Day 4 and 5 - Ohrid

Battling sleepiness, we somehow made it from our "luxury" apartment to the Skopje Bus Station in time for the 07:00 to Ohrid. There were some fairly terrifying drops from bridges and mountain roads, but Delfina Tours got us there safely - would recommend to a friend.

We had a few hours in Ohrid before we could check in to the hotel, so we made for a local supermarket to get some much needed comfort food and drinks which we had down at the lake front. Lake Ohrid was gorgeous, surrounded by mountains and incredibly relaxing - especially compared to the cities we'd been to before. The lake front near the town centre is busy with local boatmen who will take you on a quick tour around the lake for a few euros - it was here that we first encountered Ricardo, a retirement age captain who spent 30 minutes chatting to us about England. More on him later.

After leaving Ricardo, we went for breakfast at a pretty nice hotel on the lakefront - lots of food, nice cappuccino, and final price of £3.72 for both of us. We are slightly in love with Macedonia.

Having checked into our hotel, where we'd been given a top floor room with a rather nice balcony (could get used to this), we tried to go back to out for an explore without rucksacks. Unfortunately, just as we'd left the front door, thunderstorm number two of the trip struck with a vengeance. We were absolutely soaked within ten steps, so decided to run back inside - much to the amusement on the Dutch couple watching the storm from their balcony.

We waited until it got less stormy, then walked along the front to a restaurant to have dinner. Unfortunately, we couldn't out walk the second wave of the storm and arrived through the restaurant doors looking like we'd been for a swim in the Lake. We sat with our food and Macedonian wine and watched the storm across the lake. That was the last action of the day, as we wandered back along the front (via the jetty for some photos) and headed back to the hotel. Clothes were washed unceremoniously in the sink, followed by sleep.

Day 2 in Ohrid brought much excitement, because it was our first full day of the trip without buses. However, in the midst of the excitement, a bathroom mishap which has been nicknamed "The Chincident" occurred. M was sat on the balcony when he heard a loud thud, followed a few seconds later by sobs. The thud, it transpired, was L slipping over and smashing her chin on the floor. L described the Chincident as "genuinely quite traumatic", and now finds herself "terrified" of showers. The bruise on her chin would seem to justify this fear. Chin aside, L is actually fine - don't rush across on a rescue mission just yet.

Despite all this excitement, we still had exploring to do - so we headed off to find some breakfast which we could eat in the grounds of St Joan, a clifftop church which is in all the Ohrid postcards. Armed with breakfast Burek (pastry stuffed with meat or cheese), we wound our way through the old town and along some cute wooden walkways over the water before arriving at the church. The view was, as expected, spectacular.

After breakfast on the cliffs, we continued walking up the hill towards the fortress. On the way, we passed a massive building site - we were disappointed that it looked like they were building a hotel so close to all the famous old buildings, but later research showed that it's actually going to be an archaeological research centre. Not so bad then. The fortress was worth the trek - cheap entry and more great views. We made our way back down to the town via an amphitheatre, attempting to find an old famous church en route. We found plenty of other churches, but the church remained elusive.

The afternoon was spent in the Old Bazaar, before we headed to a local restaurant near our hotel for dinner. It was ranked as #1 on TripAdvisor, and it was a brilliant if slightly bizarre experience. The menu had vague, amusing English translations, but it was still a risk as none of the dishes were described. Still full of Burek (which we'd also had for lunch), L went for a "Macedonian Salad", whilst M opted for "Meet (sic) in Pottery". The waiter didn't speak much English, so asking for more details on the dishes would have been pointless - we just had to wait and see what we'd end up with.

When reading the following, bear in mind that the entire meal cost £7 for two of us. The first thing to be brought out was an entire loaf of sliced bread with spices and salsa sauce. This was followed swiftly by a bowl of sliced tomato, onion and olives which L (a passionate hater of tomatoes) hoped wasn't her Macedonian salad. Thankfully, L's salad arrived shortly after and was much more to her taste. M's Meet Pottery arrived next, in a massive clay bowl - accompanied with another giant plate of salad which we assumed came with M's meal. We thanked the waiter, who said he'd be back soon with our "pomme frites" - we didn't think we'd ordered any, and we started thinking that the food would never stop coming. The chips were, however, the final offering - bar some ketchup which was in a teddy bear shaped container. It was a ridiculous, hilarious experience - which we shared with "skinny cat." Skinny cat kept getting chased away by the waiter, but always returned to our table to beg for food.

