Letter from Paul (definitely no Saint) to the Macedonians

When I have previously thought of Macedonia, I sort of associate it with biblical stuff...letters from St.Paul etc and I have to confess that, before I started to plan this trip, if you had asked me where Macedonia was exactly, I would not have been able to tell you. Well, Macedonia has had a chequered history of a couple of millennium, and more, of occupation by other peoples and so it has been associated with other countries rather than itself and it's own people. Even now, the ancient Macedonia is not what you see now as parts of it are still absorbed into northern Greece, southern Serbia and Eastern Bulgaria. The rows still continue, and despite wanting to be called Macedonia, in a recent bid for EU membership,(which they really ought to have), Greece vetoed their name, and their membership. What right Greece have exactly, with their record, is very debatable, but nonetheless they still have to call themselves the FYROM, the Former Yugoslav Republic of Macedonia. That is as stupid as all the old Yugoslav countries having to do the same. Yugoslavia was a political bundle rather than a democratic alliance, but the problem is property, power, wealth and possession, and when borders have changed as a result of wars, even after the wars have stopped, it seems that, as always, the winners are those who can persuade, or buy,  allegiances in their struggles to maintain lands gained.

Well, I shall refer to the FYROM as Macedonia, influenced largely by how I enjoyed being there, and also, because I think they have an absolute right to call their country Macedonia, even if it is missing some captured bits.

Enough of this.  That is too much of a prologue when I know that attention spans in reading the blog can usually only be about 5 minutes.

Lakeside Ohrid

Central Ohrid

Old 11thC Church Ohrid

Inside the ancient church

Ancient clock tower Ohrid

Old buildings down side street Ohrid

Macedonia was a really beautiful country, still quite poor by western standards but with a wealth of the most beautiful countryside, fields, plains and mountains, and an amazingly friendly and hospitable people. I say that not simply because I met 6 lovely people personally, but because I had such a warm welcome by everybody I met. It was such a relief after the northern part of Albania, especially since Macedonia was a complete unknown.
The first place I went to was Ohrid, the most visited city in Macedonia and one of the most ancient settlements. It is on the shores of the beautiful Lake Ohrid,    ( where they have an endangered trout species). The impression is that one is at the sea, because it is an inland resort with a beach, but the old town is generally where most people visit. The outstanding place I saw was an 11thC church but this was built on the foundations of one from the 8thC. There were many interesting side streets with some lovely old houses. One of these housed a two room paperworks where the artisan is making paper in the ancient way from wood pulp suspended in water and stirred and sieved to a sheet which is left to dry. He also prints on this paper on a press that William Caxton would have recognised!

The old Officers' Club at Bitola

Villa on way into Bitola

Central Bitola

Off then to Bitola, another lovely surprise. The entry is down a 2 mile, run down boulevard with the river running down the centre of the dual carriageway. Each side is lined with villas, from the 18th/19th centuries, now mostly run down but still showing their heritage and still reclaimable. On the way in I was looking for the Hotel Capri as I have stated and I had my first run in with the law, a most pleasant and extraordinary experience which I think really typifies the warm hearted and welcoming people as I was to find out. The city centre is dowdy but beautiful with the old Imperial type of building all over it, mostly in a tatty condition but still rendering the place with considerable style. The Old "Officers' Club from the late 1800s being a classic example, though now closed since the Military Academy there, is long since become a museum. ( It was here that in 1912, Mustafa Kamel Ataturk, the revolutionary who was to be the founder of modern Turkey, did his military training.....no jokes about Mustafa camel please.....that was Lawrence of Arabia who often settled for a lot less!)

