I walked up through the town and up along the path towards the Church of St. John, and watched the sunlight slowly get stronger over the lake and light up the church. I then entered the church yard and found a rock overhanging the lake which I sat on just soaking up the warmth of the sun and the peaceful atmosphere, with only the sound of the odd boat passing by underneath. I could have stayed here for a long time, but after an hour or so and deciding that being covered in ants wasn’t such a great thing, I returned to the town to find the bus to Struga.

The bus to Struga supposedly left from the bus stop at the top of the road from my room. After briefly being distracted by the Albanian van labelled ‘Wacker’, I stood by the bus stop and waited. Several buses came and went, none seemingly to Struga. Full of anticipation for my day trip, I eventually ended up being squashed in the back of a taxi with a family of three and an old man. Not being quite what I planned, but costing me the same as the bus would have, we drove up the side of the lake towards Struga on the empty roads, and I was dropped off in the town centre.

I wandered down the main street, busy with people in the cafes and shops. I reached a wide bridge which crossed a river, and wandered down the side towards Lake Ohrid. It seemed like quite a pleasant little town, especially in the sun, smaller than Ohrid but fairly bustling. Being nearly on the border with Albania, many signs were in both Macedonian and Albanian and there was a slightly different feel here than in Ohrid. It wasn’t long until I reached the lake, and found an area surrounded by reeds, full of frogs, which I stood watching for a while until a man came up to me and started talking to me. We ended up conversing in pidgin French, asking where I was from and so on, then he started asking me to go for a coffee and my phone number, so I had to make a break for it saying no sorry, until he eventually left me alone.

A bit annoyed and disrupted, I walked along the lake and found a beach, pebbly but almost empty and with the feel of an out of season resort, which I guess it was.

I lay down on the beach soaking up the sun, slowly watching the clouds come over the mountains until they covered the sun and it was too cold to stay there anymore. I walked back into the town along the other side of the river, reaching the crumbling town square.

Finding Cafe Lady Di was a bit of an intrigue.

Wandering around taking pictures, someone started shouting at me, and already being wound up from the man earlier, the progressive decline in good weather, and general lack of things to do, I decided it was time to get out of this place. This was easier said than done, having got a taxi here, I didn’t know where the bus would have dropped me and thus where I needed to go to get back on one. I had a basic map that showed a bus station north of the centre, so I headed up the main road towards it, and the rain started to fall. It seemed to take forever along this road, and I eventually reached a huge truck road, which didn’t look very pedestrian friendly, but there seemed to be a flow of people going in the direction of the ‘bus station’, so I followed this route, narrowly avoiding being hit by the huge lorries speeding down it. I never did find the bus and, even more annoyed, walked back into the town, found a taxi, and paid the 300 denar (about £4) to get back to Ohrid.

Getting back to Ohrid was like going home. With the sun returning I went for a walk, going up to the Kale, but this time around it and through the woods on the other side going down the hill towards the lake. This involved trying to avoid a large group of Italian students (who seem to get everywhere), but once I’d got away from them I had the place to myself. It got a bit slippery with the pine needles, but I found a route through and a view of the lake and part of the new town, where a football match was going on. Further along was a nice ledge above the cliffs, where I sat for a while, noticing a secluded beach hidden down beneath the rocks, with a random dog walking around it. Thinking I was the only one here, my peace was interrupted by a small group of local children running down the hill towards this beach. The sun was going down, and not knowing exactly where I was and not wanting to get lost here, strolled back in the direction of the familiar church I had spent the morning sitting by. This time I sat slightly above the church, but with a magnificent view of the lake and the setting sun, it was very peaceful and serene yet again. There seemed to be a rainbow circling the sun, something I’ve never seen before, whether it was something to do with the water or the thin clouds I’m not sure.

A beautiful morning, Yoonseon and I decided to go for our boat trip on the lake. We walked out from our room along the street past the interesting gardens with assorted ornaments decorating them, such as the scary doll in a tree branch.

