On the road again

On monday, the last day I had my little recovery apartment, I had my last appointment at the hospital to pick up my test results. The hours before were spent packing, cleaning, and walking around Ohrid. During that walk towards and through the old town I noticed how little I had seen of the city as a result of my stomach bug. I cycled through the city ten days ago, as I made my way towards the first apartment I had booked, but I did not notice the splendor of that old town at all. It is situated on a hill, overlooking the mountains that surround and contain Ohrid lake.

I crisscrossed through the streets, rested here and there, and took in the sights. There are the small remnants of an old (Roman?) theater, many picturesque alleyways, cafes, churches, and an early Christian basilisk like I've never seen one before. Time went by quickly and before I knew it it was time to head back to the hospital.

I stopped at a burek-place (don't know how to translate that one) to get, you guessed it, one of my final bureks with yoghurt. They were a nice near-daily ritual for the past couple of weeks, and with my appetite fully returned, I happily continued the ritual.

The hospital visit was short. I had to wait for quite a while before getting an appointmemt. Chance would have it that there was an elderly Dutch couple waiting as well. So I talked with them for a while. Before long they were talking of their many airplane-facilitated holidays to far-away countries, accompanied by a smile and the Dutchism "ja, we nemen het er wel van". I know its not a rational thing, they're not the sole and instantaneous cause of all the current environmental tragedies in the world, but I silently got angry at them, and likely more angry than if they weren't so old. The whole meeting and my inner reaction gave me something to think about the coming days. Shortly thereafter I got called into the doctor's office by the nurse. The results from my blood test indicated I had indeed been sick, and no pathogen could be identified from my stool sample. So the doctor, after confirming I felt better and ate well, punched some data into her computer and sent me along my way without a bill. She did ask me about my upcoming plans, and upon learning that I traveled by bicycle excitedly told me she traveled to work on her bicycle. Additionally she took that chance to chastice one of the present nurses because she made her 10-minute commute using a car, the latter responding with rather theatrical laughter that clearly indicated she did not enjoy the remark. I left smiling at the whole display, picked up my bike back at the apartment and finally, after 10 days, continued my bicycle journey.

Over the mountains

The road on the eastern side of lake Ohrid started out a bit busy, but the further away I got from Ohrid the calmer it got. All the way I had a nice view of the lake, tiny villages along its shores and their adjacent hills, and the mountains in the distance.

At Trpejca the road curved away from the lake and into the mountains. I was a bit hesitant climbing on the first day, but was quickly calmed by the gentle gradients and my trustworthy legs, mostly unharmed by the past week's illness. Somewhere near the top large serpentines wrapped themselves around a generous amount of reasonably flat-topped hills. When I found a little spring nearby the conditions were perfect for a camping spot. To my surprise I also had a view over the lake, the mountains and the setting sun. While the sun was still high in the sky I settled into my chair and could see a hundred shades of blue in front of me. The mountains receiving their blue shade from the atmosphere between those distant peaks and my vantage point, the sky with a couple of clouds here and there, and the water of the lake coloured slightly differently in places due to the various currents and wakes rippling over its surface. As the sun lowered in the sky an orange and pink glow graced the skies, but the full glory of the sunset would stay obscured by the mountains.

After a good night's sleep in the tent I made the last little climb, and then made the flowing descent towards Prespa lake. It was just a magnificent a sight as the ascent away from Ohrid.

Through Bitola

On the way down I encountered a Dutch couple cycling from Istanbul to Durres. They were approaching 70, had been cycling for over 50 years, and had no intentions of stopping anytime soon. I asked them for tips in order to get into Istanbul on the calmest roads possible, and we talked about my first trip, their fourth, in the Balkans. We both observed that the culinary specialties, actually most restaurant menus for that manner, contain meat. Prompting them to talk about how they're trying to eat less meat and tend to travel by train these days, and with those words the small loss in hope from hearing about the holidays from the elderly couple in the hospital was being restored. The rest of the conversation wasn't too long. There were quite a rediculous amount of flies swarming our heads (the couple had small leafy branches lying on their handlebarbag, serving as makeshift flybanishing scepters by waving them around their faces), so we continued on our routes.

A bit later I nearly picked up such a branch myself. When you're traveling at reasonable speeds the flies can't keep up, but I had to cycle up a small hill for fourty minutes, giving them ample time to gather in the hundreds around my head as I made my slow ascent. I met another French cyclist, 66 years old, and had another quick conversation a bit later with a German woman heading back home from Istanbul. I left her with even more advice about nice routes into Istanbul, and potentially a nice place to stay near that city in a kind of hostel for cyclists. Sometimes you don't see fellow cyclists for a month, then you meet four in the span of an hour or two.

The road to Bitola was a cyclist's dream, it was the old road, a new highway was built next to it, and it saw nearly no motorised traffic at all. Additionally it sloped slightly downward towards Bitola, guiding me there at a nice 30 kilometers per hour. In Bitola it was time to spend my remaining Denars, so I visited a supermarket, had more Burek, and sat down at a cafe for a comfortable hour.

Over the border

After leaving Bitola I took a southward bound local road, parallel to the highway that crosses into the Greek border, but removed by 5 kilometers. Those kilometers would be traversed in unpaved fashion as I neared the border. I took one last look at the mountains of North-Macedonia, and realised I would be saying goodbye to my little adventure in the Balkans. It has been a lot of mountains, a lot of pretty sights, and very nice peoples. Somewhere in Bosnia I said I wouldn't be able to understand the many identities that exist in all these countries even if I would be spending many months here. I suppose that is not entirely true. I have certainly gotten an initial taste of the groups of people that call this part of the world home, mostly due to spending quality time, or just having friendly chance encounters, with people in Bosnia and Herzegovina, Montenegro, Albania and Kosovo. I've promised myself to read a couple of books covering the history of the places I've traveled through, but that will have to wait a couple of months. For now it feels like I've closed a chapter on my journey, and have started a new one.

The border crossing was quick and easy. Only weird thing was the Greek border security asking me about my plans in Greece in a rather confrontational manner, an experience I had at the border with Macedonia as well. Part of me wants to know what happens if you tell truthfully that you have no idea where you're headed, as I'm rerouting every couple of days, but I suppose I'll just keep yelling the first destination I had in mind. So my answer was just that: I'm heading to Drama. I picked that place because it sounded funny.

After crossing the border I quickly found a nice field to camp in. Not a perfect wildcamping spot, but I couldn't complain, as its not easy finding a place to rest in lands with an agricultural purpose. The coming days I'll head through Thesaloniki, towards Drama, and I have a vague idea of following the coast towards Istanbul afterwards. We'll see!