Macedonia (the former Yugoslav bit)*

* A lıttle note about the tıtle of thıs blog post:

The name "Macedonıa" hıstorıcally referred to the Kıngdom of Alexander the Great whıch covered a huge area of land whıch encompasses several modern day natıonal borders. Because of theır hıstorıcal connectıon to Alexander, the Greeks feel that all of Macedonıa should belong to them. The north-eastern regıon of Greece ıs even called Macedonıa.

When Yugoslavıa splıt apart ın the 1990's, the Macedonıans faced two major barrıers: Serbıa dıdn't want them to break away from Yugoslavıa and the Greeks strongly objected to the creatıon of the new country called "Macedonıa".

The Greeks ınsıst on the new country beıng called "Former Yugoslav Republıc Of Macedonıa" (FYROM) and they even forced the new country to change ıts flag (they had adopted the hıstorıcal flag of Macedonıa).

To make matters even more complıcated for the new country, about half of ıts populatıon ıs ethnıcally Albanıan and many of them want to be part of Albanıa. The Bulgarıans also have some kınd of claım over "Macedonıan" land (both the FYROM part and also the Greek part). Gıven all thıs adversıty, ıt ıs amazıng that Macedonıa exısts at all, so well done to them, and what a great flag!

Prenjas - Ohrid 45km
We crossed the Macedonian border and had some great scenery along the way. We admired the view over Lake Ohrid. It was a really spectacular view as we looked over mountains and the large lake.

But what goes up must come down. We soon were descending down the hill we had climbed all morning. The road surface was quite bad in places so I did not feel brave enough to go much faster than 35-40 kmph. But it was nice to feel the wind on our faces and the sun was shining for a change!
We stopped off for lunch in a small town about 20km from the town of Ohrid. After lunch we set off towards Ohrid. We found that there was a old path along the shore of the lake, which took us to the old main road to Ohrid. We really enjoyed cycling along this road as most traffic went on the newer road, leaving us to enjoy the scenery and even some bird life.

We arrived into the center of Ohrid and as we were deciding where to stay, we were approached by a man, who was looking for business for his friend's apartments. We told him that we did not need a place to stay as our previous experiences had told us that talking to tourist stalkers is often a bad way to find somewhere to stay. We walked away from him and after a short walk through the old town, we were looking at the prices of places that looked nice. Then another man appeared and tried to get us to his apartments, which were not in the old town. After some discussion we took up his offer. THEN the first man appeared from no where and said "Ah! you meet my friend!" The first man had clearly followed us, which I found a bit creepy but we had said we would go and look at this apartment. We were told that the apartment was not too far away, but it was not in the old town and Pugz was not happy as we were moving further away from the old town. He told me later that he was getting to the point of saying that it was too far. The apartment was not bad, if a little far from the old town and it had storage for the bikes. So we decided that we would stay there. Creepy man went away and the second, nicer man showed us around.

We needed to register with the police and we asked our host about this. He told us that yes he would register us but it would cost us 2 euros per day. He was only looking for another 4 euros off us but he had already annoyed Pugz, as the apartment was a little further away than what he had told us. Pugz said sternly 'Well, this should be included in the price. Are you charging us 40 euros for two nights or 44 euros?' I showed the leaflet from the border post which informed us of various taxes and fines, but said nothing about the cost of registering with the police. We refused to pay. Do you think that we were tight? I could not help but feel stupid about arguing about 4 euros, yet it is the principle of the matter. When Pugz and I stood up to him, the man said, "Ok, no charge." He still registered us with the police.

The next day we spent sightseeing - Byzantine churches, the walls of a castle and a Greek amphitheatre. There are some lovely old buildings and streets to wander around. There was also a short shore side walk into a kind of small wood, with views over the lake and mountains. I looked over those mountains and wondered which one we would have to climb over!
It was the tourist low season and this is probably the best time to visit Orhid. At times there was a mist on the nearby hills and snow on higher mountains. We enjoyed walking around the quiet streets, yet I bet in July this town is not very quiet at all with the tourist masses! As we wandered around Pugz thought that at times the shore and town had some sense of being at the seaside! Yet, I understand what he meant as the lake is so wide that we could not see the opposite shore and at times the lake looked choppy!

We also did the normal rest day stuff such as hand washing(done by me as Pugz had a bad hand), looking for jobs, and eating! The next day we set off to Bitola.