With the meal done, we headed back into town to take some photos of Ohrid at night. On the way, we followed what we thought was the sound of very loud ducks, but which actually turned out to be noisy frogs. We were trying to get a glimpse of the frogs, when our old friend Ricardo recognised us from the day before. This time, we spent 45 minutes (seriously) listening to Ricardo's life story - specifically his love for rock and roll, which he insisted on demonstrating through the medium of dance. It turns out Ricardo is an Elvis fan and impersonator, who is "95% the same as Elvis" with musical inspiration sent from above. His talents had apparently made him the "number one man" in the town, and possibly Macedonia - although he did moan slightly that his fame meant that everyone stops him on the street, and he'd even had a Canadian film crew follow his life for six weeks.

Delighted to have been lucky enough to meet one of Ohrid's local legends and see him perform his dances exclusively for us, we left for the hotel with a spring in our step that Elvis, and Ricardo, would have been proud of. Time for one final sleep in Macedonia before our early bus back to Skopje and on to Pristina, the capital of Kosovo.

Day 3 - Skopje

First and foremost, let's get the night bus out of the way. This was pretty much our attitude at the time, as they're rarely a relaxing experience and never result in a good night's sleep. The night bus to Skopje was scheduled to take six and a half hours, but when the dreaded minibus parked in front of us, it became quickly apparent that hardly any sleep would be had. Almost all of us at some point will have had to endure a journey in an overcrowded and crumbling school minibus - think of that, but travelling from Bulgaria to Macedonia in the middle of the night. All 15 seats were taken, and there was even a woman who had to stand for the best part of an hour - to our great amusement) before getting dropped off/giving up.

As well as the dreaded border crossing, where we were frog marched off the minibus and made to stand in the freezing cold holding our baggage for inspection by guards who almost certainly got the job through their ability to wordlessly intimidate, we had to endure a couple of cigarette breaks. One of them, a mere hour and a half into the journey, managed to last for thirty minutes - with the entire minibus bar us disembarking to smoke. Needless to say, these conditions weren't conducive to decent sleep - and we weren't sure whether to be relieved or disappointed when we rocked up in Skopje three hours earlier than expected. You might not be surprised to learn that there isn't much to do at Skopje bus station at 3:30 am. Apart from gamble your next bus fare away at "Admiral Casino". Thankfully, we resisted that temptation.

We planned to leave the bus station when it got light outside. We waited and waited, commenting on how sunrise seemed to be later here than in Sofia, before L ventured round the other side of the building and discovered that we'd been looking into an underground bus bay and that it was, in fact, actually sunny. We headed towards the city centre, which was deserted at 6am bar a few stray dogs. The city centre, especially along the river front, was under construction - we were met with a series of very impressive and imposing buildings which housed government departments, museums, opera, theatre etc. They were built in a classical style which looked more like London or Vienna, but which were all brand new. Some weren't even open yet. Even the lampposts and benches were ornate, whilst the walls and bridges were punctuated by a plinth and statue of a famous Macedonian every few metres. Much to our amusement, each of these new buildings had numerous plaques with Mother Teresa's face (Skopje is her birthplace) and an accompanying quote - if there's one thing that we learnt about Skopje, it's that they absolutely love Mother Teresa.

We walked over the old stone bridge and made our way to the stadium. On the way, we passed a massive campsite in the middle of the road opposite the presidential palace, which we named Occupy Macedonia. A month before our visit, Skopje ground to a halt as thousands of people took to the streets to protest against government corruption - Occupy Macedonia is home to the remaining hardcore. We walked along the river on the way back from the stadium (which we obviously couldn't get in to), and nearly fell asleep when we sat on a bench. The night bus was beginning to take its toll, so we decided to go for coffee and breakfast at a restaurant in the square. On the way, we were followed by a stray we named "Skinny dog" - who was so relieved to find humans who see him as a novelty rather than a pest that he followed us in to the restaurant. Normal service was resumed as he was chased away by a couple of locals.