Walking down to the lakeside, we were quickly greeted by Bobby (named after the famous English footballer of course) who offered his boat as our transport on the lake. He was very enthusiastic and proud to have been documented by a man from CNN. On my return home I found the video he is featured on: http://bit.ly/dBq6DO. We agreed a price and climbed onto the wooden boat and took a seat.

Bobby

He started the engine and we sailed out onto the clear blue water, which apart from a few other boats dotted around, it felt like the whole lake was ours alone.

On the distant lakeshore near Struga the land reflected slightly in the water, and the mountains of Albania provided the backdrop.

Bobby took us around the shore to view Ohrid from the lake, its churches and red coloured buildings pretty in the bright sunlight. We saw the cave church hidden under the overhanging cliff face, and secret beaches dotted around the peninsula.

From here Bobby took the boat out across the lake towards the end of the quay and Marshall Titos former residence. It must have been a lovely place to have to stay, even though we weren’t allowed to get too close to it.

We then floated out further into the middle of the lake, Bobby stopped the engine and proceeded to make us a cup of Turkish style coffee. Using coffee grounds and some water from the lake, he boiled it up into a frothy mixture on a small gas stove, and served it up to us in small ceramic cups. Very strong, but very nice (I thought, not sure about Yoonseon) until the end of it when my mouth was filled with the bitter sludge at the bottom. But it was a great place for a cup of coffee anyway, on a beautiful blue lake in the warm sunlight.

I could have stayed floating on the lake all day, but we had to go back to dry land eventually.

Yoonseon and I bid farewell to Bobby and headed into the town for a coffee (with milk and not as strong) and some food. We went to a small place to eat, and sat outside on one of the tables on the street. I ordered lemonade and ‘Tavče gravče’, a bean based slightly spicy stew type dish, which was delicious and filling.

After our food, Yoonseon had to get ready to leave Ohrid for Skopje, so we headed back to the room and then walked out to the bus station for her bus at 3pm. It was a fair walk out to the bus stop, made harder by the rough pavements slowing down Yoonseon’s wheeled suitcase.

We arrived at the bus station and avoided the taxi touts, got a ticket and waited for the bus to arrive on the vast concrete expanse. We had a last drink together in the small bar, the blue plastic roof diffusing the sunlight.

After I had bid a sad farewell to Yoonseon, I wandered back into town, taking a few pictures along the way.

Back on my own, I decided to head up to the fortress and take in the view of the town and the lake. The clouds caused the sunlight to form pools of light on the water’s surface, and it was peaceful just sitting on the stone walls looking out.

As the sun started to go down, I left the fortress and headed back down into the town, and had a closer look at the amphitheatre. It’s relatively recently excavated seats still showed the inscribed names of the people who once sat there, which provided me with something to search around for for a while.

Wished farewell by Bobbi, I walked in the glorious morning sunshine towards the station. It was the first time I’d properly seen the train station since arriving in the night, a strange metal tube like thing floating above the road. The bus station was hidden behind/inside somewhere, I ventured into the dark tunnel beneath the tracks, thinking I’d found a station worse than New Street Station in Birmingham with regards to lighting and urban planning. Compared to the ruined old station, this one was a vision of the future gone wrong, dark, dank and depressing.

Back out of the other side and into sunlight again, I could see the bus station, the buses outside, inside cleaner and more modern than the attached train station.

I brought my ticket and waited for the bus to arrive. On the bus I met Yoonseon, a girl from South Korea, also on her way to Ohrid. She was spending several months travelling through Europe before starting her university course in Rotterdam. I had a room booked in Ohrid, Yoonseon asked if she could follow me as she had nowhere to stay. The bus journey was fairly uneventful, but wonderful going through the mountainous, forest-covered landscape. The bus stopped for a while in Kičevo, with its interesting bus station.