Ohrid to Bitola -81km
The frist section of the road to Bitola was very pleasant. The sun was shining again and we both agreed that this was the best kind of cycling weather. Sunny but not scorching and it was not raining. We rode through a quiet valley which had many small patches of woodland and farmland. There were a number of signs pointing to small churches, up unsealed roads and we saw many birds of prey. Our road took us on a steady gentle climb to the end of the valley and then took us up a steep section of about 2km long to get out of the little valley. Although I continue to find that all climbs on my bike are never easy, I didn't mind this one. Maybe I just have to accept that climbing is my weakness and speed is Pugz's weakness (Ha, Ha!).

We rode down the hill and passed many people selling fruit and vegetables, probably from their gardens. We soon entered a little town. We hoped to find a little restaurant but we didn't find one until a good bit outside the town. As we had our usual meat and salad, another cyclist passed by, saw our bikes and popped in to say hello.

It turned out that the other cyclist, Graydon was cycling from Mongolia and was also a teacher. He had worked in international schools for a number of years. He told me not to give up with my job hunt and continue to apply for as many jobs as I can. After a chat about cycling, dogs and routes we went our separate ways. Graydon was heading on the opposite way to us and had warned us that there was still another climb to do before Bitola. It was late afternoon when we set off again. As we cycled, we had some flat ground which helped us digest our lunch! Then the second climb of the day started. It did not look like much but it was long and I think we had got tired from the first climb. It took me some time to climb to the top. Pugz was waiting for me at the top of the little hill. I think we were now at 700 metres and I was happy to see that we had some flat and down hill on our way. After taking about 1 hour to climb we sailed down the hill at speed. We saw a wonderful sunset and thought about wild camping. There were no trees, bushes or sheltered spots so we decided to head on to Bitola. The road surface was good and we even took over a lorry which was going slow, maybe because of the brakes or because of the steepness of the road. We were making good progress, but the winter evening was surrounding us and somehow we were going too fast in the dusky light and missed our turn for Bitola. We did not realise this until some kilometres after the turn. We both don't really like going back on ourselves; this time we would have go up hill to go back. I was not keen. But you would think by now we would have more sense about cycling in the dark!

Our map showed us that there was another turn to Bitola further down the hill. We headed for that. Well, the dusk came and went. We were no longer admiring winter light. It was a cloudy evening so there was no moonlight nor street lights. We were in the countryside and there just seemed to be darkness all around us. Our bike lights looked so feeble in the darkness. We even had to go through a short tunnel. I was becoming more afraid. Lorries and trucks were on the road too. Even though we were wearing high-visibility vests and had lights, it was clear that many did not see us until the last minute. Dogs barked around us and I could not see them. I knew that if I could not see well, how was Pugz managing? He has quite poor eyesight at the best of times. We were still going flat/down hill at this stage so were still travelling faster than normal. We decided that we should only go 15kmph.
Finally we could see the other turn in the distance, but it still took us some minutes to reach the turn. There were no road markings on the road. The white line on the side of the road, which we both used as a guide to where the road was also gone. After some effort of trying to cycle along the side on the road, we gave up and walked the last 4 km into the first set of streetlights of the town. We both agreed that it was just too dangerous. Adrian needed a fag and I was glad that it was not raining.

After that little adventure we were both in no mood to hunt down a bargain room. We were in the centre and found a little bed and breakfast. Pugz managed to work up the energy to bargain the price down, but to be honest we were just so glad about finally getting to Bitola.

That evening we took a little stroll around the town and discovered two bike shops! we also found the road we needed to take to Greece. We also went to an internet cafe and the guy next to us was looking very bored as he browsed through pictures of sexy ladies in underwear. Nice.
The next day we set off towards Greece. The road was flat so we made good headway and also worked up an appetite, so we stopped and spent the last of our macedonian money on bread, chocolate and Halva!

On we went towards the border and crossed over into Greece. The ride took us along quite an empty road at first, even though the road was meant to be a main route. We had been riding for some time and we had noticed that the road was getting busier. We decided to try and find a place to eat lunch. It was not raining so we wanted to have a picnic, but could not find a suitable place. We ended up in a field, eating our picnic and it was quite nice too!

We only had a small taste of Macedonia and would like to explore the country more some day.

Photos from Adrian's camera

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Looking up at Triglav, from Vrscic pass, Slovenia
















Haystacks near Bihac, Bosnia
















Croatian coast, just west of Bosnian border




















Sunset viewed from Dubrovnik, Croatia
















Dubrovnik, viewed as we climbed the grueling hill out of the city














View up the Fjord near Kotor, Montenegro
















Ais climbing the many steps up the hillfort at Kotor, Montenegro




















Communist era bunker and distant snowcapped peaks on the road from Tirana to Elbassan, Albania

Albania

We left Dobro Voda in Montenegro on (yet another) a wet day. Just before the Albanian border, we got a small taste of what was coming: we stopped for a coffee in a little cafe and there was a power cut. Luckily, we arrived just beforehand so we were the only customers who actually got a hot drink. We crossed the border without any difficulties and to our great surprise, the road surface actually improved (all the stories we had heard were that Albanian roads were awful).