Back Row: Elena, Dean, Me, Goran, Djan
Front row, Alex(in trousers he has had since he was 12) and Oliver....yes that really is his full height. (He rides a 600cc  skate board)

From Bitola, I set out for an area in the mountains where they grow most of the grapes which used to make Yugoslavian wine so famous and well loved in the U.K. ( Yugoslavian Reisling was a favourite tipple in the 1960's) This area centres around Kavadarci and Negotino. I just rode through the region enjoying the countryside and the ride, and did not stop in Kavaraci since basically all I saw were lots of apartment blocks and some large wine processing plants. So for some reason I ended up coming into Negotino, the entrance to which reminded me a little of Bitola, though a lot less grand and more rural in nature. It was Monday 2nd August and I rolled up into the town square ablaze with sunshades and resturants but seemingly devoid of people. I had thought it was quiet everywhere before I arrived here, but apart from a dozen or so people there was very little. I sat at a table waiting for a drink but nothing happened and so I went to the cafe and asked the lass if I could have a coffee. She told me that it was a National Holiday for the founding of the country and she was on holiday and not working. However, typically again, she offered to make me a coffee and bring me an iced tea. I sat in the shade of the umbrella just chilling and noticed a chap came round several times on a motorcycle and stopped close by but then moved on. About the third time, he stopped. He came over to me and said hello and sat down asking me in excellent English, where I was from and was that my bike? I was a bit suspicious at first but he asked me if I would like to come to his house where he was expecting friends for dinner and his mother was cooking. It turns out that Goran Necev is an internal medicine doctor in Skopje, and, the same as me, his father was a doctor as is his brother, Alex. He was quite insistent and since I had nothing else planned I thought I would take a chance on a pleasant afternoon. That choice was the making of my trip to Macedonia and the absolute epitomy of the impression I already was gaining about the welcoming and warmth of the Macedonian people.  I followed Goran on his "motorcycle" (a Chinese 250 cc cruiser thing about which even his friends are rude, so I think I can be too!) to their family home where I met his delightful and welcoming mother, and his brother Alex.  afterwards, his friends arrived, Dean (Dan) with his girlfriend Elena, on his Yamaha 650, and Djan (John) and Oliver. We had a lovely meal together of a particular Macedonia style which was delicious and they all spoke brilliant English. English that was good enough to be able to joke and really understand and get to know each other. I loved them all very soon and know that we shall remain in contact. Isn't just amazing when you get these few hours together and just "click", despite the enormous difference in our ages!

Most of them could have been my children! After dinner, they decided to take me on a visit to local winery and so Dean and Elena, Goran and myself departed
on the bikes with Djan and Oliver in a car following. Oliver took some pictures of us riding on the way which was great as one seldom gets a picture of one actually ON the bike and moving.

Look....no feet on the floor

Amphitheatre at Scobi

Named seat in amphitheatre

The following day, Alex had offered to show me the archaeological site at Stobi, a few miles west of Negotino. He had his morning surgery in Negotino so we met after lunch in his "siesta period." It must have been nearly 40 degree when we strolled round the dig sites. Quite wonderful with enormous amount already discovered of the ancient Roman settlement which was at the junction of the two rivers. The two outstanding features for me were the

Pavement at Scobi

The Roman Baptistry

amphitheatre with the carvings of the Roman families names on the seats and the fact that there are original gladiatorial entrances. and perhaps the most beautiful of what has been discovered, a 4th C Basilica which has adjacent to it, a most beautiful mosaiced Baptistry which has two steps down and three steps out signifiying the baptism in the trinity. Predating this are many other Roman houses, and remnants of the Forum and also of a very large cauldarium or bath house. We were both dripping by the time we had finished, and we certainly did not need a hot bath house after this. It was sad to have to say goodbye to Alex, but he had to get back to his surgery and I had arranged to meet Goran near his apartment in Skopje, so we bade farewell to each other.