At about 1pm, we alighted the bus in Ohrid, by the ‘Tim’ Market, and greeted by Antonio, owner of the guest house I had been booked into. As Yoonseon hadn’t reserved a place, it was unclear if there was room or not for her, but we followed him the short distance to his house, and were welcomed by him and his father, his mother serving us some strong Turkish style coffee, and a red berry juice. His father showed us a map of the town, circling important places, shops, restaurants and the main churches to visit. Their garden was a very pleasant place to sit, lovely in the sun and fresh air, slightly cooler than the city, but Ohrid already had a sense of somewhere wonderful you could spend a long time in. We left our bags and went off to explore. As it was lunchtime, food was first on the itinerary, so we walked down the main street lined with shops, and a found a nice looking place by the 900 year old Ohrid Plane Tree. I ordered a pizza and a Sopska salad, Yoonseon soup and the same salad.

After having our fill, we set off to explore the town. Down to the lakeside, there was a large statue of Saint Kliment of Ohrid, said to be one of the inventors of the Cyrillic alphabet. Looking out over the lake, he held Ohrid in his arms. Further towards the water, we were hassled by a few men who wanted to take us out on a boat trip. We intended on doing so but not at this point. Walking through the narrow streets, we looked out for the many churches of Ohrid. Apparently around the lake as a whole there are 365 churches, one for each day of the year. Ohrid as a town certainly had more than its fair share.

After walking around, seeing several churches, we headed up the hill, Plaošnik, to the relevantly newly finished Church of Sv.Pantelejmon. It was located next to a massive archeological site of the old monastery and overlooked a magnificent view of the lake.

There was a resident kitten with two differently coloured eyes, running around and charming everyone. He was alright until a fully grown black cat decided to pick on him, and the sound of cats hissing overshadowed the philosopher telling me the hidden meanings of the symbols in the well-preserved mosaic.

Although it was cloudy, it was still pleasantly warm and we began the walk with optimism. There was a asphalt road leading all the way up the mountain, which although a bit winding made the climb fairly straight forward, with only the odd car to jump out of the way for. Most of the scenery consisted of trees, some beginning to change colour, but half way up we came across a concrete monstrosity, a half-finished building (possibly a hotel?), that was slowly being reclaimed back by nature. Obviously I found this far more fascinating than the trees, and it was quite creepy, a concrete shell (‘lan wei’, a Chinese expression sums it up nicely, not sure of a good English equivalent, translates to decaying ends, http://bit.ly/91Ctuw) just sat on the side of this wooded mountain.

Carrying on up the road, it got progressively cloudier and cooler, and I began to wish I’d brought my jacket. There seemed to be a cable car in the process of being constructed, and left a gap in the trees which gave a glimpse of how high we had already climbed. The huge metal cross at the top came in and out of sight as we ascended, partly due to the shape of the hill, partly the clouds that kept blowing across.

As we were approaching the summit, the sky got darker and the rain began to pour. At first very lightly, but soon icy torrents of it blew onto us soaking us through.  Foolishly, David and I had come up wearing only t-shirts, Steffi who was more organised had brought a jacket and an umbrella. We ran up to a wooden shelter where we were kept dry from the misty rain outside, but still damp we soon started to get quite cold. It seemed to take ages for the rain to ease, but when it did we decided to move just to get some warmth back.

Because it was still cloudy and raining, we decided just to start descending as there was nothing to be seen through the mist. But not long after we had started walking, it began to clear up, and we re-ascended, to view the cross up close. The view from the top was spectacular, the clouds hugging the surrounding mountains and the forests green. We could walk around the base of the cross, and it looked as though something could/would be inside the cross at some point.

There was a helicopter going up and down the mountain, presumably to do with the building of the cable car, which in the future will perhaps bring up more people to the summit than currently do so. After spending some time looking around the cross and the view from it, we casually strolled back down the mountain, as the clouds lifted and the sun finally shone. The rain had brought out the scent of the pine trees, and the air was fresh.

As the clouds had lifted, we could see down to the city below. After having seen it from the top of the Kale Fortress, it looked much bigger and more sprawling than had first appeared. I suppose in city terms it was still relatively small, and the mountains hugged it from most directions.