The first impressions of Albania were the commnist era bunkers (small concrete domes outside each house) and the piles of rubbish, lots of rubbish, especially on riverbanks. Lots of houses seem to have high walls and fences around them. The people seemed friendly though - lots of kids running alongside us and old men on bikes giving us a nod as they passed by.

Approaching the town of Shkoder we went through what seemed a very poor area (even more rubbish than everywhere else, very poor housing, raggy looking people and a few beggers). We were a little bit on our guard when we had to wait there in the traffic queue to get across the narrow bridge, but people were still friendly and one guy acted as a human signpost, pointing and saying "this way Tirana, that way Shkoder". The bridge was a bit scary, slippery wet wooden planks, but we managed it.

When we arrived in Shkoder we searched around for hotels. One "posh-looking" hotel was 60 euro per night, so we opted for the cheaper 25 euro communist era one instead. At the time we could only find two hotels, but the next day we found more choice (always the way!). The communist era hotel was a bit grim but we grew to appreciate its character and friendly staff. It had noisy leaky crazy plumbing, power cuts, no heating, a broken TV, a saggy bed with raggy sheets, a dingy lobby and a broken lift. On the flip side, it had very nice parquet flooring, a city view, fried eggs and cheese for breakfast, and free tea whenever we asked for it. The chamber maid was very kind and found us an electric heater when she saw that we were trying to dry out washing (which was hanging on bungies all over the room). She gave us very specific instructions (in Albanian, with sign language) that we must always unplug the heater at night and when we went out - if you saw the heater, you would understand why! She also helped us put the tent out to dry on a balcony. The other staff were also friendly and could usually be found playing cards or dominos in the lobby.

Pugz was a bit ill on our rest day. A brief return of the French tummy trouble, swollen tonsils and a fever, which fortunately went away quite quickly but turned into a cold. He stayed in bed for the day and Ais looked after him bringing him tea and cuddles. We stayed an extra day to give Pugz time to get better. We walked around the town briefly in between the almost continuous rain showers. The town has a nice friendly feel, but doesn't really have any particular "sights" (there is a castle, but thats out of town a bit). We did enjoy a couple of meals out though, one in the "posh-looking" hotel and one in a tiny cafe (the latter was only 2 euro each for very tasty rice and stew). Ais was amazed how the women of the town could walk around glamorously in high heels along the potholes pavements without getting wet feet or broken ankles.

We left Shkoder like we had arrived - in the rain. The ride to the next town (Lezhe) was fairly short and flat so we arrived quite early, which gave us a chance to look around town in the afternoon. We visited the towns archeaological site and the tomb and statue of Albanian hero Skenderberg.

The ride from Lezhe to Tirana was the first dry(ish) day we had had for a very long time. Going was good on the flat and we even had a few kilometers ride on the new motorway (which wasn't open to the other traffic). Unfortunatly the motorway roadworks turned into rough dirt for a while which covered the bikes in mud but would have been much worse if it had been raining. As with any big city we arrive at, the traffic on the road into town was a bit crazy, but once again we survived! We usually find it best to just walk the bikes around when we reach the centre so that we can concentrate on looking for somewhere to stay without having to worry to much about the traffic. On the subject of traffic, one cannot help noticing that in Albania, a lot of cars have European registration plates (lots of British and German), we guess this is probably migrant workers who buy cars abroad, although Albania was famous in the 1990s for collecting stolen cars.

We stayed at the backpackers hostel in Tirana, which was a nice change from hotels and apartments. We met a lot of other travellers there and it was nice to have other people to talk to: severeal aussie backpackers (two of whom were girls travelling alone), a very talkative pot-smoking guy from the Faroe islands, an English guy who owned a backpacker hostel in Montenegro, an american guy, and the kindly Albanian hostel manager, Robbo. We only stayed two nights in Tirana which was just enough time for a walking tour of the city (in the sunshine, hoorah!), some bike maintenance (wheel bearings and brakes), and doing our washing (oh the joy of a washing machine for a change)!

