ALBANIA AND NORTH MACEDONIA

For our reunion in October, my sister and I (and my teenage daughter) are travelling to the Balkans. We have always wanted to visit Albania and Macedonia, and flights from Rome and London are affordable and at convenient times.
During our childhood in Yugoslavia, Albania was always a bit of a mystery. Under the dictatorship of Enver Hoxha, it was an oppressed, poor and extremely isolated country that we knew little about. On the other hand, Macedonia was one of the federal republics of the Socialist Federal Republic of Yugoslavia, SFRY, just like Croatia. Our dad had spent two years in Macedonia serving in the Yugoslav Army and the next sixty-five years talking about the adventures and misadventures of those days. He often described his long journeys home to Istria on the slow “patnicki voz”, (passenger train) that connected faraway parts of what was then our country. He talked about the friends he made and stayed in touch with decades after. About the snakes under the tents that everyone called him to kill (as a farmer he was not afraid of snakes). My favourite anecdote is about a linguistic misunderstanding. The second lieutenant gave dad a task, and he answered “zajno” (in the Chakavian dialect of Istria it means “immediately”). The commander-in-chief looked at him in shock and added “no, not together, you will do it yourself”. He thought that dad had said “zaedno” which means “together” in Macedonian.
After the breakup of Yugoslavia, the Former Yugoslav Republic of Macedonia was in a name dispute with Greece, which objected to the use of Macedonia because a Greek region is known as Macedonia and there was also the Ancient Greek Kingdom of Macedon, both ethnically unrelated to the new country. The dispute was resolved in 2019, and the Former Yugoslav Republic of Macedonia became – North Macedonia.


TIRANA


My teenager and I are flying Ryanair from Stansted on Sunday afternoon. Our soundtrack for the three-and-a-half-hour flight is a cacophony of screams and shouts from over-excited children and shushing by annoyed parents. Disembarkation and passport control at Tirana’s Rinas International Airport is quick and smooth (we use our Croatian passports) and in no time we find ourselves in a warm Mediterranean evening, a pleasant experience after weeks of relentless rain in the UK.
The bus from the airport to the centre of Tirana runs once an hour and costs four euros (it can be paid by cash or card). We wait about forty minutes for the bus to leave and due to heavy traffic, it takes another forty minutes to get to the city centre. Sis, who arrived a few hours earlier, is waiting at the station. Café terraces are packed with people chatting, smoking cigarettes and drinking either coffee or beer. In pizzeria/restaurant PizzArte we order a pizza to go and in the SPAR in the building where our apartment is, we buy drinks and sweets, and we are sorted for our first evening in Albania. Ergi’s apartment has a bedroom with a double bed and a large living room with a sofa bed in one corner and a kitchenette in the other. With its central location and extra fast internet, it is perfect for us. In the night, I am woken up by a fierce argument somewhere in the building. The only thing that bothers me is that I do not understand what the two women are shouting about…

We wake up to weather for short sleeves. The morning is bright and sunny, and the temperatures are reaching 25 degrees Celsius even before we finish breakfast. After coffees and croissants in Mulliri i Vjetër café, we rush back to the apartment to take off our tights, jumpers, jackets and scarves.
First, we visit Tanner’s Bridge, a stone bridge from the 18th century that was used for livestock. Although you can walk across, and we do, this bridge is a monument to other times, and a memory in the history of the city.
Further on, we pass three religious buildings in quick succession: Namazgah Mosque (the largest mosque in the Balkans), Saint Paul Cathedral (the main Catholic church in the city) and the Orthodox Cathedral of the Resurrection of Christ. All three buildings are rather new, and the mosque is not fully completed (cranes are visible at the back) and their presence indicates that the three dominant religions in this city coexist in peace and tolerance. In 1967, Hoxha closed churches and mosques and destroyed many religious buildings establishing “the first atheist state in the world”. This historical fact is most likely the reason why these three sacred buildings are of a recent date.
The Castle of Tirana, a remnant from the Byzantine era, is today just a wall that hosts cafés, restaurants, souvenir shops and craft studios. Although there is not much left of the original fortress, this place is worth a stroll and a mid-morning break for coffee or tea.