Breakfast confirmed what we'd read during our research into Macedonia. It was cheap. Incredibly cheap. Good quality scrambled eggs and fresh pesto on nice bread, and a cappuccino, in a nice restaurant bang in the middle of the city centre, for £2.20 each. Feeling temporarily refreshed, we headed to the Mother Teresa Memorial House and Chapel, a small but very interesting building dedicated to her life story, with a good collection of letters, photographs and other personal items.

After going back to the bus station to buy our tickets for tomorrow's journey to the lakeside town of Ohrid, we headed to our accommodation - Aloha Apartments - optimistically hoping we might be able to check in 45 minutes early and have a much needed nap. We couldn't see anyone around, so we wandered through the one open door we saw and asked a woman if she could help us. The welcome was frosty, as she barked "this is not the reception" before coming to the conclusion that we couldn't check in and insisting that we sit on some plastic garden chairs for an hour whilst our room is prepared.

Without boring you with the details, these were the problems when we were finally allowed in to our room: immediate power cut (toilet breaks had to be taken in complete darkness or with the door wide open), no wifi, television not working (weren't going to watch it anyway to be fair), door wouldn't lock or shut, live wires hanging from the wall, spiral staircase up to bed felt very unstable. Some were fixed, some weren't - but all we needed was a bed to nap in.

Post nap, we headed back into down - stopped for lunch at a riverside restaurant, where we waited for thirty minutes for the waiter to come back and take our food order before realising that we said "yes" when he asked "just drinks?". Oops. When food came, it was in massive portions and once again an absolute bargain. Both of us were starving but neither of us could finish off our plates. Food stocks replenished, we headed to the fortress - which is up a steep hill past the old town. There, we had the pleasure of following a couple around the walls who insisted on taking the most ridiculously posy photos we've ever seen every few steps. Needless to say, the walk around the walls took a while. There were also countless wedding photo shoots taking place around the fortress and the riverfront.

On the way down from the fortress, dehydration had got the better of us - especially M - and so we decided an emergency drink stop (and preferably toilet break) was in order. The lack of public toilets in the centre was incredible, so we were forced to trek to a shopping centre near our accommodation. By this point, it was getting late - Skopje's sights had been seen and so we accepted defeat, limping back to our "luxury apartment" for an in room picnic dinner and hopefully a decent amount of sleep before our 07:00 bus to Ohrid.

Day 2 - Lenin, Lodka, and Lots of Churches

Day 2 arrived, and we checked out mid-morning after a well needed lie in (until 8am). The storm had long since gone, but the threat of rain was still there as we donned our rucksacks and headed out for a full day in Sofia. First item on the agenda was to get our bus tickets for our journey to down to Macedonia's capital, Skopje. The bus left at midnight, and our attitude at 10am was very much "bring it on."

The bus station offered us, and more specifically M, the chance to try out newly learned Bulgarian knowledge. The first person to have the pleasure of hearing it, apart from a "Good morning, how are you?" conversation with the nice lady who checked us out of our room, was the bus ticket saleswoman. With a little help from a pen and paper to write down numbers and dates, M successfully managed to secure our seats on the bus - and celebrated by ordering "Lodka" from a food stall outside the station - a Bulgarian "delicacy" of sausage on pastry covered with melted cheese. It cost 36p.

On the way back , more food was bought - this time from a fun local supermarket. L was much more successful in choosing edible food this time, with her spinach-filled pastry a much better shout than M's mystery purchase which turned out to be bread stuffed with yoghurt. On the way to find a nice place to sit and eat these snacks, it started to rain. Quite a lot. It got bad enough that we gave up and sheltered under a balcony where we ate our snacks and planned the route for the rest of the day.

Sofia is a pretty large city, and the main sights are spread out over a large distance. Most of the day was spent walking between these attractions. A good proportion were places of worship - big churches, small churches, a Mosque and a cathedral which all had their own history and definitely worth a look around. M gets excited whenever he sees a stadium on the map, and we headed there (about a 25 minute walk from the center) next. We weren't sure if we were allowed inside, and so followed a mother and her children through the only open gate into the stadium we could find - unfortunately, we were stopped by a fairly grumpy woman who shattered the illusion that we had been making progress with our Bulgarian by hissing "No Visit" and ushering us out. We later discovered we'd been trying to gain access to the on-site sport centre's children's changing rooms, so it's really no wonder that two childless adults clutching cameras were given such a cold reception.