The ride out of Tirana started well (uphill, but in the sunshine) but was rudely interupted by Pugz's gear cable snapping. We stopped next to a Police checkpoint whilst Pugz repaired it and the policemen tried to chat with Ais. She also spent some time observing the police check point and noticed that when one of the big jeeps with foreign plates pulled over and the driver got out, that there was a hand gun tucked into his trousers. He and the police were very friendly, he must have been a Albanian Big Man. The rest of the ride took us up, along, and back down a big mountain. The ride up was hard going and neccesitated a stop for a grilled meat dinner at a restaurant on the way. Ais alsonoticed that some of the meneating at the restaurant also had hand guns.
Pugz was also given some more Sharon fruit, this time by a mechanic who shouted to us as we passed his garage. A late start, the bike repairs, and the lunching, meant that we caught a beautiful sunset at the top of the mountain. What happens after sunset? Duhhhhhh it gets dark. We took the downhill VERY slowly but still almost had a collision with a donkey ladden with sticks. We were very glad to arrive safely at a little hotel on the outskirts of the town of Elbasan.

We didn't have any time to sight-see Elbasan (it seemed quite industrial anyway) but we did stop for a nice kebab breakfast and bought some very sickly baklava and some oranges in the shop next door. The shop man kindly gave us some more Sharon fruit (for free). A nice gesture, but there is only so much Sharon fruit that we can carry and/or eat! The ride out of Elbasan was pretty, following a river but hilly up and down and rather tiring. We stopped for a coffee (Pugz had 2!) in a nice little cafe where the women owner and her kids invited us up onto the roof so we could see the view of the old Byzantine bridge over the river and also take photos of their communist era concrete bunker. We talked to the kids practising their English. They wanted us to walk down to the bridge with them but we didn't have enough time (we didn't want to risk riding in the dark again!). A little later on, we were chased by a very angry dog which escaped from a scrapyard and bit Pugz's pannier bag (he missed Pugz's wildly flailing leg which was trying to kick its head).

We stopped for the night at a small town called Prenjas, about 10km from the Macedonian border. The town seemed run down and had a lot of derelict factory buildings. We started to worry that there wouldn't be a hotel there, but then saw a sign for one. It turned out to be a travel hotel attached to a petrol station but was really very nice. It had a big room which was very clean and new, complete with leopard-print blankets, a very comfortable bed and.... a BATH. ahhhhh. We watched TV in bed for the evening (crappy films in English, but with Albanian subtitles) and were amused by the Albanian TV adverts.

The next day we set out quite early, heading up the mountain to the Macedonia border. Pugz overtook Ais on the hill then had a stupid accident whilst he was trying to wave to Ais. He rode into a ditch and scraped himslef along a concrete wall. It wasn't as bad as it sounds though, he just grazed his arm and took a small chunk out of his hand. Shortly after Ais had found the first aid kit and put on a plaster, two other cycle tourists came down the hill towards us. They were Spanish, on there way home from Mongolia! We chatted a while, but had to go our separate directions. At the top of the hill we spent the last of our Albania money in a cafe and shop (part of a very posh looking hotel complex). At the border post we were chased by dogs again and then had to queue for a while at the border. Goodbye Albania, I hope we can return again sometime soon!

The Montenegro Coast Part 2

After leaving the dirty apartments, we made the short ride to Kotor. This time Manuel and Derya looked for a place to stay for us. Ais and Pugz placed a bet with each other: Ais saying that the others would find a great place for 20 -25 euros and Pugz saying that yes, they would find a place in the town but we would have to pay 30 euros plus. The stakes were high - a cup of coffee was the winning bet prize!

Manuel and Derya found some nice rooms with an older woman for 30 euros. So Ais owed Pugz a coffee in a cafe! The rooms were much better and had heating! The woman was very kind to us. She made us coffee in the morning and allowed the others to use the washing machine, free of charge. Manuel had a laptop with him and could use the house wireless connection. We settled in for a day's sight seeing. We could also cook there which helped the budget. (That kept Ais happy!)

We walked up to the fort at the top of a hill edge and had a great view over the fjord. We spent some time exploring the fort, as it had various usage over the years, right up to the Second World War. We also spent time exploring the small atmospheric streets of the old town.

We left Derya and Manuel the next day as we were getting worried about our timescale. We hoped to meet Pugz' brother in Istanbul on 19th December and as far as we were concerned, we were a long way from Istanbul.

So although the weather was not at all pleasant, (windy and wet, our favourite!) we decided to head on. Derya and Manuel decided to sit out the bad weather and Ais was just feeling a little jealous of their warm, dry room!