Old market place Skopje

Goran

I moved on in during the afternoon to Skopje, the capital city, where Goran works and we met and shared coffee at the street cafe next to his apartment,
where Oliver also rocked up and Dean and Elena. Goran and had I dinner together at one of the restaurants on the hillside overlooking the city. The following day he had taken as holiday and he took me on a guided tour of the old city and the castle. We also went into the amazing old market area, a place which sells the most beautiful fruit and vegetable and spices and herbs and almost anything else that one could possibly want. Note the stills for making home made brandy!  I felt as if I had known Goran and his friends for years and yet it was still less than 48hours. We ended up about mid afternoon in the modern centre at a cafe which is almost opposite the memorial building and statue of Mother Theresa who was a  Macedonian nun! ( well I bet less than 5 % of you knew that) (Just a thought, (bearing in mind what I have seen happen from the cabinets in the Cathedral at Kotor, )while she is waiting to see if she is granted a Sainthood.....do you suppose that they have kept her limbs and other bits ready to encase in gold as reliquaries around the world?  If so how many legs and arms do you reckon there may be?...I am sure she would prefer the money to go to the people she worked for rather than into the coffers of the Church.) Soon after we arrived, Dean also turned up to say goodbye. He works as the manager of a local radio station in Skopje and popped out "for a business meeting"!

Domestic size or kitchen size sir?

Mother Theresa statue. (Unfortunately,
 it does look slightly as if she is sitting on the loo,
 but you will notice her foot behind her, so I think
she is only genuflecting)

Dean and Goran "ride off into the sunset"

Yes, Skopje had a lot to see and is a pretty nice modern city although it feels like most others and there is little in particular that stands out. If there is one thing at all that I shall remember about Macedonia it is not the beauty of Ochrid, or the fascination of the old empires at Bitola or Stobi, and not the old Ottoman areas of Skopje; it is the remarkable warmth of its' people, especially these six. I know that, God willing, we shall meet again and hopefully ride together.

It was with a big lump in my throat that I left them all and said goodbye to Goran and Oliver who also came to see me off the following morning.   I set off for the Macedonia/Bulgaria border.

Monastaery at Kriva Palanka

The porch of the church at Kriva Palanka

As I approached the border town of Kriva Palanka, it was getting very cloudy and an ominous black cloud covered the mountains. I had hardly noticed it and hoped that I could make the last few miles without getting wet. Luck was not with me however and I rode into a curtain of torrential rain, from dry to soaking wet within a 3 minute period. I was absolutely drenched through but could not be bothered to stop at that stage and it was warm so I simply rode on. Water poured across the roads making riding dangerous and I stopped for half an hour inthe shelter of a service station on the outskirts of the town. I was heading for a famous monastery here which had a tradition of hosting travellers. It was some 3 miles up a mountain road to the south of the town. I climbed through a couple of tight hairpins on a narrow road and then crossed a small bridge over the steep gorge to the monastery. What a beautiful place! No longer an active Monastery, it has specialised in its role as a harbour to travellers, and although there was no room in the smart parts, the senior brother there offered me a dormitory bed which I actually had to myself for the night.(NOT THE BED.....the room!) My washing facility was in their laundry which had a hand basin

My dormitory

Onward, upward and eastward to Bulgaria

 between two washing machines and also had a shower and toilet, a bit public for my tastes, but nevertheless accepted as I was pretty fed up by the time I arrived. Sadly I left the lovely shaving brush that Ann had given me on the top of the loo, but otherwise, it was clean and comfortable if somewhat basic! The charge was just 10Euros! It continued to rain for some hours and also to thunder which, rolling around the gorge, was quite atmospheric. The following morning I left for the border and passed into Bulgaria.


Best wishes, Doc.

P.S.  Posting pictures is still a nightmare...it takes an hour to write the text and about 3 to load the pictures.  Eventually, when loaded, it is very hard to move them into the place you want and then the  text doesn't always wrap properly. Being a Google facility you would think they would have made it idiot proof by now, but we idiots will just have to struggle on and I hope that the slight displacement of photos doesn't spoil the overall read.  Doc . 

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.

Bosnia to Dubrovnic

Republic Srpska building

Orthodox Cathedral B.L.

