Riding with Rob: Croatia - Bulgaria via Montenegro, Albania, Kosovo and Macedonia.

Day 41

I woke early and set off alone to squeeze in some final sightseeing and joined with gave later to see whether we could get our bikes to a mechanic (mine was feeling a little out of sorts after riding on the track out of Podbuce). unfortunately though, it seems that you can buy a cheap chinese made bike in Dubrovnic but if/when something goes wrong with it you're screwed as no bicycle mechanics exist in southern croatia!

on my way out of town i was accosted by a wild eyed man who had the appearance and alcoholic aroama of rab c nesbit and the agenda of an english herritage warden. "This is a padestrian area" he exclaimed "get off now!". i had no problem with this at first but when he grabbed my handle bars and started shaking the bike i took exception to his less desiarble qualities. a stand off ensued with him blocking my path and me refusing to get off my bike. seeing the fury welling in my eyes he let go of the bars and i promptly got to my feet. "tsankyou" he shouted. "no, tssssankyou" i replied.

Yan was sailing to italy that afternoon where he would begin his ride home. so we said goodbye over lunch and then dad ollie and i set off with the scots to montenegro.

the croatian border guards joked with all of us about not having papers for our bikes - dad's face was a picture when he thought he might be in some sort of trouble. - this changed to nervous smile when he realised it was a joke.

our first night in montenegro was spent in a dodgy looking park where we put our tents up in the shaddows and hoped that no trouble would come our way.

Day 42

Day 42 was a perfect cycle toring day with sublime scenery, a pefect host and an explosion!

It started disasterously when i found myself squating over a cafe toilet short of loo roll . my judgement over loo roll quantities is usually pretty good and i would have been fine if it hadn't been for a 'secondary movement'. not wishing to soil my cycling shorts i thought to myself what would bear grills do in this situation - and so i begun unravelling the loo roll tube as finely as i could and made do with that. it was rough as hell but got me out of a...sticky situation.

After this incident we said goodbye to the scotts who wanted to save themselves 20km by sailing across the kotor fjord. MISTAKE! the 20km ride around the fjord was undoubtably the most scenic riding of the trip so far. spectacular 1500m cliffs plunged into turqouise water, the roads were flat as a pancake and we refreshed ourselves with pomegramets that were growing alongside blooming purple flowers at the waters edge.

We then rode into Kotor town where i was met with a Bianca-esque RICKYYYYYYY from across the harbour. the scots hadn't got very far and it seemed that we were destined to spend another night with them. they set off up the 900m hill towards Montenegro's capital, Podgorica, agreeing to let us know if they found a decent campsite.

Dad Ollie and i then set about exploring the wonderful medievil citadel. Whilst in the main square ollie and i got talking to an american film maker. what happened next was riddiculous. i remember subconsciously registering that someone had come over and said "ok we're gonna do the explosion now" but i didn't take much notice. the next thing i knew there was an almighty bang and i was struck in the back by something. indeed i had been hit by shrapnel from a plant pot that had just been blown up from a 1st storey window. i genuinely felt shaken and all the film maker could say was "that was really f#cking dangerous!" we promptly left kotor and climbed the pass in evening sunlight. the fjord looked fantastic and the views only got better as the sun began to set over the adriatic.

We camped that night in the garden of a montenegran named alex. Alex was a fascinating character. he invited us inside for some grappa telling us that he was normally a drinking man but was on medication due to a recent car crash. the crash was a blessing in disguise for us as he was a big man and i wouldn't have wanted to feel obliged to keep up with him! he regailed us with tails of his life in the merchant navy, his time in britain where he fled as war broke out in his country and where he became montenegro's first rugby player after having a stint at london welsh. He was quite the wheeler dealer too with a real estate business, a hunting business and a gun importation business called barretta (i got a bit worried at this point) which he had had to set up after 9/11 when his hunter tourists could no longer bring their weapons with them. His sister, Svetlana Drugovic, is montenegros top artist and her work can be seen in the offices of the countries top officials. she even met the queen of england after winning a competition in london! he told us about the history of his country and talked frankly about "bullshit" wars and dodgy politicians. he warned us about bears, wolves and albanian bandits. it was an informative and entertaing evening, he'd been the perfect host!

