Day 23 and the long awaited Albania

It must have looked rather comical as we walked through the NARROW cobblestone streets, S2 pushing his bike with one front pannier, one rear pannier, a huge green duffle bag across the back rack that I held with one hand as I carried the Albet Heijn grocery bag, our food supply, and my purse in the other hand, while NS bumped along with her backpack and her standard 3 bags (map bag, cord bag, and toiletries bag).  We were headed to the car.  

This old town section of Ohrid was indeed picturesque, and absolutely captivating to those people from Wyoming who know wide open spaces.  Imagine no place to park on a stone path that is wide enough for about a car and a half, where any slightly wider spot is taken by a parked car.  Our car was safely in a real parking lot, atop a small hill, near a constructed overhang, seemingly built to provide more parking.

Based on his experience of parking yesterday, S2 opted to leave the bike OFF the car and follow me down the teeny, tiny streets to avoid the low hanging wires and the other low clearance places.  Thus, with me driving, slowly and deftly, he followed on the bike, until I got stopped by a car making a delivery.  It is all part of the Meditterean lifestyle.  We can't be in a hurry, there isn't enough room to be in a hurry.  I just had to wait until the delivery was finished before I could proceed.

What a great bright, sunny day!  Perfect for the latest adventure!

For years, Albania was the place no one could go.  Their border was sealed tight, and I remember stories that they only had phone connections with Greece.  They didn't want or need anyone else.  Mother Theresa might be the most famous Albanian.  When she decided to devote her life to others, she asked to go to the poorest place in the world, her own country being among the places with  'the least' of many things.

In 2006, we took the kids to Croatia.  We flew in to Zagreb from Moscow.  We spent the first night at a youth hostel.  It was a far cry from the lovely youth hostels of my first European experience in 1983.  The reviews on Trip Advisor talked about Kosovoan refugees taking up a whole floor.  I can't say that I felt it wasn't safe, but I can say it wasn't the first European youth hostel experience I wanted for my children.

Our room had 4 sets of bunk beds.  We claimed our 4 beds at one end of the room. KO lay down on the bed, and started reading the graffiti on the bottom of the bed above him.  "Know anything about Albania? Email me at ...."  It has become the measure of absurdity in our family.  Whenever we are staying in a dodgy hotel, or eating at an uninspiring restaurant, or are uncertain about how to proceed, one of the children announces, "know anything about Albania?"

Today was the day we went to Albania.  It was less than an hour outside of Ohrid that we took our place in line to leave Macedonia.  It's always a bit confusing that we have to go through immigration and customs to LEAVE one country, travel between 'no-one's land' to the next immigration and customs set up, and go through the same thing again.  On this trip, we are typically asked if we have any cigarettes or alcohol, and if all we have in the back are clothes.  This was no different...apart from being in Albania at the end of it all.

What do I know about Albania now?  

1.  Mountains - it is REALLY mountainous!  They must have some of the best road engineers in the world that are planning, designing and building incredibly smooth, easy to drive, roads up and down mountains.

2.  Car washes - if you want to get your car washed, go to Albania.  They must have more car washes per capita than any other country.  I'm not talking about high school fund raisers.  I'm talking about hoses connected to water taps at gas stations, restaurant parking lots, auto repair places, shoot, at any wide spot in the road.  I kid you note, during one 2-km stretch I bet I saw 25 car washes.  Consequently, the one Albanian word I remember is 'lavash'.

3.  Pill boxes - during their paranoid Communist time, they built something like 40,000 small, concrete enforced and covered, fortifications, with horizontal slits big enough for a gun to stick out.  My best explanation is they look like the top of a Dalex (for Dr. Who fans, who I'm finding more of as I get older).  Some were decorated with colors (now fading) and I swear one had 'Tattoo' painted across the top, and appeared to be someone's shop.

4.  Shopping Mall - Yes, Eastgate shopping mall is alive and well in Tirana.  Suddenly, all the mystique of Albania is gone.

5.  Overhead Electric lines - be careful!  They may not know about optic cables here yet.  In some places it looked like each individual apartment's connected line was making sure the building did not fall down.

6.  Road signs - they put them up BEFORE the road is finished.  Thus, our Tirana by-pass experience ended quite abruptly, literally, as in the next section of construction will have to remove several high rise apartment buildings.  AND, the road sign that pointed to our destination in Montenegro, Prague and Berlin (1907 kms) took us eventually to a dirt path.

We wanted to get through Albania and Montenegro today, so we kept moving, stopping to spend the equivalent of 8 euros (leftover Macedonian money that we changed at the border) on food .. At a supermarket and a road side fruit stall (best grapes I ever had).