On Friday we left Ljubliana and had a day of broken but effective travel. Via Zagreb and the border at Bosanska Gradista we entered Bosnia and made our first stop at Banja Luka. The centre of BL is much improved in the last 15 years. When I first went there it was just to the British HQ located at the old metal factory. I have seen the centre since on several occasions, the last with Father in May 2007 when we had coffee opposite the park at a cafe with Ranka and two of her university friends. Ann and I stopped here and went to try to find the old city centre but frankly there is not much to see other than the beautiful orthodox church and the Republic Srpska building with its two statues of peasant workers from the pre WWII period. The man is carrying a chain flail and the woman a scythe. Apart from the costume which could be from almost anywhere in Dalmatia, it rather reflects the present day existence of those who live in country areas still. 

From Banja Luka we went to Mrkonjic Grad and had a coffee in the square before doing the last hour and a half stretch over the mountains to the Glamoc valley, which, for those of you who don't know is a pretty flat mountain plateau about 20 miles long and 10 wide 1000metres above sea level. It used to be a prehistoric seabed and has very fertile sandy soil in which they used to grow masses of Glamoc potatoes, a specific and very popular variety which served most of the old Yugoslavia with spuds. They also grew barley for beer (“Pivo”) and plums for brandy which they distil themselves (Slivovica or “Slivo” which is like a slightly fruit tasting rocket fuel) 

Ann and M shelling peas + Ranka 

Jefto (grandad) and Ranka

Parked up in Sumnjajce village

Spit roasted sheep

Ann and Ranka

It was the first time Ann had been with me to meet the people I have known for the last 12 years here. Quite a strain but she carried it off well and they all loved her. I think she got a bit sick of all the, now rather tiresome, doc legends, but I suppose that having been visiting for so long and making such firm friendships despite the circumstances of our meeting, I have become somewhat of an enigma in the valley, especially since there are so few visitors from outside, and almost no tourists at all here ever, unless they have got lost! Too much of the four days really was spent just chilling and chatting. Plenty of Slivo and smokes and eating very well with fresh bread, fresh from the garden peas and beans and onions and tomatoes, with smoked pig ( Proscuito), chicken and on one occasion the celebratory spit roasted sheep. The family are just so welcoming and of course it is a delight to have R who translates for us and is now in her penultimate year at Banja Luka University studying law. 

Arzija, Ann and Baba in Dulicani

Macabre  or what!

On Sunday we went to visit A, in Dulicani, a village nearby. A was the laundry lady for the soldiers I was with in Glamoc and we have been friends since. Sadly her dad had died since I last visited, but then so many of the old folk I first knew here have now died and there are only a handful of them left. After we left A, we went to the orthodox monastery as I wanted to get the resident priest to show Ann the crypt where there are hundreds of bones all stored in cardboard boxes....remnants from a mass grave that was dug up of victims of about 2000 people massacred by the Ustazi, the WWII Croation SS.  

The catacombs Jajce

The powder tower Jajce castle
Note students variably working !

Ann and I went to Jajce on Monday, a UNESCO Heritage site, to see the old city and went to the castle where we met a very pleasant lady Professor from Belgrade who was there with summer students doing some archaeological digging. There is an old powder store there over which a mosque was built though never used. The view is excellent of the surrounding town and the ruined monastery. There are also some ancient Christian catacombs there dug into the rock which contain a very ancient secret church. This was used by a wealthy land owner also, later, to use as a mausoleum though he has long since disappeared and the tombs are empty. A foot under would be enough for my ashes, but 60 feet is going a bit much, especially in a damp cold old rock I think!  Better to push up a few daisies or a tree!  Finally we went to see the great waterfall where the Vrbas river falls 150feet from the town into the gorge below. 

OK so mostly us and
not much waterfall!

Can't see the bottom without
leaning over too far!

