Wednesday, 31 March 2010

 

Start: Bitola (MK) 09:40

Arrival: Ohrid (MK) 15:00

Total: 163 km

 

 

 

 

The next day we awoke early and nearly frozen. How can it possibly be so cold in a room? We quickly got up and went downstairs for breakfast. The old man from the night before (him of 1001-nights fame) was sitting on his chair, his eyes riveted to the TV screen. Only now he was watching the news. Again we were the only customers in the restaurant. He brought us breakfast, only to quickly return to his programme. We almost felt guilty for interrupting him.

 

The breakfast was a down-to-earth affair of coffee, white bread, ham and cheese, butter, honey and jam. Nothing fancy, but the coffee was strong and tasty, and the food filled our bellies. We were ready to face another day. Sonia put our bags into the car while I waited at the reception desk. No-one seemed to be in a hurry to accept our money or the room key. I wandered back into the restaurant, looking for someone to force my cash onto. Finally, the old man took pity on me and limped into the reception hall. I handed him the key and the money and he gave me our passports with the filled-in forms for the border police and carefully wrote a receipt for me. Fifty euros for the room, that was really a bargain! He wished us a good trip and shuffled back to the telly.

 

We drove down the road to the entrance of the national park. There we stopped to take a quick picture of the mountain. We had just got back into the car, when a vehicle approached from behind and stopped next to us. Now what? Alright, we weren’t supposed to park here, but we were not really bothering anyone, were we? The car’s window rolled down. An angry Macedonian, out to give us a piece of his mind? No, it was the old man from our hotel! He waved cheerfully and asked if we needed help with directions. We explained that we had only taken a picture of the scenery. Reassured about his guests’ welfare, he small-talked some more, wished us a good day and drove on. Wow, away from his TV screen, that guy was actually really friendly!

 

 

 

The sun was shining with the promise of another warm day. After yesterday’s positive experience with Macedonian roads, we decided not to drive directly to Ohrid, but to make a detour and visit Sveti Naum monastery. We quickly reached Resen and made a left onto a minor road along the north shore of Lake Prespa. At one point, the road went steeply downhill and the asphalt gave way to beautiful but rather bumpy old pavement stones. A remnant of the Roman Via Egnatia? Further on, road workers were busy repairing the street, but again they used these quaint, rather old-fashioned stones. Neat, somehow. It doesn’t make for fast driving, but such road surfaces have definitely more style than a load of bitumen. After a while, the pavement was again replaced by ordinary tarmac and we made good progress along Lake Prespa.

 

Later, the road led uphill through beautiful woodland. Just behind a hairpin turn, a large truck barred our way. I tried to squeeze past, but the workers – they seemed to be doing some sort of roadwork or wood-clearing – explained that the road ahead was closed. Oh no. How were we to get to Sveti Naum then? When in doubt, ask the locals. The workers replied cheerfully: “Easy. Back to Resen. Then to Ohrid. Then along Lake Ohrid to Sveti Naum. Nema problem!” No problem indeed. It was just a detour of about 100 kilometers! We looked at our map, then gazed up the road behind the truck. Sveti Naum probably just lay a few kilometers further ahead. Should we walk there? How could they do this to us? Feeling very frustrated, we made a U-turn and meandered back towards the Via Egnatia. Luckily, we didn’t have to drive all the way back, but found another large street up to the main road to Ohrid.

 

It was still early in the day when we reached the outskirts of Ohrid and turned once again south towards Sveti Naum. This monastery better be good. The lakeshore road was in good condition and we sped past hotels and tourist villas. But even on Lake Ohrid, which functions as a sort of Macedonian Riviera, the Easter holidays seemed to be a quiet time. We paused at a deserted beach and gazed over the water. On the other side of the lake, you could make out the Albanian shoreline. To think that in barely twenty-four hours we would be in Albania! Gave you sort of a funny feeling in the stomach, a bit like in a dentist’s waiting room. We also photographed a signpost indicating that this beach was a free WIFI zone. All over Macedonia, as indeed everywhere on our holiday, we had no trouble whatsoever to stay connected. Even among the highest mountains, our cellphones had perfect reception.