Not far from the Castle there is another attraction from our list, the Cloud of Sou Fujimoto, REJA. This gigantic art installation by the Japanese artist in front of the National Gallery of Arts invites you to enter; you can explore it, sit inside or climb to the top. During the summer evenings it also becomes a stage and backdrop for musical and theatrical performances.
A very interesting monument is The Pyramid. It was opened in 1988 as a museum of life of the dictator Enver Hoxha, who died three years earlier, and the grandiose design tried to resemble the pharaonic structures and the tomb of Vladimir Lenin in Moscow. The building soon fell into disrepair and was only recently turned into a playful multi-purpose space for start-ups, educational plans and creative projects. An event is taking place inside and the place is swarming with plainclothes police.

From here we go towards Skanderbeg Square, dedicated to the national hero of Albania. Skanderbeg was a military commander who led a rebellion against the Ottoman Empire in the region and became a model of resistance against the Ottomans. He formed alliances with the Kingdom of Naples and the Venetian Republic in order to stop the Turkish invaders. Eventually, everyone wanted to kill him, but no one succeeded. He died of malaria.

The Bank of Albania, the Opera House and the National Historical Museum (the largest museum in the country, famous for the mosaic on the façade, temporarily closed) are located around this square, and numerous government buildings are nearby. The square is massive and rather empty on this Monday morning. A lone stall sells a selection of local craft beers, and a busker sings Italian pop classics by Celentano and Al Bano and Romina. To rest our legs while enjoying the bright and sunny views, we jump on the Ferris Wheel. We are the only customers, and I am convinced we got a few free rides as we go round and round and round for at least fifteen minutes.
Not far from the square is the House of Leaves, a museum that bears witness to the darkest aspects of the communist times. The building served as the headquarters of the Sigurimi, the state’s secret police that spied on, prosecuted, imprisoned and often executed innocent citizens. It is a spooky house with small rooms and narrow corridors. One wonders how many horrors these walls have witnessed. In 1931, it was a maternity hospital, during the war it was the office of the Gestapo and after the Second World War it was a torture centre of the communist regime. Enver Hoxha’s Albania was certainly a paranoid state that saw enemies everywhere, tapped everyone’s phones and prosecuted thousands of innocent people.

By now we are starving. In the restaurant “Luara”, around the corner from our apartment we order a platter of grilled meat for two and an additional portion of stuffed aubergines. There is so much food that we take the leftovers for dinner. Our waiter worked for several seasons in Medulin, Istria, and speaks perfect Croatian. In the neighbouring bakery, which is also called “Luara”, we buy profiteroles with cream, chocolate and pistachio fillings to satisfy our sugar cravings.

Late in the afternoon, after a short rest in the apartment, we go to BunkART2, one of two museums located in underground bunkers. There are two BunkART spaces, but BunkART 2 is closer to us and is open until 8PM. It also seems to be quite a popular place as there is a queue for tickets (nine Euros) and it is reasonably crowded. The exhibition feels like a continuation of the House of Leaves. The bunker rooms show the devastating aspects of the oppression of Albanian communism: the labour camps, the prisons, the surveillance dossiers and the executions, as well as the structure of the Sigurimi system, and the sad history of the Popa family who raised the issue of human rights violations and hid in the Italian embassy for more than four years. Through these two exhibitions, we discover an extremely paranoid, oppressive and violent regime. Yugoslavia was a festival compared to the dictatorship of Enver Hoxha.