On the way back to the center, the weather took a turn for the worse - and we took a wrong turn. After accidentally stumbling across the stadium belonging to Sofia's other football club, we discovered we'd been going in completely the wrong direction and ended up sheltering under an abandoned Coca Cola stand under the curious gaze of the local stray dogs. When the rain stopped, we decided to bite the bullet and cough up the 35p for the metro back into the middle, where we found a pizza stand with plenty of covered seating where we had our lunch and decided on our next plan of action. We still had 8 hours left in Sofia, but felt we had pretty much seen all the main sights. However, something caught our eye on the guide we'd picked up - the museum of socialist art. It taking the metro back beyond the stadium, but we had time to kill, so off we went.

It cost a little to get in (€6 each) but it was well worth it - especially for the impressive collection of statues in the garden outside. The area around it was classic Eastern Europe with massive apartment blocks and concrete architecture, so it was like taking a step back in time. After saying hello to Stalin, Marx, and Lenin (who even posed for a selfie), we headed back to relax, sit, and people watch in the square by the Mosque before heading off to the bus station.

Perhaps the most interesting thing we noticed whilst sitting on our bench in the square were the hoards of people who were taking giant containers by the car load to a collection of fountains - we wondered if there was something wrong with the plumbing in the city which left houses without running water. After closer inspection and, with a little help from our guide to Cyrillic symbols, we discovered the taps were running with perfectly drinkable mineral water. Sofia seems to be built on a natural spring, which would explain why the Romans chose to build a settlement here (the ruins are all over the city, even infused into one of the metro stations), and this spring water is free for anyone who wants/needs it.

With that mystery solved, it was back up the hill to the bus station. The main bus station building in Sofia is surprisingly modern and has good facilities. The same cannot be said for the rest of the train/bus station complex - a crumbling relic from the communist era, whose abundant abandoned spaces seem to have become one giant public urinal. It's fascinating to look around, but not somewhere you'd want to hang out - particularly the section below street level. Sensibly, we chose to hang out in the main bus station and enjoyed a romantic meal to rival the previous evening's Big Macs - kebab skewers and potato wedges on a balcony overlooking the bus stops and a large power station further in the distance. After finishing our meal, there was a fair bit of waiting around until our midnight bus - and the lots of the discussion revolved around whether it would be comfortable enough to get some decent sleep on the 5/6 hour journey to Skopje. Having experienced some decent night buses in the past, we were both fairly hopeful - and M even dared to tempt fate when, with the bus due any minute, he saw a minibus drive around the corner and joked that it was probably ours. Of course, it was.

Sofia Day 1 - Two Big Macs for two confused travellers

Ladies and gentlemen, we have arrived in Sofia. After a fairly noneventful flight, avoiding the thunderstorms which M was convinced were a certainty, we landed at Sofia airport. The chaotic scenes at passport control, in which nobody - passenger or airport staff - seemed to grasp the concept of queuing, were a helpful reminder that we had left the organised fun of the UK. Little did we know, they would also be a sign of things to come.

We got our bus tickets with relative ease (£0.36 each) and made it in to the centre of Sofia - after some aimless wandering around, we stumbled upon the metro and were finally able to pinpoint a route to our guesthouse. However - despite finding ourselves on the right street, we still couldn't locate it until we finally realised that what looked from the outside like a condemned building would actually be our home for the night. After climbing a dark set of staircases to the top floor and accidentally wandering through an open door into someone's private apartment, we found the guesthouse doorbell and discovered that it was actually quite nice inside.

By the time we'd sorted out payment and checked our room out, it was nearing 9pm local time. We were both pretty hungry, so we set off in search of food. We learnt a lot about Sofia on this first evening wander. Firstly, it smells. It smells really bad - sort of like a bin that hasn't been emptied for weeks. The reasons for this are unclear, but we're pretty sure the smell was strongest nearest drain covers. Secondly, there are lots of drain covers, manholes, potholes, and any other sort of hole in the ground you can think of - seriously, they're everywhere. Some of them have seemingly collapsed in on themselves, so you need to keep an eye out if you don't want to end up underground. Finally, there is nowhere to eat in the evenings. The few restaurants we found that were still open at 9:30 - hardly late - were either packed full, or had no indication as to menu or price (at least, not in a Latin alphabet).