 

Soon, the road climbed up and down mountains, and we found ourselves crawling behind a bus. This monastery was certainly difficult to reach! But at last, the picturesque facade of Sveti Naum appeared behind a bend. It had the feel of a real tourist trap – we hobbled along a tiny lane, to our right the beach, to our left the camping grounds and innumerable stalls selling souvenirs and religious merchandise. Most of them were still closed, but we imagined with a shudder what this place must be like during the high season. To put it mildly, I’m not a big fan of beach resorts. But summer was still far off, and the monastery grounds were blissfully quiet. Sveti Naum actually means Saint Naum in English. It is named after a contemporary of Cyril and Methodius (them of Slavic-alphabet fame), who founded the monastery in the late 9th century. Today, the place is especially well-known for its main residents: peacocks. All over the precinct, the animals wandered about unhindered, their boisterous mating calls the only sounds disturbing the calmness of the place.

 

The park around the monastery is lovingly arranged and beautifully kept in shape. I imagine that during the summer this must be a favourite wedding location. In the inner courtyard stands a small chapel, most probably the oldest part of the monastery. We visited the chapel for a small entrance fee. You are not allowed to take pictures inside, but the frescoes are awe-inspiring. They look really old and are painted in such a careful and loving style. Everywhere, worshippers had stuck money bills next to the icons. To thank the saint or beg them for assistance? Or maybe simply to thank the monastery for an inspiring spiritual experience and help them keep the buildings in shape.

 

By now it was noon, and we spotted a restaurant on the monastery grounds. It didn’t really look open and we were the only customers. But the waiter was very friendly and spoke good English. He guided us to a wood-panelled, heated room. I settled on the famous Lake Ohrid trout. Needless to say, it was delicious. Then I had a coffee and Sonia drank a hot chocolate. It was the real thing – dark, molten chocolate, not the water-and-sugar affair one usually gets. Very yummy.

 

After the meal, we explored the surroundings of Sveti Naum. The monastery lies right next to the Albanian border. We reached a fence informing us that behind this point was Albanian territory and “only authorized persons” were allowed to pass. We wondered who these “authorized persons” were, but we had a feeling they didn’t mean us. There was no-one around and we peered through the fence: a deserted trailer park stood forlornly in a meadow. Hm.

 

We put any further Albanian experiences off until tomorrow and headed back to our car. On the way to Ohrid, we got into a traffic jam of the special kind: a troop of cows trotted slowly up to us. We inched forward, careful not to hit them. Unfazed, the animals ambled past. They didn’t even give our bright yellow foreign licence plates a second glance. When the road lay empty before us once more, we speeded up and soon reached Ohrid. The plan was to first find our hotel and then wander around the town and visit some sites.

 

 

 

In the early Middle Ages, Ohrid was a cultural hub of the Balkans. The Greek monks Cyril and Methodius turned the town into a centre of learning and it was here that they invented the Cyrillic alphabet and codified the Old Slavonic language which is even nowadays used as “Old Church Slavonic”. Consequently, the town boasts many beautiful old churches, notably the church of Sveti Jovan in Kaneo which is probably the most often depicted building of Macedonia. Thanks to its beautiful location on the lake, Ohrid is nowadays a major tourist centre, and a lot of Macedonians spend their holidays here.

 

Thanks to Google, we had a very detailed map of Ohrid and we were confident to find our hotel. Sonia guided me off the main boulevard “Turisticka” towards the lake. At a red light, a man waved some flyers at us and asked me whether I was looking for accomodation. I told him we already had a hotel, thank you very much. He was undeterred. “I know a good hotel.” Oh no, a touter. The lights changed and I drove on, ignoring him. A couple of meters further, we were stuck at an automatic barrier. The street seemed to go on behind the barrier. Maybe this was a private lane? The hotel-touter had followed us and knocked on the driver’s side window. “There is a good hotel nearby,” he began, but I waved him off rather rudely. We don’t need your hotel, get it? To get rid of him, I pushed a button, collected a coin and the barrier swung open. “Make a right here,” Sonia indicated. I did, only to face a second barrier. This was fast getting annoying. “The hotel must be right up that street,” my sister said and pointed to a tiny cobblestoned lane ahead. “Are you sure?” The alley didn’t look broad enough for a car. I eyed it doubtfully. Long enough for the touter to walk up behind us. “What hotel are you looking for?” Get off my back, man! I thought feverishly about a way to get out of this trap. I put the car in reverse. “You cannot turn here,” the man tried to help. “Go through the barrier.” Why, was that where his “nice hotel” was located? But seeing that he was right, I collected another coin and the barrier swung up. By now, a young man on a motorbike had joined our new aquaintance. “They are looking for a hotel,” he explained. “What hotel, I can bring you.” He leaned closer. We were fast becoming the main attraction of the town, it seemed. I finally gave in. “Villa Kale,” I sighed. “Ah, nice hotel, I bring you. Follow me.”