ACROSS THE BORDER


The bus to Ohrid in North Macedonia departs from Tirana’s East Bus Terminal. We get up early to ensure we find a city bus to take us there (there are not many signs or information boards around or a central station for city buses). We are lucky because the first bus that arrives, a yellow no 2, goes right there. It takes us through the suburbs where many apartments and houses are being built and we arrive at the international station in thirty minutes, with almost two (!) hours to spare. Plenty of time for a breakfast of croissants and coffees! The East Bus Terminal (Terminali Lindor) is a new development, and sections of the adjacent shopping centre TEG appear to be still under construction. The station is covered and spacious with several cafés, a supermarket and a souvenir/jewellery shop, and the cleanest toilets we have ever seen in a public space.
Our minibus has a capacity of 19 people, but a couple of seats are empty. We drive through small hamlets with white houses and tall minarets, incredibly beautiful hills and forests. We wait a bit at the border crossing while they check our passports. Eventually we can all continue except a family with two young children that cannot leave Albania/enter Macedonia. From what I overhear, there is an apostille missing from their papers.

OHRID

As soon as we arrive in Ohrid, we buy cheese bureks in a bakery across from the bus station and eat them standing outside. They are delicious. They taste like the best bureks in Pazin. Sis and I are convinced that bureks arrived in Istria from Macedonia, and not from Bosnia and Herzegovina, although they have an equally tasty but slightly different version. We walk to our apartment on Goce Delchev Street, our home for the three nights, and leave our bags. The apartment is very small and compact, and the extra bed is in the kitchen, but our teenage companion does not seem to mind.
The afternoon is warm and bright. It feels like late summer, even though it is almost November. We walk down our street which soon turns into a charming alley with restaurants, cafés and boutiques. By the thousand-year-old chinar tree it merges into St Clement of Ohrid Street, also known as Old Bazaar. To the right of the chinar tree is the Ali Pasha Mosque. Originally built in 1573 and renovated in 1823, the mosque is a piece of architectural and decorative beauty.


The Old Bazaar is lined with jewellers, souvenir shops, ice cream parlours, baklava and Turkish delight (lokum) shops, barbers, exchange offices, cafés and restaurants, and leads to the Ohrid Town Square and the waterfront. The square is dominated by two large statues – of Saint Naum and Saint Clement – and a view of the lake. This is undoubtedly the focal point of the city; the place is busy and noisy, people are promenading with both sunglasses and scarves to protect them from the breeze coming off the water, stray dogs chase after stray cats, children throw stones into the lake, and the terraces of cafés overlooking the lake are crowded with visitors enjoying the view, the sunshine and coffee and cigarettes.
We meander through the maze of the Ottoman old town with uneven cobbled streets, narrow passages and houses with larger upper floors, all in white with black frames and windows. We pass the Robevci Family House and then the Krapche house, which served as a model for street lanterns, a very charming detail that adorns the streets. Soon we are in front of the medieval church of Saint Sophia. The church preserves frescoes from the 11th, 12th and 13th century in the Byzantine style of that time, as well as Byzantine inscriptions on the exterior. The structure of the church is modest with no extravagant decorations, known for sacred buildings of later periods.


A short descent from the church takes us straight to the promenade by the lake, the Boardwalk. We walk across the famous Bridge of Wishes and continue past beaches and bars that are hibernating – and a few brave swimmers frolicking and laughing – all the way to the Church of Saint John the Theologian. A photo of this church perched on a cliff overlooking the lake appears in every tourist brochure and online guide. We climb behind the church and up to the viewpoint where the most wonderful images are taken. There is something about an old Orthodox church sitting on a rock overlooking a beautiful deep blue lake on bright afternoon that makes for perfect images and a unique experience.

From here we go up the hill, through the Old City Park, which resembles a deep forest, past the University of Saint Klement University and the Plaoshnik archaeological site, all the way to Samuel’s Fortress on the top of the hill. The walls of this fortress are visible from many places in the city and on several occasions, they helped us navigate through the old town. By the time we arrive, the fortress is closed, and we descend towards our apartment.
There are cats on every corner. Whether they are stray or not, the cats of Ohrid are well fed and awfully friendly…

In "Gostilnica Brioni" we treat ourselves to the specialities of Balkan cuisine: kofte with kaskaval cheese, goulash, baked beans (gravce tavce) and a dish of grilled chicken and chips for the youngest member of the team, “in case she doesn’t like anything else”. There are not many diners and the owner, an older gentleman with a moustache, tells us about his time in the Yugoslav army. While our dad served in Macedonia, the owner of "Gostilnica Brioni" served in Pula, Croatia.