Next border crossing:  We had to weave our way through MANY parked semi-trucks to find the exit point for cars.  At one point we were dutifully waiting behind a semi, the only vehicle in the lines of parked traffic, going the same direction as us.  The local, in the car behind us, communicating impatience with the car horn.  

And with that, we were through Albania.

Next up, Montenegro.  Check it out on a map ... It is not that big and also very mountainous.  Carmen seemed the happiest she had been in days, although, I was never quite sure if she would be taking us over the winding mountain roads, or through the long tunnels.  It was extremely dramatic to come out of one of those tunnels and find ourselves face-to-face, so to speak, with the Adriatic Sea.

There was no mistake, we were looking at all things Mediterranean - the sea, the air, the houses and hotels, the food at the road side stalls, the flowering plants that line the roadways, just growing wild!  A big difference for me, were this incredibly high mountains jutting out of the sea, making the road really cling to the side of the mountain, requiring extra concentration and certainty of where and when to pull off, because you were either going to plunge down (if you went left) or climb an incredibly steep drive (if you turned right).  Add to this, a HUGE dark cloud gathering on these mountains, and we knew our idea of getting to Croatia today had to be abandoned.

Not a problem, we needed to learn more about Montenegro anyway.  As I checked The Kangaroo Hotel for an room (no luck), the skies opened up and it began raining, not cats and dogs, but lions and tigers and bears (oh my) and there might have been a giraffe or 12 as well.  We were trying to navigate these narrow roads, full of tourists without umbrellas and cars wanting to get to destinations quickly, while the city's drainage system, or lack thereof, was showing just how effectively it did not work.  Despite the umbrella, I found nothing after more than 5 inquiries (again, a country putting up, signs to something, I this case, hotels, before they are finished), I was totally drenched, and the rising waters had me nervous about the potential damage to the car's engine.  S2, the driver, seemed in total shock, and I decided we had to get out of this town, despite this storm and the impending darkness.

We ended up in an apartment in the old town part of Kotor.  For me, it was a relief to see my family safe, dry, and warm.  I knew the morning would probably bring a "where are we?" In more ways than one.

That incredibly sunny morning seemed a long time ago.

The time has come to start home.....

NS and I looked at maps last night, and looked at turn around points for us.  We felt like this was it.  Based on potential routes home, the number of border crossings each would require, the condition of such roads (we can actually take 4-lane highways most of they way, certainly once we make it to Serbia or Croatia), and the fact that I'll be the lone driver, we decided it was time.

S2 looked at our proposed route and decided on his drop off point.  it will be in Croatia.  Thus, we were up (early) and on our way.  It wasn't too far, an hour or two, to the Macedonia border.  We left  Bulgaria with no problems, but Macedonia wanted proof of insurance.  that is the elusive green card for the automobile.  Having none, they offered to sell us 15 days of insurance for 50 euros, or suggested we go back to Bulgaria and drive through Greece to get to Albania.  We opted for the insurance.

Our first meal in Macedonia

So, into they country formally known as The Former Yugoslavian Republic of Macedonia, or FYROM, if that is too much of a mouthful.  It all has to do with Greek objections to the claim on the name Macedonia.

It has a very Mediterranean look and feel, dry, hot, red tile roofs, plenty of flowers growing wild, and ones tended to as well.  We noted lots of water springs by the road.

FYROM is one of the 7 countries in the world that uses the Cyrillic alphabet.

We had a bit of a bad day with Carmen.  The satellites appeared to spend a lot of time asking, "where in the world are you, Carmen San Diego?"  Between the satellites losing her, and her not recogniIng most of the roads we were on, she spent a lot of time telling us to make a U turn.  Even as we knew we were getting closer and closer to Lake Ohrid, our destination, she kept telling us to turn around.  I think we were on a LOT of new roads.

I don't know what to tell you about Ohrid, other than if anyone ever asks you if you would like to go there, say YES!  We're staying in the old city, about a minute walk from the lake (yes, we took a dip I. It this afternoon).  It must be a HUGE vacation destination for people from all over the area, because it is HOPPING.

NS announced today that she reckons part of why we have managed to stay married so long is because we don't own a car.  She thinks we are at our worst when we are driving in cities, or narrow places.  Out of the mouths of babes!

We're going to attempt 3, possibly 4, border crossings tomorrow!  Wish us luck!

It's Been 3 Weeks now

Mostly an uneventful day - we had our Bulgarian breakfast (after S2's morning bike ride). Packed up the car and headed for Sophia.  