 

Resigned to my fate, I turned and stood before the barrier, only this time on the other side. “Put the coin in,” he ordered, and sure enough, the barrier swung up without me having to pay anything. What kind of silly invention is this, I thought. An obstacle to better be able to chat up tourists? The bike sped back along boulevard Turisticka, up a hill and through a gate. “He’s leading us up from the other side of the hill,” Sonia said, and followed our progress with her finger on the map. As long as he’s not leading us up the garden path, I thought, picturing myself getting trapped in some souvenir shop or other. But sure enough, there was Klimentov Univerzitet Street and there to the right was our pension. Our guide grinned, got off his bike and rang the bell. The landlady opened and he had a little chat with her. They seemed to know each other. She welcomed us in and our guide climbed back onto his bike. We looked at him, puzzled. It seemed we wouldn’t get dragged into any souvenir shop after all. He turned his bike around, waved us good bye and was gone.

 

We turned to our landlady. She had a very motherly way about her and we felt immediately at ease. The pension was a small, family-run business, the house and the furniture looked brand-new. She showed us our room, which was very large with a stunning view over the town and the lake. After having brought our bags in, we set out to explore the area. As it was already late afternoon, we decided to see Sveti Jovan first. A beautiful cobblestoned path and steps took us quickly down to a promontory over the lake.

 

To our disappointment, the little church was locked. We looked around for a concierge, but there was no-one to be seen. Then a man walked up to us and addressed us in French. We explained that we wanted to see the church’s interior and he ran off to fetch the keyholder. We waited patiently. Soon the two of them came back and we paid a small entrance fee. The man accompanied us inside the church, which was really only a little chapel, but with extraordinarily beautiful old frescoes. He spoke French too, and told us about the history of the building and the paintings. It was really interesting.

 

When we came out, the other man was waiting for us. He asked whether he could bring us with his boat to the town centre. We looked at each other. I’m not one for boating, I get sea-sick when I just think about it. Besides, we wanted to visit the fortress. We declined as politely as we could. The man looked disappointed and promised to make us a good price. Now we were embarrassed. Should we let ourselves get coaxed into it? Feeling really bad about it, we declined once more and made our way up towards the fortress.

 

It was further up than we had thought. We panted up the steps, grateful that the last stretch led through a blissfully cool pine forest. Ohrid’s fortress was erected in the early 11th century by the first ruler of the Bulgarian Empire, tsar Samuil. Under his reign, the Bulgarian rule expanded over a large part of the Balkans and Ohrid was his capital. Thus, one might argue that the Bulgarian Empire would be more aptly named Macedonian Empire. During excavations, the remains of an even earlier fortification have been found, possibly built by Philip of Macedon during the 4th century before our time.

 

When we at last reached the fortress, it had just closed for the day. What a disappointment. But the view from up here was breathtaking and amply rewarded us for the climb. Another advantage of being so high up was that from now on, it was downhill all the way to the centre of Ohrid. We found a couple more little churches along the way and finally reached the pedestrian zone on the lake. You could tell that this place was geared toward tourism and we had no problem finding postcards. We sat down at a little café, ordered a piece of chocolate cake and wrote cards. Across the street there was a post-office, so we mailed them right away. That touristy duty accomplished, we strolled through the souvenir shops, but we didn’t find anything among the mass-produced tourist stuff that we liked. As it was fast getting cold and dark, we headed up our little cobblestoned alley, back to the pension.

 

It was quite a climb, but there were so many interesting things so see, from children playing on the front porch to interesting facades and stunning views over the lake, that the time passed quickly. Our pension didn’t offer breakfast, so we stopped at a little shop along the way and bought some provisions for tomorrow morning. Again, the food was ridiculously cheap, and, very conscientiously, the vendor even wrote out a detailed receipt for us. The paper and ink must have cost him almost as much as he made on our meagre purchase.

 

Back at our room, we enjoyed the wonderful view from our balcony. The town and fortress were brightly lit and far across the lake, the lights of Albanian homes beckoned to us. In a few hours, we would at last get to know that country. Looking forward to another exciting day, we snuggled into our pillows and read in our travel guide about the wonders that were to meet us tomorrow.