Online sources for buses in Macedonia make little sense, and the following morning, after a breakfast of bureks from the Biljana bakery, we head to the Bus Station. Our spontaneous “no-map-checking” approach takes us through a rural suburb with batches of chillis drying on the balconies and old cars decaying in front gardens. There are not many intercity buses in this part of the world, and the existing ones are mostly minibuses that can carry a maximum of 18-20 passengers. In general, it is recommended to book in advance. Three tickets to Skopje cost 45 Euros, and the bus leaves at 10:45 on Friday morning.
Travelling sorted, we walk along the Old Bazaar Street and to Macedonia Quay by the lake. We sit in "Octava Lounge Bar", a rather popular and laid back place. As we fancy something sweet with our coffee – and the café does not sell food – we ask the three ladies at the next table where they got their cakes from. The Bakery Palma is not far, and I go to buy us a box of creamy cakes: a slice of Ohrid Cake (chocolate and walnuts), a slice of Raffaello torte (coconut) and a large éclair. What a perfect way to spend a few hours! Coffee and cakes in a relaxed café with excellent Wi-Fi. A cheeky black kitten charms its way onto out laps and no doubt wants to be adopted. Sis rushes to a nearby supermarket in search of cat treats but they do not sell pet food. Maybe in Ohrid even cats prefer leftover meat?

When we finally drag ourselves out of the cosy café, we head to the old town for a few more places on our list. In the Paper Museum, or the National Workshop for Handmade Paper, a small and unassuming building, we watch a demonstration of paper production the old-fashioned way, by collecting the pulp slurry into a frame and then drying the sheet for several days. This tradition began in Macedonia in the 16th century in the Monastery of Saint Naum, thirty kilometres south along the lake. Of course, we cannot leave the place without buying a couple of pieces of coarse paper. This workshop also has a replica of Johannes Gutenberg’s 15th century printing press. I could not find any information on how one of the two replicas (the original one is in Mainz, Germany) ended in Ohrid.

Next is the Ancient Theatre of Ohrid. It was built in 200 BC during the late Hellenistic period, but it was banned after being used for gladiator fights during by Romans and lay uncovered until the 1980s. Restored to most of its original features, the auditorium is now used for cultural events. It faces the lake, and it is protected from the wind by the surrounding hills. It also seems a popular spot for sunbathing…
On the way back to our apartment we take a detour to visit the Church of St. Mary Peryvleptos, another impressive sacred building from the Byzantine times.
Tonight, we dine in. The takeaway meat feast with cevapcici, kofte with cheese, chicken fillets and freshly baked pita bread is delicious. There is also plenty left for the street cats.


TOUR OF THE LAKE
For our last day in Ohrid, we book a boat tour. It departs 10AM and returns around 4PM, and it costs 25 Euros per person. We drink morning coffees in the nearby "Octava Lounge Bar", feed our black furry friend and chase away a stray dog that tries to steal his food. There are eleven of us on the tour: two young sisters from Seattle on a gap year in Europe, two women from England on a short break from husbands and children, two Spanish women, an older German couple with an adorable dog, and the three of us. During the night, the temperature has dropped a degree or two, and the wind increased its strength. The lake is calm, but the air is quite cold on the open speedboat. We cover ourselves with blankets provided by the tour company and enjoy the ride. Lake Ohrid is the deepest lake in Europe, and its colour is intense petrol green, almost the same shade as the hills in the distance. The whole experience of gliding across the lake is quite absorbing. And for our teenage companion, this is the favourite part of this half-term adventure.