We started the ride out of Kotor through a 1.5km tunnel. Despite the tunnel not being so long really, we were a little worried. It was slightly uphill and tunnels always seem loud and dark places. It is difficult to judge the size and speed of vehicles coming behind you and the road in tunnels are always narrow. Thankfully, everything went ok on our ride through this tunnel.

The ride was uneventful and the rain held off. We only had a few rain showers. However, the road we cycled along had so much rubbish along it. Not only litter, but builder's rubble too. This disappointed Ais as she had seen numerous adverts on CNN about Montenegro and its 'wild beauty'. Unfortunately, the 'wild beauty' is not along the coast. It is much more built up than we thought. There were many bilboards along the coast advertising 'land for sale', 'houses for sale' and adverts for Italian, Irish and English developers. Maybe this is how Spain was in the 1960s.

We stopped in a small town called Petrovac and were surprised to find that many of the houses advertised 'Rooms' but no one was interested in letting us have a room in November! I think everyone had closed up their rooms for the winter and were not interested in opening them up for one night only. We finally found a man who did motorbike touring and had apartments to rent. He didn't mind that we were staying only one night and repeatedly told us that we were 'crazy to cycle the whole way to Istanbul'. He was clearly interested and got out a map of the Balkans to show us where he had gone on his motorbike. He then gave us the map! We had been searching for a map of Albania with little luck, as ours had a scale which was a bit too big. Yet here, someone was just handing over a map. Although it was of similar scale to what we had, we appreciated the map as it had some smaller roads on it and as we had learned on this trip, two maps are always better than one!

Then came the day of the rain (or floods, I should say!) We set off as normal. It was still windy and drizzly, but what is a little drizzle to us at this stage! We even decided against wearing our waterproofs as we always get too hot. But about an hour into the ride the rain got heavier and we stopped to put on our waterproofs.

As we were doing this, a man approached us with a bag of Sharon fruit (expensive in England, rotting in the trees here!) I thought he was trying to sell us some and I really did not want them so I was a bit cold towards the man. But eventually, through Pugz' Italian and sign language and the man's few English words, we worked out that he was giving us the fruit and that they needed seven more days to ripen in the sun. I did feel bad about giving him the cold shoulder.

We proceeded to cycle on in the rain and heard thunder too. Then the Heavens opened and we had to stop as the rain was so heavy. Cars and lorries were even driving very slow as no-one could see very far. The surface water quıckly formed small streams at the sıde of the road.

We hung around in a little shop and when the rain eased off we rode to a cafe for a long lunch and to try and dry off. But that rain kept coming. After an hour of indecision we left our little cafe and rode on in the rain, trying to convince ourselves that it was not really that bad and we were quite wet already. But to be honest, it is times like this that my idea of an adventurous challenge becomes hazy and WHY AM I DOING THIS! is in my head so much more.

We plodded on to a town called Bar and only passed scruffy looking room signs. It was still light and we went on. But darkness quıckly caught up wıth us. We had to make a decision to ride on or turn back to Bar, whıch we had passed through 10km ago. We were not keen to go back 10km and both agreed to cycle on. All this time it had been raining and now drains were blocked wıth leaves and rubbish and the water was forming lıttle lakes in the road. People's driving was gettıng hazardous as they grew more frustrated. We had to be careful as we cycled through any puddle as many drains did not have a cover. We continued to cycle through the growıng streams on the side of the road and then had to climb up a long hill to get to a village, where we hoped to fınd accomondation. On the hill dragged and we were willing to pay anything to stay anywhere. Finally in the little village called Dobra Voda (Good Water) we found a workmans type hostel and gladly paıd 20 euros for a room. We set about trying to dry our stuff ın the room with no heater and were very disappointed to fınd that even though we were both exhausted we had only cycled 31km that day!

The next day we set off in our damp stuff to Albania.

Photos from Aisling's camera

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Ironwork sculpture at Kropa, Slovenia




















The dragon bridge, in Ljubljiana, Slovenia

Pugz on his bike near the market in Ljubljiana, Slovenia




















Autumn colours, Plitvica national park, Croatia














Fish in one of the many lakes at Plitvica national park, Croatia














Plitvica national park, Croatia














A Salamander in the forest at Plitvica national park, Croatia














The huge waterfall at Jajce, Bosnia-Hercegovina

The roofscape over Jajce, Bosnia-Hercegovina

Simo and family (and a few neighbours), Kiseljack, Bosnia-Hercegovina

Austro-hungarian buildings in Sarajevo, Bosnia-Hercegovina
(where the 1st world war started, when Franz Ferdinand was shot)

Cycling in Sarajevo, Bosnia-Hercegovina.
This sculpture describes how we felt trying to ride into the city!