Auto Praona at work

On Ranka's finger

On Ann's camera

The road back  from the lodge

On Tuesday 20^th, Z had arranged to borrow their neighbour's old Lada Riva to take us up a mountain trail about 6km to a newly restored hunters' lodge in the mountains. This was destroyed by the Croatian Army in the wars but has now been re-built. This was a trip and a half! At the end of the dirt road where they live, Z stopped and took out a wheel brace. He got out and tightened the wheel nuts on each front wheel as the wheels were rather loose! They only had 2 of the 4 nuts anyway!. We then turned off on a track which was part cart and part tank tracks. After about 2 miles he slowed up and slopped. The radiator was boiling. On opening the bonnet, the fan was not working and the water had all boiled away. He phoned the neighbour who said he would come in his second Lada ( the best one). It was hot but the country side was lovely and we were surrounded by wonderful mountain flowers and myriads of butterflies which we took much pleasure in watching and photographing. After about 40 minutes, N turned up in his best Lada complete with wires for connecting the fan directly to the battery, and more water to fill us up, so we duly re-started. It has to be said, this road would have been a bit of a challenge or many 4x4s, but the little Lada plodded on over rocks, potholes, mud and grassy heathland until we finally came to the lodge, miles from anywhere under the shadow of a small forested hill on the side of the mountain. The lodge was very basic, but there were two people already there, a local Glamoc girl who had moved to Australia 19 years ago and her local boyfriend. who she was visiting. ( Perfect love nest!) They made us very welcome and shared their drinks with us. We saw again the magnificent and abundant wildflowers and a large variety of butterflies and tried to picture some. As we were about to leave it clouded over very fast and then started a big thunderstorm with spectacular lightening and we just made it back to the Lada as it started. Next problem is that only one windscreen wiper worked on intermittent(very!) and we soon found also that it had no lights! Non the less, back across this rough terrain, with water evrywhere and the screen misting while I wiped it with a cloth, we made it back after a super and very amusing trip.

Mostar bridge

Mostar souks

On the Wednesday, the family and I were sorry to say goodbye, but we left with the usual requests to come again next year, and headed to Livno to see N. After coffee with her there we departed for Mostar.  Mostar, another heritage site has a beautiful old centre which dates from Ottoman empire times.  It is one of the Muslim cities in Bosnia Hercegovina. I had seen it with Father but wanted to take Ann to see the magnificent bridge which was destroyed in the war and has been rebuilt in its original form. We wandered about in the late afternoon and had enough time to see all the small area including a super old Ottoman Turkish house where there were two wild tortoises having it away in the courtyard.

He obviously fancies big ladies!

We had a super seafood dish in a local reataurant in the old town and went backto stay in the Hotel Mostar where it was extremely hot and humid. The following day I discovered the air conditioning worked by what I thought was the TV remote control
.

Beach at Zaostrog

Stefan, Vanja, Al and Sanja and
Uma and Neo and Ann

On her back again!

Zaostrog cove

Because we had seen all that there is really to see in Mostar the day we arrived, we left and headed directly to the coast to Zaostrog where Al and Sanja have their apartment with her parents. They had invited us to stay for a few days. Zaostrog is in Croatia on the Adriatic coast. A very full little place with a stoney beach that is absolutely packed but it has a lovely atmosphere and beautiful sea with bars and cafes on the shore. Sanja's dad is a professor of sport and was determined to get Ann swimming, which was actually successful and although previously she had only swam a width he gave her two successive days personal tuition and had her floating on her back, getting her head and face underwater and swimming 50 metres plus out of her depth which was amazing and I was very proud that she made such an effort at it even though frightened at first. We had a super two days at Zoastrog and got quite burned as well as feeling very chilled out. The family were extraordinarily welcoming and it was a bit of a wrench to get back to reality and move on to Dubrovnic. 

Placa Stradun, Dubrovnic main street

Side street

City guards

We left for there on Sunday morning about noon and it was only 70 miles down the lovely Adriatic coast road. It was a nightmare trying to find a hotel though. We eventually managed though it was far from what I had hoped for for the last few days together. 
Anyway, in the event it sufficed as 

St Blaise's church

Franciscan cloisters

we were out all the time and only returned for sleep and breakfast. Dubrovnic was all it is cracked up to be. Quite seriously it is one of the most amazing and magical cities I have ever visited and I am sure that it is close with Venice and Amsterdam as one of my absolute favourites. The pavements are marble. The walls limestone and granite. 