Our first stop is the Bay of Bones, a reconstruction of a floating prehistoric settlement with stilt houses and objects recovered from the bottom of the lake. The houses are very small and have only two areas: one for cooking and one for sleeping, which are separated by some kind of wooden barrier. In the middle of the village there is an oval hut with seats around the wall, a communal place where villagers gathered to socialise or discuss important issues. According to experts who were involved in the excavations in the area, this kind of settlement dates back to the end of the Bronze Age and the beginning of the Iron Age, which makes it over 3,000 years old. The reason why it is called the Bay of Bones is because of the large number of perfectly preserved animal bones that were retrieved during the excavations of the lakebed. With its location in a secluded bay, the cuteness of the small dwellings and the enchanting beauty of the surrounding hills and the lake, visiting this place feels like stepping back in time or into a movie.

Further down the coast, we stop at the church of Holy Mother of God Zahumska. The church is closed and after seeing numerous other churches in Ohrid, I would have preferred spending more time in the Bay of Bones.
Our last stop is the Monastery of Saint Naum, which dates back to the 10th century. Saint Naum or Naum of Ohrid was a Bulgarian scholar and disciple of Cyril and Methodius and he participated in the creation of the Glagolitic and Cyrillic scripts, as well as spreading of Christianity in the region. He was buried in the small church inside the complex. Legend says that if you put your ear on his tomb, you can still hear his heartbeat. No, we do not do that. With scarce light seeping through narrow openings in the dome, murals of religious life adorning every corner of the wall and carvings in dark wood, the church is mystical enough.


Next, we walk through the forest toward the Black Drim’s Spring. The path, trees, smells and sounds of birds, remind us of the forests around our farm in Istria. Dad always said that in Macedonia he felt like at home. Next to the church of Holy Mother of God, we admire a pocket of crystal-clear water, and then we head back to the floating restaurant “Ostrvo”. After religious and nature experiences, we are now ready for nutritional fulfilment too.
We order a platter called “Taste of Macedonia” with a couple of pies, two types of fried cheeses (one similar to feta, other to halloumi), a round of omelette with spring onion and cheese and lutenitsa (vegetable relish similar to ajvar, but with larger pieces of roasted red pepper and much spicier). Our teenage companion orders breaded chicken fillet with chips covered with grated Macedonian cheese. Delicious.

It takes the boat one hour to get back to Ohrid. The wind is colder than in the morning and the thin blankets are of little help. On the way to the apartment, we stop in "Istanbul Cay Ocagi" for a cup of Turkish tea. It warms our fingers. And all the rest.




SKOPJE
We leave Ohrid on Friday morning at 10:45. There are only a dozen of people on the bus. The roads are bumpy and winding, and we pass through small villages and stunningly beautiful scenery with trees dressed in their multicoloured autumn coats. Halfway we stop in Mekicite od Straza. Everyone on this route seems to stop here. The place is overcrowded with buses, lorries and cars. The toilets are dirty and the male toilet assistant yells at me as I exit the cubicle… I wish I understood what his problem was… It reminds us of the places we stopped on our primary school excursions, many decades ago. An elderly man to my right pops in the restaurant and returns with a strong whiff of rakija. He and his wife are visiting a relative in Skopje and their two massive suitcases are full of organic products from their fields.
We arrive in Skopje midafternoon. I am equally shocked and fascinated that the buses in Skopje are red double-deckers! Like in London. Our apartment is spacious and centrally located with a balcony overlooking the street from the Triumphal Arch of Macedonia to Macedonia Square. There are few stink bugs running around the bathroom day and night, but they do not bother us. At least ten chubby and cheeky cats live in the courtyard, and we feed them for next couple of days, both with leftover meat and with cat treats that we find in Skopje supermarkets.

