Misty Fog - Damn You Macedonia!

Uncharacteristically up bright and early this morning to escape the gravity of Berat. Home-made breakfast with berry tea followed by espresso and we were on the bus to Elbasan with the U S of A Peace Core in Kucove.

Not a place you'd expect to meet a North American however in the space of less than 15 hrs we found ourselves chatting with two - you'd think North America was big enough to keep all us NA's contained and segregated from the rest of the world, to spare much anguish for all, but it just proves NA's borders are not water tight enough to spare all you poor bastards who must endure the NA traveller.

The first was a fellow Canadian girl from Manitoba who was dating an Albanian (she definitely wore the trousers in that relationship but he had the looks - and less facial hair - for sure) and the second was a Peace Core volunteer from Minnesota - I had my suspicions there was a Yank in my midst while eyeing the bus over my express. Refreshingly our very own volunteer turned out to be more interesting than your average American, amongst other important attributes - and I'm not saying any more on that subject as it would only give the wrong impression - only to say we found ourselves in and across Elbasan, fed, watered (both of the alcoholic kind and of the godly kind - it was like a biblical scene of rain and rivers out there! I kept a look our for Noah but he must have been frantically finishing up on his great ship) and we were on a bus to Korca in record time, allegedly closing in on the Macedonian border.

Elbasan is a museum piece of socialist industrial optimism and I would normally have liked to stick around for a while to wallow in the bygone era but we had a timetable to keep. Although now little remains of the industrial might with much of the approach into the city through acres and acres of decaying industry - I imagine the now failed social experiment of the communist Albania, its picturesque industrial landscapes, armies of workers working for the benefit of their homeland and all its peoples - and I morn the failed experiment, for it's victims and the promises of communism lost forever.

The approach through the mountains to the border crossing at Lake Ohrid brought yet more rain. The communities on the approach into the mountains seemed to worship water, sprouting from hosepipes at the side of the road, streams that gushed alongside the winding roads, roadside stores using water to cool its refreshments and create cascading waterfalls as fluid windows, provide drinking water and service the facilities at the much craved and well deserved comfort break.

At the highest reach of the mountain, in a cloud of fog and drizzle we were unceremoniously unloaded from out minibus and into a dirt and gravel layby marked only by its impressively and surprisingly bland socialist monument (for which I regret not taking the time to get a picture - although the frigid cold, rain and negotiations for the border crossing kept my attention elsewhere. I thought we did a fair job at the negotiations but on handing over the final figure I was dismayed to witness 33% of our fee taken in commission by the negotiator and us transferred into a third vehicle for the final approach and entry to Macedonia.

After an uneventful border crossing and finding ourselves at lower elevations the sun came out, the clouds all but disappeared and we were driving the shores of Lake Ohrid... a sobering event for me, given its unwelcome civility and neatly planned pedestrian streets, cafes and manicured foliage - If I had wanted comforts and conformity I would have stayed in London! I was quickly rewarded though and my misgivings corrected when our first stop for an espresso (I'm slowly turning into a coffee junkie with Mr Francis around), with the 50 something owner's perfectly polyester jogging suit in splendid sky blue, Adidas shoes, a large bald head and big goofy yet friendly grin...

A quick strut around Ohrid and after several refusals we finally caved in to Saint Naum, who is shockingly one year my juniour but looked ten years my senior - Saintly status wasnt helping him in the looks department (yea I know, I'm a shallow girly bitch, get over it!), but getting back to my deeper humanity he was another one of those do anything individuals you meet on your travels who set us up in our very own socialist party issued studio apartment complete with a two ringed stove, satellite TV and a fan heater the size of a argur (sp?) - heating!!!! Setting me up for my first nigh with warm feet since leaving London :)

High with the thought of warm feet and clean underwear we were only to be dissapointed just minutes after settling in when we discovered the border guards had confiscated our moonshine! DAMN YOU MACEDONIA!

In need of some higher power to restore my faith in mankind tomorrow is church day. If I'm feeling generous, tomorrow I will tell you a little about my new best friend, with the milk bottom glasses, from Barat - who hasnt yet had a mention yet, but whom will forever be in my memories.

Yet to come...
Backgammon on pharmaceuticals
Viva la Vincini
Hotel Tutto, the 15,000 sq ft hotel with only seven rooms
Monastic interlude, Baptise the sinner! Gay icons, Oh, and Ben the sex slave to Sweaty Jovan - last I saw of him he had a smile on his face
Debar, oh how we loved Debar
The psychedelic Art Hostel
Quebecois speed junkies in Skopje
Free running socialists
Pickpockets fuck off!
7 o'clock curfew
Viva Kosovo the youngest country in the world- and its very fine chinese food

Night night kiddie winkies.