We got back down to the Vodno Hotel, and waited for a taxi to take us back down to the hostel. It was pleasant sitting in the sun after the experience of the cold rain, but I think we all felt a sense of achievement from having conquered the mountain, despite all the adversities we had faced.

After drying off and having a rest back at the hostel, we went out for some food, heading to Bobbis recommended restaurant ‘Olympic’. Here we sampled some traditional Macedonian food, ‘Pestrami’, a pizza-like pastry dish covered in egg and pieces of pork, ‘Šopska’ salad, a delicious mix of tomato, cucumber, onion and white cheese and ‘Nafora’, toasted bread pieces with the same salty cheese on top.

Back out in the glaring sun, I walked in the direction of the road where the bus supposedly went. I found a main looking road, and strolled along until I came to a bus stop. There were several numbers listed, but not No. 60. So I carried on and identified the Bulgarian Embassy, which by looking at my map helped give me my location. Which was on completely the wrong road. Luckily the right road wasn’t too far away, so I found it with no problem. On the way I passed a very modern looking church, Holy Heart of Jesus Church I think.

I found the right road, a huge dual carriage way, and crossed over to the bus stop. There was a sign, but it didn’t list any bus numbers, not legibly anyway. Full of hope and eagerness I waited for the bus. Standing in the sun I could feel myself beginning to burn, and as I didn’t know the time of the bus, I sat down on the metal seats under a shabby looking fibreglass shade. Many buses came and went, people getting on and off the decrepit red vehicles. Lots of number 12s, 21s, 7s and 18s but no number 60. After over an hour and a half sat waiting, I gave up on my dream of Lake Matka and went to wander around the city streets. Lake Matka would have to wait for my return to Macedonia one day.

I decided to go and look around the Natural History Museum, not the zoo next door which is apparently one of the most depressing in the world. Again I was the only person in the museum, and the level of lighting left a lot to be desired. But the man on the door (in a white overcoat) was pleasant enough and took my 50 denars for the ticket. The museum was actually quite good, a pretty comprehensive collection of specimens going from fossils up through plants, insects, birds, mammals. All of the signage was in Macedonian but stuffed animals are always fun to look at anyway. 

Getting hungry I left the museum and went along the road to find something to eat. By the Trgorski Shopping Centre was a little place selling various pastries and pizza type food, I chose a pastry filled with a feta-like cheese, which was delicious if a little greasy. Hunger satisfied my next mission was to find some postcards, which was harder than it might have seemed. I walked down Marshal Tito to the Ramstore, a modern shopping centre with clothes shops and a huge supermarket. The floor was very slippery and not wearing the best of shoes walking through the centre proved to be an interesting experience. Not finding any cards I returned to the Trgorski Centre and found a little kiosk selling postcards and other various ‘touristy’ things. The postcards were ok, just a little curled and faded. But they would have to do as there wasn’t much else on choice. Using it as an excuse to go inside the fabulous post office, I needed stamps. Finding the entrance was a challenge, at first I ended up going into what must have been the back offices or staff entrance or something, but the guys on the desk pointed me in the right direction. The entrance was at the top of some steps which led up from the overgrown waste land that lay in front of the building. Inside was massive, massive and empty, very imposing and very communist and almost evangelical in feel. The wooden service windows that ran around the inside of the cylindrical room seemed a bit optomistic as out of about 20 only 4 were open, and yet again I was the only person in there apart from staff. I purchased my stamps from the English speaking lady behind one of the windows, and left the building feeling a bit small and intimidated by it.

Climbing up the slightly precarious outer walls, there were several places I could have just walked off and fallen to my death on the road below, I sat at the highest point in the sun for a while. Looking out over the city I felt free and liberated, after my anxieties at the beginning of the journey about embarking on this alone and all the stupid niggles in my head, I was surprised and relieved at the sense of peace I felt.