Our first stop is café "Dolce La Terrazza" for cakes and coffees. Tiramisu, the favourite dessert of our teenage traveller, contains too much caffeine, but the fruit cake is wonderful, both in appearance and taste.
The rest of the day, we stroll aimlessly through this fascinatingly beautiful city. Located halfway between Belgrade and Athens, in the middle of the Balkan peninsula, Skopje offers a fascinating mix of cultures. Throughout its rich history it was conquered and ruled by Byzantines, Bulgarians, Ottomans, Serbs...and by some more than once. Skopje is also the birthplace of Mother Teresa (born in an Albanian family) and just around the corner from our apartment is the Memorial House dedicated to her life and works. The Catholic saint and winner of the Nobel Peace Prize lived here for her first eighteen years, and this memorial house was built on the site of the church of the Sacred Heart of Jesus where Mother Teresa, then Gonzha Bojaxhiu, was baptised and later received her first communion. It is a rather controversial building that many architects describe as tasteless and offensive towards the person it commemorates.

From here we go to Macedonia Square, in the centre of which is the sculpture of Alexander III of Macedonia. The famous warrior king sits on a rearing horse and holds a sword. The base of the pedestal is decorated with Hellenistic warriors and large statues of lions. Yes, definitely a bit kitsch but still quite impressive!

The Square opens to the Vardar River and the pedestrianised Stone Bridge is straight ahead. This bridge, a symbol of Skopje, was built by Sultan Mehmed the Conqueror between 1451 and 1469. There is lots of activity around this bridge, including a puppeteer and a musician. People are strolling across and stopping for selfies. I cannot stop thinking how out of place the Archaeological Museum across the river looks with its ancient Greek façade. Nearby are two more statues of gigantic proportions that capture our attention: Saints Clement & Naum and the Fountain of Olympia, Mother of Alexander III of Macedonia.
This is where our favourite part of the city begins, the Old Bazaar. Narrow and cobbled streets are full of character, colour and actions. We walk to Mustafa Pasa’s Mosque at the top of the Bazaar, and then, as the afternoon shifts into the evening, we get hungry and head to the restaurant “Old House” which offers traditional Macedonian dishes. We overdo it. Again. But, as our teenage travellers admits, the food is so tasty in the Balkans. And there is also a lot of leftover meat for the cats in our courtyard.

We have the best intentions to visit at least one museum on our last day in Skopje, either the Museum of the Macedonian Struggle or the Museum of the City of Skopje. However, after a walk to the fortress, locally referred as Kale (Kale comes from Turkish and means castle or fortress) we descend to the Old Bazaar and get stuck for most of the day. Skopje’s Old Bazaar is a magical place of charming cafés, crowded burekdzinice (burek-only bakeries) ethnic restaurants, souvenir shops, expensive jewellers, boutiques with extravagant wedding dresses and an indoor market selling everything one can think of (or not), from fruits and vegetables, to knitted socks made of local wool. If I lived in Skopje, I would be spending my days here. There is a fascinating vibe where everyone knows everyone and lures accidental tourists into their circle of trust.


My sister’s friend who lives in Kumanovo, a town on the border with Serbia, meets us for lunch. We eat staffed aubergines and kebabs in a Turkish café and then drink fresh pomegranate juice from the nearby stand while chatting to the pomegranate-man, and his brother, and another friend, and so on...
Sis flies back to Rome in the evening and we see her off on the bus to the airport. As in Tirana, there are not many signs, and even fewer buses. Her bus leaves from a spot outside the main bus station in Skopje, next to a pharmacy. However, there are no buses on Sunday mornings, and we book a taxi to get to the airport in time for our Wizzair flight to Luton. The two of us slowly stroll back to the apartment and take a pizza to go from "La Terrazza" restaurant. My teenager reminds me that we also ate takeaway pizza the night we arrived in Tirana. It makes sense, I suppose, to start and end a holiday with the same thing.
Next morning, we take all the leftover food and cat biscuits to the courtyard. It is early and we worry that cats might still be sleeping, but at our first pspsps, an army of felines comes running from every corner.
As we ride through sleepy Skopje, I am sure I will come back. The museums are still waiting, after all…