Day 43

the next morning alex invited us in for eggs and more grappa. one to warm us and one for the road! an old girlfriend of his appeared on the morning news, "what the fuck, she was with me in london" he exclaimed.

we rode through deep autum colours towards Podgorica. the capital was unimpressive. an ugly soviet block type town so we left.

we had our final final night with the scots on the border with albania and dad put on feast of chocolate for us - which he had bought with euro coins he didn't wish to lug over albanian mountains.

Day 44

Day 44 was stressfull. we had planned a few days of big rides that would hopefully get us through the landmine infested north eastern albania unharmed. we all felt a little apprehensive before going to albania and the pressure was on dad who's fitness was inevitably not up to mine and ollies (as he hadnt just ridden 1800 miles), so tensions were high.

the morning started well though. after fixing dads 1st puncture of the day we crossed the border into albania and the culture shock was incredible. i couldn't believe that i was in still europe! hosre and carts were everywhere. children rode motorbikes. concrete bunkers dominated the landscape (known as mushrooms the defence obsessed former dictator had thousands of them built in every strategic position immaginable, there is one bunker for every 4 albanians!) the 'A' road we were on was as rough as a badgers arse, some tarmac, some track. the train tracks were used as sheparding highways. there was rubbish everywhere (it was like riding through a beautiful rubbish dump). the dogs were out of control and half of them lay dead by the road. livestock roamed free. it was absolute mayhem and i loved it. the people were exceptionally freindly and seemed just as fascinated by us as we were by them.

We weaved and dodged our way to Shkoda where the road to Kosovo turned away from the road to Tirrana. Shkoda was lively too. East met west and where churches sat next to mosques and call's to prayer could be heard over the top of dance tunes booming from boy racer cars.

We followed the road towards kosovo and people began to look more and more surprised that we were there. chow! they would yell. and ollie raced kids who were on scooters and on bicycles.

lunch however was very stressfull and set the tone for the rest of the day. we found a quiet spot in a provincial town and ollie went off to find a toilett. he returned having failed to find one, followed by a dozen boys who he left with dad and me whilst dissapearing to find a different loo. dad got another puncture and started dealing with that. slowly the boys surrounded us getting closer and closer until they were in my face and all over the gear. it was all i could do to make sure that nothing went missing form and my 2 eyes were not enough to watch over all of ollies, dads and my things. more boys arrived and i could feel myself getting panicky. dad wanted me to help him with his bike but i simply couldnt stop watching the bikes. ollie returned and we left quickly. dad thought that i had somehow had a relaxing lunch stop compared to his punture repairing 'ordeal' and made a sarky comment accordingly. i exploded at this and all the tensions i had felt in being surrounded flowed from my lips in a verbal tirade.

we were riding over tough mountain passes battered by winds that threated to blow us off our bikes and struggling to find somewhere to camp. we had been warned not to be on the roads after dark and after a long physically demanding day dad was struggling up a final set of switchbacks . i strapped one of his panniers over the top of mine and ollie sped off up a pass and fortunately found us somewhere out of sight to camp. unfortunately we had camped well short of where we had planned. This made it likely that we were not going to make it to the safety of a hotel the following evening, leaving us with the possibilty of having to camp in the Kukes region, a particularly iffy frontier area on the border with kosovo.

Day 45

we got up in the dark and were riding by the time the sun rose. the unrellenting winds continued to batter us and the pressure of needing somewhere safe to camp meant that tensions continued to run high. chilled by the wind we stopped in a cafe for a drink. the charming manager fixed us up some great coffee and we communicated by drawing little pictures on his note pad. he asked how much my bike was and not wishing to disclose the actual price i told him a conservative 100 euros. he quickly said that he would love to buy it at that price! we said goodbyes with hugs and hand shakes and pointed our bikes into the head wind once more. we began to feel optomistic about reaching kosovo and the hotel until we realised the maps we had (both of them) were wrong and that the hotel was actually about 15km further on than expected. with this we resigned ourselves to fate - which was just as well as dad said he was at his physical limit.

as the night began to close in on us shepherd boys walked their flocks home and lorry drivers gestured to their watches suggesting that this was no time for cyclists to be on the road! again there was no where that we could see that looked safe enough to camp and irrational fears about bandits began to kick in. i kept thinking about the foriegn office warning "we advise against all travel to the north east border areas (ie the district of kukes) between albania and kosovo because of the risk of unexploded ordnance...avoid traveling at night". we were in the district of kukes and traveling at night.