Around the fortress were random things like rusting cars and vans, broken benches, piles of clothes and other things I probably found more interesting to my photographers eye than the fortress walls themselves. But there is no accounting for taste. On the map I could see I could walk along the river up to the Luna Park, which I had heard vague things about before I had left home. It sounded like a run down partially abandoned amusement park, not somewhere you would probably go to have fun, but it to me it sounded fascinating. So off I went.

Walking along the river was very pleasant in the sun, I came across the Skopje City Beach, which basically consisted of a slightly raised platform covered in sand with some deck chairs on it and a few bars placed along its length. And not many people.

After walking too far along the river and ending up near the expensive Hotel Aleksandar, I back tracked through the City Park until I finally reached the Luna Park, much to my excitement. As far as reaching expectations were concerned, it at least met them if not exceeded them.

Down a path lined with a few refreshment bars, a moderately sized ferris wheel towered over a concrete expanse, dotted with various rides and amusements. There seemed to be a Kasa which might have been open to buy tickets from but none of the rides seemed to be working. Whether they did work was also up to speculation as they weren’t completely ruined but didn’t look very safe to me.

There was some sort of merry-go-round, consisted of various vehicles and horses:

the ubiquitous naively drawn cartoon characters on every surface:

a Sky Dance ride, its hoarding falling away:

and a fun house mirror, I presume, although half of it was now missing:

After wandering around the somewhat creepy fairground, being virtually the only person there apart from a mother supervising her child in a caged trampoline, I left feeling slightly melancholic, even though the sun was still blazing down.

10 hours after leaving a cold dark Birmingham and a long night with little sleep, I found myself waiting in the comparatively roasting hot city of Thessaloniki for the 17.04 train to Skopje. The capital city of The Republic of Macedonia, this city was my final destination of this long journey. I had just under two weeks in which to explore this small, little known country, with just me and my camera. Full of apprehension, stupid worries and fears, but also a great deal of excitement, I had made it this far and was looking forward to the train journey that would take me into this compact country.
After waiting several hours for the international ticket window to open, I paid my €10 for the ticket, and ventured through the station to try and find the train. None of the departure boards were working, so it was unclear as to where you were supposed to go to get on the correct train.

Wandering onto the platforms I could see there were several trains, most a bit old and covered in graffiti, but contrasted by a newer cleaner one on the far track. Eventually after wandering around taking photos and enjoying the sun, I noticed on the most dilapidated looking train of all a little sign, underneath the graffiti saying ‘Balkan Power’, that said ‘Скопје’ – good job I could read the cyrillic and work out it was probably headed to Skopje, so I went to the platform and got on, found a seat in the almost full carriage and sat waiting and hoping that this was the right train.

The view wasn’t as good from inside.

To my relief the train departed at 17.04 exactly and my ticket was checked with no problem, I was on my way to Skopje! The Greek sun quickly turned to Greek storm clouds and speeding through the dusty landscape the rain started to pour in through the open window, the open window that would remain open for the duration of the journey as everyone on the carriage attempted to close it to no avail, including the conductor, and the huge man who tried and in the process squashed me against the window with his belly.

The border came, passports checked, legs stretched, and after taking at least 20 photos of the station was told by the police woman in a gentle way that it wasn’t allowed, such was the strict enforcement of this policy.

The rest of the journey took us deeper into the increasingly darker Macedonian countryside, the window still open and blowing a gale over me, the only lights in the carriage the overheads which were stuck on the dimmest setting. My first impressions of Macedonia were of a very dark place, with a spooky sky as the slightly golden moon rose above the mountains.

Tired from 48 hours of no sleep, I kept nodding off and waking suddenly at every little stop, petrified of missing the stop for Skopje. I just wanted to get there and fall asleep in a bed. Eventually after 5 hours on the train, it reached Skopje, I stumbled off and walked through the dingy station, took the first offer of a taxi, and still slightly scared at the situation I had put myself in, reached the hostel, was greeted by Bobbi (its owner), and promptly fell asleep in my bed for a straight 14 hours.