The beautiful (downhill!) road from Sarajevo to Mostar, Bosnia-Hercegovina

The old bridge at Mostar, Bosnia-Hercegovina

Derelict building in Mostar, Bosnia-Hercegovina
(clearly damaged by 1990's shelling, nature makes it seem an older ruin)

Dubrovnik harbour, Croatia

Ais and Pugz, overlooking the harbour at Dubrovnik, Croatia














Manuel, Derya and Pugz on the ferry to Kotor, Montenegro
(this was a FREE car ferry, so we weren't cheating, honest!)

The Montenegro coast Part 1

Molunat - Herceg Novi 29km

As we rode towards the Montenegrin border in sunshine, with Derya and Manuel, we had not gone very far when Adrian noticed that something was wrong with his wheel. Something serious. The wheel rim had actually worn through and cracked. It kept catching on his brake pad and made cycling very difficult and dangerous. Manuel and Derya could have rode on, but stayed with us, keeping Adrian's temper down as he did not want to have a temper tantrum in front of them and he could have a number of social cigarettes with them, to keep him calm (Thank you M&D!). And it was a Sunday. No bike shops would be open, even if we found one. We hoped we could find something in the small town of Herceg Novi.

After very slow progress and a very sour border guard we reached the Montenegro town of Herceg Novi. After no calls of Hello! or waves/beeps of support in Croatia, we had just entered the town and a man called HELLO! and waved. Manuel was so happy, as we all were, to be in a country that had not yet been dulled by the stream of tourists coming through! We had often discussed this with Manuel and Derya, and with other tourists. The travel experience changes so much as more travellers and tourists come by. People get more unfriendly and only see you as another way to earn euros. We all had less calls of "Hello!" and "Where are you going?" in Croatia than in the other countries we had cycled through.

We had some trouble finding a campsite in Herceg Novi and after a wandering around the town, we found a very sad little campsite. It may have been very pleasant once but its hey day was well and truly over. None of us wanted to use the very dirty shower block and the toilets were grimey and covered with cobwebs. Yet, the old man who ran it was so helpful and when he heard about Pugz' wheel he first told us where to find a repair workshop and then later arranged for the repair workshop man to come to us, at the campsite.

The next day the repair man came and had a look at the bike. It was decided that Pugz should go with the man to a kind of Flea market. There, Pugz managed to find a wheel which would suit his bike. The man did not charge Pugz for taking him to the Flea market and Pugz was happy with a wheel for 25 euros. He still had to rebuild the wheel as it had the wrong sort of hub. Isn't Pugz very clever!

That night rain had returned with a vengence and nearly flooded the campsite. We all went into a manky shed, which was at one time, the kitchen. We sat in there, on a strange collection of old school and garden furniture, some of which were covered with carpet (probably second hand carpet too. Oh, the stories it could tell!). Then the rain just stopped and after about half hour of indecision, we quickly packed up and went. We wanted to get to Kotor. It sounded really pretty in our Lonely Planet and from on what we saw on TV. So, after the nice old man said "Pay what you want." We paid 10 euros and headed off.

Herceg Novi to Kotor - 26km

We were getting quite lazy with short rides! We rode to Kotor with Derya and Manuel. Kotor is situated in a beautiful fjord, surrounded by small, steep hills. We took the short (2km) ferry ride and approached Kotor via the 'back way' thus avoiding a busy main road.

As we approached the town itself we cycled past other small villages, along the shoreline. We stopped for a rest and a fag/chocolate and a taxi driver pulled up and asked us if we needed a place to stay. Ais spoke to him and repeatly asked him about a washing machine. He repeatly said 'No problem!' although his wife was extremely cool towards us. But Ais ignored her. Ais and Pugz went to check out the apartment and Derya and Manuel stayed with the bikes.

We thought at first glance that the apartments were ok, if quite dated. So we agreed to the price of 20 euros a night, washing machine included. Ais asked grumpy wife about a heater as there was no heating in the little apartments. She snorted. "You only pay 10 euros! No heater!" This should have set off alarm bells ringing in Ais's head that grumpy wife was a money grabbing cow!

We went back to get the others and the bikes and rode back to the apartments. I forgot to say about the VERY steep hill that was only about 400 metres long but we needed to work together to push the bikes up it!