The fear got me in a praying mood and salvation came in the form of the Dedas family. as we began descending from the pass we stopped at a small farmstead, tentatively walked through two gates and knocked on their door. they were only too happy to let us put our tents up in their farm yard and they promptly set about bringing a light out so that we could see what we were doing. we then began cooking our supper but before the pasta was done we were invited insde for coffee and racki! Nicole senior, 75 years old and a former general in albania's communist army, was the patriarch of the family. he had six sons including Nestor who i spoke in broken spanish with, christian who helped us put up our tent and edward who made the coffee, 3 daughters were present, one son in law, Nicoles wife and his charming 4 year old grandson nicole junior. we spoke about his time in the communist army and the livestock he had on his farm. ollie and i made the mistake of accepting a ciggerette which meant that they were continually forced (in the nicest way possible) upon us the rest of the evening. they gave us the best seats right by the fire and bent over backwards to make sure we were comfortable. for example when dad sat on the floor to take his shoes off before entering the living room, edward was quick to give him a stool to do it from.

we dissapointed our hosts by returning to cook our supper but when we went outside we found that the dog had eaten all our food. "no problem" the Dedas said! they quickly set about putting together a grand albanian feast for us. Tirrana beer flowed and the women ate in a different room to the men. prime cuts of mutton were presented to us and i was utterly humbled by the whole experience. i went to bed that night knowing i had just had one of the best experiences of my life and feeling very privilaged to have seen the dynamics of such a tight albanian family in full hospitality mode.

Day 46

i felt like i had been on a heavy night out when dawn broke. my head pounded from the racki and my lungs felt like a chimney. the moment i emerged from my tent i was presented with a glass of warm milk. it seemed that the dedas were as un-relenting in their hospitality as the albanian wind had been in blowing in our faces for the previous two days! they gave us eggs and a tour of their lovely farm. the real highlight being nicoles homemade distillary where the racki was made!

sad as it was we had to leave and cross into Kosovo we promised to send them the photos that had been taken of the evening and the whole family posed for one fianl shot.

on the way to kosovo we stopped for lunch in a field beyond the town of kukes. i almost shat myself when a self loading shotgun went off above my head. unbeknown to us a man had spotted a pigeon in the field we were in, stopped his car, crept on to the bank above our heads and blown the thing away. i thought a mine might have gone off and felt edgy until the gun wielding gent strode across the field and picked up the pigeon. he walked back towards us said something to dad before dissappearing again. ollie noticed that the pigeon was still winking and this put me off my lunch more than the fright of gun shots!

we crossed the border and made it to Prizren in southern Kosovo. i got talking to some German Officers who there working for KOFOR, the UN force providing security in the country. "what do your parents thinks of you making a crazy tour all over the balkans?" he asked. i told him i had brought one of them with me!

That night we were privilaged to some fine kosovan hospitality in Besinis family resteraunt and then went to bed in a bed. which was great!

Day 47

Riding out of Prizren the following day it was a shock to see the burnt out buildings riddled with bullet holes and churches heavily guarded by KFOR troops. it brought home the reality of war and made me conscious of the instabilty in the region. we rode over another attractive pass and ended up staying in a hotel in strpce. Strpce was unusual as it was a serbian enclave and the serbian flag flew everywhere not the kosovan. we were welcomed into the hotel though and once again the hospitality shown to us was fantastic.

Day 48

Our hosts provided us with omlettes and racki for breakfast and i noticed that a group of truckers were already well tucked into the beer (this was at 8 am).

The weather got bleaker and bleaker until we were riding head on into snow and sleet. everything became wet and my hands and feet were frozen stiff! every garage we passed invited us in so that we might warm ourselves. at one garage we stopped and a man wound down his window and handed us three alcoholic energy drinks called 'dracula'. this powererd us on towards the macedonia. we stopped at a resteraunt on the border for one final dose of kosovan hospitality. they hung our wet things by the fire and made us as comfortable as we could be. drinks were on the house and the manager made it clear that he loved the british and americans for helping kosovo gain its independance. i told him that i was happy that he was happy about this and cheers errupted around the resteraunt!

we then crossed the border into macedonia and whizzed through skopje during rush hour.

so this is as far as im going to get with the blog tonight. sorry for the delay in letting you all know where i am. its currently day 58 and ollie and i are in istanbul. 2600 miles on the clock. hopefully i'll be able to fill in the blanks for you before setting off tomorrow.

best wishes!