The outskirts seemed to exude prosperity.  New highways, construction on roads that showed they would be bigger and better, huge hardware and building supply stores, large shopping malls, glass, chrome, consumerism, capitalism, whatever you want to call it.  

With Carmen's help we were able to drive right to Ploschad Nevsky, park the car, walk inside the cathedral, have lunch, wander through the flea market, admire the artists' paintings, and be on our way within the two hour parking limit.  

Boyana church was the next stop.  It had redwood trees planted there in 1907.  They weren't the purpose of the visit, just a notable sidebar.

From there it was on to the Rila Monastery, started in 927.  During the Ottoman Empire it was this secluded monastery that kept Christianity and all things Bulgarian alive.  There is no doubt, the paintings/frescoes were incredible.  It is massive, seemingly a fortress by the aerial view on the postcards.  We didn't have enough cash to stay the night, so we headed up the road to the campground/bungalow park.

Whew! Talk about rustic, talk about basic, talk about no frills, talk about simple!  I'll spare the most gory details (like the condition of the communal toilet and shower) and tell you about the beds.  Let's just say, my first thought upon laying down was 'I better not turn over at all, this bed could collapse.'  

After dinner (S2 cooked spaghetti in the well equipped kitchen, well, the stove was a bit slow for him so he used our cook stove), S2 asked me if this was the second worst place we stayed.  I asked incredulously, "on this trip?"  He meant ALL our travels.  I laughed and said, "second worst?  What do you think was the worst?"  He recalled a room in China, where we had to wait for a ferry.  The bed was merely a metal frame with a rattan mat on top.  I reminded him of the place in Nepal where they had to chase the chickens off the beds and out of the room and he couldn't even stand up straight in the room.

No one could complain about the temperature.  We were in the MOUNTAINS and got to wear long pants and sweaters.  The neighbors were incredibly friendly.  They invited us over to share some homemade wine and Raika (the local firewater).  The 4-year old with them was not the least inhibited by the linguistic communication gap.  We just shared enthusiasm as each new star appeared in the sky.

Day 20

Big surprise - S2 was up early and went for a bike ride.  We had to ask NS nicely to try and leave her wad of sheets and blankets, and help us pack up and get ready to go.  The day was heating up but our 9:30 departure at least got us on our way.

Carmen cooperated with my ten different destination entries so that we could go the way we actually wanted.  This included the 100+ kms on one of those lovely new Bulgarian highways.  It was a bit unsettling, however, to find so few exits.  Would we be able to get off where we wanted?

Fortunately, yes there was an exit at Starry Zobaga, and soon we were heading into the foothills, where it really was much cooler.  We stopped at Kazanlak for S2 to look at some Thracian tombs.  Who are the Thracians?  They were here before the Romans.  You know how all that early world history is so hard to remember .. The Sumerians, the Assyrians, the Babylonians, why are today's borders so much easier to remember?  Anyhow, this tomb dates from 4000 BC.  S2 returned with a gift for us.  He claimed it was a Thracian railroad spike.  I asked, "they were here before the Romans with railroads?"  Without blinking an eye,  NS claims, "that's why the Romans got rid of them, they were jealous of their trains."

We called it a day quite early today.  We found a non-guidebook, non-Carmen accommodation with a pool.  We were all in it by 4 in the afternoon.

The young desk clerk, clearly tickled that her English was helping her communicate may have got in trouble with her parents for letting us have the matrimonial suite for 3 people.  NS is loving the couch, the big screen TV, and the huge overstuffed bear. S2 reported the clerks very shyly asked, when looking at his passport, where his name was.  She admitted it was her first time seeing a U.S. Passport.

So where yesterday we were on the beach with hundreds of people, today we were the only ones poolside, enjoying the late afternoon sun.

A funny story for middle-aged women (others may not find this as funny or interesting): I had to buy some tampons at a highway gas station (yes, for me, you can stop laughing now).  The 'owner's manual' was in 13 languages!!!!

Day 18

"This isn't a road, this is a fricken donkey path," S2 snarled at Carmen, as she told us to turn left onto Ulitsa Tri Mart.  NS and I laughed uproariously as we spotted the sign (in Cyrillic) declaring the bumpy path we were set to drive down as indeed, Ulitsa Tri Mart.

We'd gone off the main road for S2 to see some frescoes painted in caves (UNESCO identified).  Probably due to our cycling days, we avoid retracing our route if at all possible.  Thus, we were attempting to connect a series of very small roads (those kind not on the map) to get back to the main route.  This is where, usually, Carmen is a big help.  We have discovered, however, there are just as many roads Carmen doesn't know about,  brand new, oh-so-smooth, 4-lane expressways, that she tells you to make a U-turn on.  She provides us with countless laughs.  NS and I have toyed with the idea of changing her voice to a male voice for our drive home next week (as S2 won't be with us).  The debate is what we would name HIM.

