Macedonia

 Debar, Albania / Macedonian Border Crossing — Lake Ohrid - Bitola - Kocani - Bulgarian Border 220 miles / 350 km

Lake Ohrid 

By the time we reached the Macedonian border, we'd experienced pretty much every type of weather in a single day. We'd spent hours traversing treacherous Albanian mountain roads and were wet through to our underwear. Glamorous.

At the border, we were just a few minutes ahead of the rain clouds, although for the moment we were back in the sunshine. With that being the backdrop to our journey, we didn't stop for photographs as we skirted the outskirts of a national park on our way towards Lake Ohrid, attempting to stay ahead of the rain.

The weather warmed and the road skimmed the banks of a reservoir, the scenery reminiscent of Piva Canyon. By the time we stopped beside Lake Ohrid to use Wi-Fi and search for a hotel, we were baking hot, peeling off layers we'd only recently put on.

Typical Macedonian Town

Our home that evening was Villa Aria (a three story hotel block) in Ohrid, which had secure bike parking. The Macedonian hosts, a family who lived at the hotel, were welcoming and friendly, just like every Macedonian we met. They were all educated in multiple languages, and everyone spoke English, which is taught from primary school. There was no need for Google Translate with anyone at any point. Macedonia proved to be such an easy country to travel through and the people were lovely.

Empty Motorways - the main route through Macedonia 

Ohrid's old town is cobbled and chic, catering to tourists with shops selling the usual local wares. Unusually, there were a large number of jewellery shops, perhaps suggesting that the tourists here are relatively well-heeled. Whatever the case, prices were affordable: a bottle of beer in a lakeside bar cost just £1.50.

Bitola

It was the end of the season and the town had a calm, relaxed feeling. What I remember most from that evening was that Jason Momoa apparently owned a crêpe stall and was serving pancakes. Sarah, apparently, had never had a crêpe before, but on this particular evening she decided she needed to buy one from Momoa.

Bitola

Bitola was our next stop the following morning. We elected to bypass the capital, Skopje, in favour of visiting Bitola. 'The cultural heart of Macedonia,' read the internet forum post we'd found. True to form, the café culture was apparent, with cafés surrounding the town square, dominated by two old and ornate mosques.

Sinisa talevski - the Macedonian Biker that waved us over for coffee 

As we were leaving town, a chap called Sinisa Talevski waved us over and invited us for coffee at his home. He was a biker and had spotted our UK registration plates, wanting to extend a hand of friendship. On this occasion, we couldn't accept, as we still had miles to cover, but we swapped details.

Bitola Fire station 

Tractors and Old cars in use everywhere. More so the old tractors.

Our route cut diagonally across the country, from southwest to east. We travelled through forested hills and then into open, undulating and barren landscapes and then passed the vineyards. Macedonia, like the rest of the Balkans, has huge expanses of open space, and with that comes a sense of freedom,  great to be skimming along the tarmac on the bikes. 

Huge queues of old tractors dropping grapes at the winery. No new John Deer.

You're free from the gaze of others. Free to move without being encumbered. Free from constant traffic, restrictions and people getting in your way. I don't experience that feeling in the UK unless travelling a long way north.

Freedom of the open road.

I think that's part of what contributes to the sense of calm among Balkan people. We saw no arguments and heard no angry blasts of car horns. Perhaps when nobody is constantly in your personal space, getting in your face, you simply have more room to relax.

Wild camping with the milky way 

We'd spent several nights in hotels and felt we'd had enough of towns. We wanted to camp in this vast, open country. The problem was that Macedonians don't appear to be particularly keen on camping, with no official campsites that we could find.

Wild camping sunrise 

We spent a couple of hours searching for somewhere suitable to wild camp before eventually finding the spot above, nestled on a hillside beside a small chapel. It was perfect. That evening we sat outside staring up at the stars, enjoying the dogs barking (still a theme) and enjoying the freedom.

The following day we stopped to speak with a local baker and later with the border guard. Both were proudly Macedonian. They asked about our journey and were  interested in what we thought of their country.

A fitting way to leave Macedonia, two friendly strangers,  curious about where we'd been and proud of their country. It is a great place.