy where Attaturk the founder of modern Turkey trained as a soldier in 1912. This is now a city museum. Over the road from there is what used to be the old Officers' Club, but is now a civic possession and derelict, although quite restorable and would make a magnificent centre hotel or civic centre if there was the money available, which clearly there isn't. The whole place had a feeling of an old colonial township where there had been a hive of business and commerce, but sadly is no more.

I left Bitola about noon, and rode north through Prilep and towards the area of Negotino where there are many vinyards. Macedonia had been the principal grape region for the former Yugoslavian wine industry. It was beautiful here, fertile and smothered in farms and small vinyards across the plains and to the sides of the mountains. Irrigation from mountain reservoirs and the river in the valley floor clearly makes it a highly fertile area. Small tractors with carts or horses and carts passed back on forth on the small roads. I passed an enormous factory which had been a wine processing factory in the past but was now looking very run down but also several new large cooperative wineries where vast stainless steel tanks silos were current testament to the production levels.

Finally, I came into Negotino, a little like a very small Bitola. I sat at a table in the town centre cafe area and waited for a drink. Nobody came so I went to the cafe and the girl told me that it was a national holiday for the founding of Macedonia day and nobody was working. However she kindly offered to make me a coffee and sell me an iced tea and I sat at the table and relaxed. It was not long before I saw a chap on a small cruiser bike who had been round once or twice. He parked up and came over to me and asked me in excellent English if the BMWwas my bike. I was a bit suspicious to begin with and he then went on to say that he would take me to see a local vineyard and show me Skopje. His name was Goran, and it turned out that he was a doctor, who was visiting home here in Negotino and waiting for some friends to come down from Skopje for the day. He was doing internal medicine in Skopje. His dad had been a GP here, his brother now is, and he invited me to his mum's house for a meal with them all. It was a wonderful afternoon and evening, in the company of splendid new friends. One of those lovely experiences that happen if you are lucky, like they did when I was in the USA. The great pleasure and privilege of being taken in by a family and treated as an honoured guest for a short while with total openness and trust. Enough for now....Macedonia needs a new page and in any case, you'll all be pigged off reading this lot by now.

Regards, Doc.


More pictures follow soon.....having slight problem with uploading them on slow internet.