Anyhow, she'd taken us on a road that I approved, in conjunction with the map (I can't let her be the sole navigator).  Neither of us had any way of knowing that the bridge was being re-built.  Hmmmm, this might have been what that sign back at the last junction was telling us.  S2 went to pull the car up to the edge of the road (just before the drop off) to start a T turn.  The three dozing construction workers popped out of nowhere yelling and screaming.  I could only imagine their thoughts 'crazy German tourist, just because they won the World Cup doesn't mean they can fly over bridges.'  They gestured up the 'path' in the direction we were traveling, yelling 'most, most' - bridge in Russian, Czech, and apparently, Bulgarian.  

Sure enough, Carmen announced she was recalculating, and we bumped and lumped our way up this incredibly narrow road, managed to make room for two vehicles going the opposite direction to pass, and at the next, uh, intersection, Carmen announced that we should take a left turn onto Ulitsa Tri Mart.  Even more hilarious, once we made the turn and S2 made his proclamation that we were on a donkey path, she told us to continue for 8.9 kms!

This was the stretch of road where I noted, all this corn and none of it is fit for human consumption.  Somehow, sweet corn has not made it from the New World to the Old World.  Those seeds must be restricted from being exported.  Every ear of corn we have eaten in Europe (and we've lived here 10 years now) has been disappointing.  I've seen the seed signs, declaring which rows of corn come from which kind of seed (just like in Nebraska and Iowa), but as far as I'm concerned, none of it is worth eating.  I've been disappointed too many times.  Peaches, however, are another story.

Other first impressions of Bulgaria: lovely rolling hills, I mean, really romantic rolling hills, lots of flowers, especially in the stretch of grass in front of the high fences at roadside, many fruit trees, and somehow, more Mediterranean, and mosques -  not big ones, small village-sized ones.

Bulgarian is in the Slavic family and uses the Cyrillic alphabet. Perhaps it is a concession to being an EU member, but the road signs are in Cyrillic and Roman letters.  So, when we stop at a T-junction, we aren't being asked to choose from 4 different destinations, there are only two choices, it just looks more complicated because of the similarities in letters that have completely different sounds.  

Our next stop was Madera to look at the national symbol of Bulgaria, a carving in a rock face of a horseman stabbing a dragon, his faithful dog by his side.  It was pretty impressive for being there since before the year 1000.  The body parts of everything looked in good proportion, well-muscled.  I would think dragons were a bit bigger, but having never seen one, who am I to assume?

On to Varna, the beach resort of the Black Sea.  It's probably the French Riviera to Eastern Europe.  During the Cold War, those of us in the U.S. could only see photos of it in National Geographic.  We knew it would be a much bigger scene than we were comfortable with, but decided to gawk anyhow.  How hard could it be?  Drive east until you reach the ocean and then go left or right! Multi-story malls, designer stores, people everywhere, lots of traffic, where is the beach?

We meet the Black Sea.

These people don't need no stinkin' Smart Car to take one of those narrow parking spots!

We continued south along the coast, heading to Nesebar, a pre-Roman fortified city, surely there would be less of a crowd there.  The 8-km Sunny Beach, prior to Nesebar would surely be THE place to be.  In the end, we discovered every square centimeter of the coast line appears to have apartments, hotels, shops, tourists, and beach umbrellas.

We had decided to take tomorrow, the 25th anniversary of that day we got the piece of paper in Japan that says we are married, and spend it at the Black Sea.  Thus, we set ourselves up to stay two nights in a hotel, with a balcony, a short walk from the beach.

What are celebrations?

NS asked us at dinner to name some memorable anniversaries.  I was stumped.  I've long preferred to celebrate November 4, 1981, the day we were introduced.  The 25th anniversary of this came in 2006.  It was celebrated in Moscow, where we rented the Near Dacha (courtesy of the U.S. Embassy) and invited close friends for a dinner.  Our then 9-year old and 12-year old, wrote a reader's theatre about their interpretation of our meeting, and directed the guests as it was performed.

I told her I couldn't remember notable anniversaries but I could remember noteworthy events: being handed a naked, warm, pink, wet baby; coming home from Quilt Camp watching my son proudly ride his bicycle up and down the street,  sending my crying daughter out my classroom door to the new playground that she had to face without any family, watching her dress as Audrey Hepburn to emcee a concert, laughing until my sides ached and tears ran down my cheeks as the three people most precious to me lay on our big bed playing windshield wipers.  It was the moment I realized the difference between enjoying life and celebrating, concluding I'm not much of a celebrator, but more of a liver. That doesn't exactly look like the liver that I mean...but somehow, lifer doesn't look right either.