Interior Franciscan church

Onofrio's fountain

It is certainly the most stunning fortress ever, and despite the huge impact that the 1991 Balkan war had on it when Serbia and Montenegro heavily attacked it by air and sea and much of it was seriously damaged, the restoration is virtually complete and fortunately this wonderful place is virtually fully restored.. All I will say here is that Dubrovnic should rank near the top on one of the cities to visit before you die! Otherwise I could write a whole page or two on the things we saw there.

Racic Mausoleum

From Dubrovnic, we headed south to stay at a small township on the coast called Cavtat. (pronounced Savtat). We took an apartment there for three nights which was excellent except that we had only cold water ( because we did not realise until the day Ann left that one of the seeming light switches turned on the water heater!.....lesson here...whenever in a new place play with all the switches and control units even if you think you don't need them!)) Cavtat is on a small peninsula and has a wonderful mausoleum on the hill cemetery built by a man named M---------- for the Racic family, a local very wealthy family. The daughter Marija fell in love with this man, even though both of them were married. He was an architect and she asked him to show his love by designing a tomb for her!  Sadly she and her brother  aged 35 and 27 respectively, and father all died with the Spanish flu in 1919 and their mother died the year after, so with the equivalent of 200,000 pounds then the mausoleum was designed and built and is the most gorgeous art deco building with superb 1920's statuary inside. 

Add caption

The old harbour at Cavtatstill receives many of the people who they would have liked to aquaint with...the huge private yachts are just the thing of oil barons, mafia bosses and porn stars. They came from various places including Gibraltar, the Caribbean, Jamaica and the Florida coast. One US one even had it's own garage in the stern with a massive US registered Mercedes alongside the speedboat tender.

Portraits of the Artist and
his wife.

Highlight of Cavtat however was much more rewarding. We found the home of a native artist named Bucovac....Just magnificent. The gallery of his work was wonderful and we both loved it. His history and rise to fame

Jessica his daughter

was a story in itself, but although he had studied in San Francisco, Paris and Venice, and was a professsor of fine art in Zagreb, when the Communists took over they suppresssed him and his works and it is only recently that this amazing man and his work has started to re-surface.  




(Elaine.....check it out on the web....you'll love him!)

Castle at Hercog Novi

Hercog Novi old town

On Wednesday, the day before Ann left, we had decided to visit Hercog Novi, in Montenegro, some 20 miles down the coast. The Customs post was tediously officious with long queues but we eventually arrived in some cloud which soon turned to rain. I had a slow puncture in the front tyre so had to find a repairer. He actually made a spanner for the large hex key that tightens the front wheel....extraordinary. They found a small leak on the rim. While it was being repaied we wandered down into the local town area. Then the heavens opened. We spent some time sheltering under trees until they started to leak too much and finally went to shelter in the dining tent of what seemed to be a summer school camp in the grounds of an old delapidated hotel. I don't know what they thought of these two elderly foreigners wading in but quite frankly it was too damn wet to be concerned about it. Eventually we returned to collect the bike, all sorted out for 30 euros including the making of the tools! And then we went to find the old town of Hercog Novi. Quite nice but a real anti climax after Dubrovnic as anywhere would have been. It is all on a very step hillside with steps all over and actually it was quite a strain on both our knees which we really didn't need. The castle was quite interesting and the town quite pleasant but after the rain, the long wait for the puncture repair and the journey it was all a bit of a wash out and hence we returned to Cavtat where Ann and I spent our last night together before she flew home in the morning. I returned to the apartment for that day and night and caught up a bit with photo  labelling and starting the blog, although I was not looking forward to the long haul ahead now on my own again. I nearly turned round to come back but.... I haven't, so next time Albania and Macedonia.......

On my own again. At the Bay of Kotor
Check next blog....Doc

Best wishes, Doc.








P.S.  Sorry, I am having difficulty laying this out...the pics seem to turn up all over the place so although it's all there it's a bit higgledy-piggledy.