When Derya and Manuel saw the apartments, they were a little surprised. "You want to pay 20 euros for this?!" Derya asked Ais. Ais then noticed no toilet paper or towels, the toilet was dirty and there was only one blanket on the bed. Derya and Manuel showed Ais some pictures of places they stayed in for 20 euros. And WOW, those two know how to find really nice apartments. Ais was feeling just a little bit ripped off. But more was to come. We then decided that we would not stay there for two nights, that we would leave the next morning. So Pugz went to the family house to collect the washing. The daughter who spoke excellent English told him that there was a misunderstanding and the use of the washing machine was NOT included in the price of the apartment. Pugz was not happy. We had asked a number of times about this and were told "No problem!" The daughter said "You can't get that for 10 euros!" Pugz said "We are paying 20 euros!" and the family started discussing the situation among themselves. Pugz walked away. We all agreed that although 20 euros may be the going rate for apartments, the apartments should be clean and we should not end up feeling that the owners are trying to get every last euro out of us. The whole situation made us feel a little uncomfortable. Montenegro is a relatively poor country, but these people were not poor. They lived in a modern house and earlier, the taxi driver had pointed out other apartments he owned.

Manuel told us not to trust people who continuely say "no problem!" and we have learned a few tricks about bargaining from our German friends too.

Along the Coast of Croatia

27 October -Neum to Dubrovnik 75km

After our lovely ride down to the coast from Mostar we crossed the borders of Bosnia and Croatia a couple of times in a couple of days. Two interesting things happened on the ride. One involved a Croatian border guard who told Ais something about his family tree when he saw her Irish passport (the power of Irish passports, they are just so much better!). The Guard told Ais that his Grandmother was from Derry - the town close to where Ais grew up. He continued by saying, "And after Collins betrayed Ireland and De Velera, her family who were all Republican, went to America, where she met my Grandfather.' Pugz and Ais are sure that they met at Mass! Ais's history is a little rusty but she is sure Collins was set up to fail when dealing with the English government, but maybe that was just in the film.

The Guard asked Pugz if he was Irish too and Pugz said no. "Oh you are not Irish anymore!" the guard said to Ais. "I am!" she cried back. "But in this country when the woman is married she becomes the same as her husband" the guard told Ais. We just laughed, waved and rode on but Ais was not impressed! Lucky for Ais she doesn'tl ive in Croatia!

We stopped in a small town for a cafe lunch. We guessed that in the summer the little place would be heaving with tourists but that day it was very quiet. We found a nice place and ordered our food. As we were eating a big old Range Rover pulled in. It was loaded with all kinds of stuff inside and out. It had a scrambler motorbike on the back and it looked quite hard core and road weary. Out jump a young, skinny man and a older man who had an ecentric air about him. We noticed that they were French by their registration plate and of course that they talked French. This might be the best opportunity to get rid of the 500gr gas canister, from France! We worked up the nerve to talk to them. Or rather, Pugz practised his French before going over. When Pugz went over the younger man could speak English and they said they would take the gas canister! HURRAY! Ais has a little less weight and a little more space.

We spent some time talking to them and found out that the older man (Jon) was a well-travelled journalist/photographer and the younger man (Oliver) was his assistant. They were travelling around the coast of the Med, for a book Jon was putting together. Both were a little unkept and definitely a little ecentric. Jon told us how they often wild camp and only go to campsites when they need to shower. We all agreed that campsites were often overpriced. Pugz found it
amusing that the men were eating big lunches with wine etc. whilst complaining about the price of campsites. But Ais and Pugz agree that we too prefer food over accomodation.
The men said that they were heading towards Istanbul and were trying to decide to take a detour to Sarjevo. We recomended that they should go to Sarajevo, even for the drive through the gorge. We said our goodbyes and as they drove off, we saw the gas canister on the table! Luckily, they came back for it after a few minutes and Ais happily waved 'bye' to that gas canisiter.

So we headed on to Dubrovnik after lunch and as we approached the town the coast road became very narrow in places but the traffic was getting busier. Many vehicles did not give us space and finally a bus tried to overtake us as the car coming coming towards us tried to overtake a parked car. The bus just tipped Ais's rear bags and knocked her off balance,trapping her, in a standing postion between the bus and a crash barrier. Her bike had fallen just by the back wheel. Needless to say everyone was quite shaken up. Ais was shaking more after this crash than the helmet cracking crash in Bosnia. No one could really communicate properly with each other but Ais appreciated that the bus driver could have just driven off but he didn't. And some other nice people stopped to see if she was ok. Pugz, being the knight in shining armour that he is, spent some time explaining to the bus driver through sign language to give bikes space and to slow down.