We were tired and hungry, and unfortunately left with no choice - our first dinner of the trip was a Big Mac meal each, minus the chips which don't seem to be part of the deal here. Hmph. Feeling like we'd let the travelling world down by resorting to McDonald's so soon, we were at least lucky with the location - al fresco dining with a view across the road to the main square and mosque.

 It was all quite picturesque, until the thunderstorms which M had been worried about finally showed up. The lightening was pretty spectacular and fun to watch whilst the stayed in the distance - but unfortunately for us, it got closer. And closer. And closer. And then, like a scene out of a low budget disaster film, the wind suddenly started blowing a gale, dust clouds raced down the street, and everyone started running. We weren't quite sure where they were running to, but we decided to join them at a more reasonable brisk walking pace. The hotel was reached and the apocalyptic scenes escaped - and only just in time. We'd barely shut the door to our room when it absolutely chucked it down. After watching the storm from the safety of our window for a few minutes, we decided to call it a night and get some sleep, with both of us dreaming of sunnier skies for tomorrow's full day in Sofia....

Four days to go!

Exams are over and, as the title suggests, it's only four days until we fly to the Balkans - the Wanderlust Weekender's debut trip! To prepare ourselves for the three weeks ahead M and L have been shopping, packing and walking with varying degrees of success.

On the shopping and packing front, it turns out that trying to pack a hand-luggage sized rucksack for three weeks of travel is actually quite difficult. Whilst L has found herself struggling to decide whether to prioritise clothes or camera (the camera won), M has had to deal with the realisation that he might only be able to fit one checked shirt into his bag - traumatic stuff, and the definition of a first world problem. In order to ensure essentials such as cameras and checked shirts can be brought along, sacrifices have had to be made in the form of underwear and socks. If anybody reading this bumps into us towards the end of the trip, may I suggest steering well clear of our feet (a tall order, I'm sure).

Buying rucksacks small enough to satisfy the "generous" hand luggage allowance on certain airlines (cough, Wizzair, cough - you're brilliant, but a 40cm long suitcase...seriously?!) has proved challenging. L struck gold with a heavily discounted hiking rucksack from Lowe Alpine which is not only practical and roomy beyond its 24l capacity but comes with the added bonus of being a pretty stylish shade of purple. 

M thought he'd made an equally savvy purchase when he found a 28l rucksack from Trespass for the bargain price of £12. Upon arrival, however, it became quickly apparent that rucksacks are an item which conform to the mantra of "you get what you pay for." To its credit, it has been tested this afternoon and will fit all of M's shirt collection with plenty of room to spare - but no amount of spare room can lessen the injustice of having to spend the first few weeks of graduate life looking like a Year 7 with an oversized backpack.

Thankfully, the Balkans don't seem like the sort of place where we will get judged for our (lack of) style. One of the only certainties is that there will be walking - and lots of it. With a maximum of two nights spent in any one city, it'll be a race against time to cover enough ground to feel like we've "done" each place. With this is mind, and to make up for the lack of walking opportunities during exams, M and L decided to tackle Yorkshire's highest and most fearsome mountain - Whernside. Standing at a formidable 736m, it's...well, not very high at all - but you can only work with what you've got. Despite there being no danger of succumbing to altitude sickness, we still had to content with blisters (M found one on his heel after 5 minutes and claims to have tiptoed the entire walk), genuine downpours, and driving horizontal hailstorms - meaning there was a reasonable sense of achievement at the end of the day, and we now feel prepared for anything the Balkans throws at us. Apart from landmines.

That's pretty much all for now - the next few days before departure will inevitably be spent packing, unpacking, repacking, depacking, uppacking, downpacking, and crying in a ball on the floor at the prospect of having one pair of underwear for each week spent away. 

Welcome to The Wanderlust Weekender

Thanks for stopping by! At some point in the hopefully not too distant future there will be writing and photos and all sorts of exciting things.