Knowing all that, you might appreciate the events of the past 24 hours...  We checked into our hotel, and were grateful for three beds, air conditioning, a BIG bathroom, even if there was no shower curtain, one of those the bathroom is the shower types, but with lots of room and plenty of space to store the toilet paper from getting wet.

We enjoyed a lovely grocery dinner on the balcony in the fresh sea air.  S2 bought the wine.  The grin on his face told me he was pleased.  Brand name: Bear's Blood. He never would tell me how much it cost.  

We headed out for a walk on the beach while NS cozied up with the AC and TV remotes.  Upon our return, she reported the shower never got warm.  While switching the plugs, we blew a fuse.  Everything went off, TV, AC, fridge, lights.... Did I ever tell you we forgot to pack a flashlight?  or candles?

S2 and I headed downstairs to try to explain to the non-English speaking woman who checked us in that we had no electricity.  No one there.  Oh, but there was a phone number taped to the counter.  I assumed it was for emergencies.  Something about the Cyrillic writing with it was the tip off.  Hmmm, big mystery, we had no cell phone service.  Not a no signal, or weak signal or searching for signal...No Service.  No wonder none of us had received the two text messages from Vodafone.  We were in no service land.  We went to the basement in search of a fuse box.  Found one, and hey, our room number was the only fuse in the off position.  Flip that switch and return to the room ....  No change.  After knocking on some unmarked doors, finding no one to help us, we gave up and went to bed.

It was quite the night, laying there thinking about how freezing cold the shower had been and how how warm the room was getting, but unable to open the balcony door because the mosquitoes would come in eat NS and S2 (she had 17 bites at last count). The restaurant across the street had a lively crowd until 4 in the morning, so even if I did open the door it would be even noisier than it already was.    All this on the eve of our 25th wedding anniversary.  Well, none of our anniversaries have been especially remarkable, so did I really think this one would be any different?

Unable to sleep, I tried to think of best possible scenarios, all of which included moving to a nicer hotel room where the fuses did not blow.  Even though that meant packing up and moving, the very thing we DIDN'T want to do today.  By 6, S2 was up, ready to eat his BIG breakfast before he tackled the problem.  He said to me, "why don't you comb your hair, you might feel better!"  As if that would help.

As he ate and ate (and ate) he went over various scenarios.  He would demand our money back and move to a different hotel, but should he find a new hotel first.  If she was able to fix it, would we still move to a new hotel?  What if they offered us a different room?   The room was certainly cheap enough that even if they didn't give us a refund, we could walk away.  On and on and on he went, while bleary-eyed me tried to comprehend what was even going on.  Somehow, NS just kept sleeping.

So, off he goes to find the desk clerk, who walks in the room, points to the small fuse box above the door and motions for S2 to flip the switch that is obviously in the wrong position.  He couldn't stop laughing.  I failed to see THAT much humor in it, set the AC on high, and went back to bed.

By the time I wake up, S2 was nearly finished hand washing all our laundry (having figured out how to turn the hot water heater on), NS had eaten breakfast, and both were happy to see me in a better mood.

So, as the two of us splurged and rented a beach umbrella and two lounge chairs on the shore of the Black Sea, going in the water to cool off, we reflected on our 25 years of marriage.  We both admit, it hasn't always been easy, but we've learned a lot about adapting and being flexible, and about leaps of faith.

Maybe the next time someone asks if we ever had a memorable anniversary, I'll remember this one, or maybe I'll try to remember and only come up with memorable moments of living: my daughter's squeals and wiggles as she read the menu at the Three Broomsticks, my son's incredible graduation speech, my husband's laugh when our daughter squeezes into our embrace and says 'y'all make room for Jesus.'

NS excused herself from dinner and went for a walk on the beach.  Shortly after she left, there were fireworks in the sky, lovely bursts of orange, gold, yellow, red and green.  Yes, us romantics had to kiss and say we saw fireworks.  They lasted a short 5 mins, and when NS returned, she announced, "so you thought I was in the room all day, but really ...."  I finished her sentence, "you were arranging fireworks for our anniversary."

I slept much better that night.  No noise from the neighbor restaurant with the AC running all night.

Day 18 and 19 are coming

You get behind a day, enjoying air conditioning, and the next thing you know, you're in a hotel with no WIFI, and enjoying other things.