Once again Ais had a big bruise on her leg and a BIG knock to her road confidence. Over the following few weeks she often had to pull in if she felt at all trapped and crash barriers still make her feel uneasy. However, it is better than falling down the hillside!

At the very expensive Dubrovnik campsite we met a german couple, Derya and Manuel. They were cycling around the world and were on their way to Istanbul too. After living and working like mad things in Bangladesh for a few years, they had saved up enough money and sold most of their belongings to take off for a while. Like many other cyclists that we have met on our trips, they eat less, sleep less and take less days off than us. They are faster and cycle further than us too. We are clearly the soft version of long distance cyclists!

Days off in Dubrovnik

We spent the day with Derya and Manuel, exploring the old walled town. The place is clearly geared up for lots of tourists but as it was the end of October there was only one cruise ship docked up. (Thank God). It is a very pretty town in a picturesque setting but there are prices to match, including the campsite.

When we returned to the campsite the French guys were there. We all had a moan about the price of the campsite and the fact that there were building works going on from 7am, so the campsite was not its usual high standard. Jon, the older French man, suggested that we all go together and complain. It is better than just complaining to each other. So later, Pugz and I, Jon and Oliver all went to the office and I politely told the woman how upset we were that we came to the campsite to relax and no one warned us about the building works etc. Can you believe that this worked? We got 30% off our price and a night free. All thanks to Jon giving us encouragement to believe that sometimes a polite complaint does work!

The next day we explored the everyday parts of town alone as the hunt for bike parts continues. This is an annoying part of our trip, however we always get a good overview of the towns as we cycle around. We can say that the modern part of Dubrovnik is quite pleasant. Yet central Croatia seemed to have quite a bit of poverty to us. There was a marked contrast in the amount of visitors that the coast seemed to get and the wealth it seemed to have when compared to central Croatia.

On to Molunat - 46km

Derya and Manuel had left the previous day. We were hoping to meet up with them in a well advertised campsite about 50 km on.

The climb out of Dubrovnik was a tough little hill and the challenge was increased to Ais getting stressed about going on the narrow coast road with the local buses again. In the end, Pugz offered patience and support by stopping alot and shouting a warning when a bus or other big vehicle came along. Then we were back on our wider main road for a stretch. Pugz suggested taking a little back road which we did. Soon we were surrounded by olive groves and people mantaining them, shrubs and various types of trees. It was warm and although the ride was very hilly, it was really wonderful. We saw a old man and a little boy making rakia. We smelled so many different scents from the plants in the air and had amazing sea views at times. There was little traffic and no scary dogs about. It was Perfect!

We met up with Derya and Manuel in Camp Monika, the well advertised campsite and it was a little disappointing. Rough ground and one hot shower. Luckily we were the only people there so the one hot shower was not really a big deal. Sadly, Manuel and Derya's tent was a little vandlised by some cheeky brats in the village. Fortunately nothing was taken or broken but those kids made a mess.
However, Pugz has done a lot of camping at music festivals and with friends and families. He has rarely heard of this happening, so please don't let this incident put any of you off camping. But do watch out for bratty kids.

After a evening sitting in our tent talking to Manuel and Derya, we all set off the next day to the Montenergo border.

Sarajevo to the sea

We left Sarajevo on a sunny day, riding along the river as far as we could go before we inevitably hit the main trunk road again (the same one we were on in the rain on the way into the city). It wasn't so bad this time with better weather and less traffic. Most of the day was uneventful, other than the usual burek stop, a lunch stop and a wee stop at a supermarket.

We arrived at the town of Konjic in good time to have a brief look around the town and find a hotel (there only seemed to be one). The town has a pretty Ottoman bridge (recently refurbished, funded by the Turkish government) and a few old mosques. The hotel seemed friendly, if a little expensive at 35 Euro, but turned out to be a nightmare.

Our first mistake was to pay for the hotel up front. We then found that there was no hot water and the guy looking after the place couldn't get the boiler working and he "couldn't give us a refund or discount" but he did find us a fan heater. We seemed to be the only guests in the hotel until we went to bed and heard a few people downstairs. Then the music started... The guy looking after the place had a load of his mates round for a party in the hotel lobby. We guess the beer was part-funded by what we had payed him. The music was loud, people kept trying to open our door (seemingly by mistake, because he had left the room next to ours unlocked for people to use the toilet, and perhaps the bed?). We lay half awake grumpily most of the night worrying about our bikes which were locked up in the lobby. The whole event ended in some kind of fight at about 4am, complete with the sound of shouting and breaking glass. There was no evidence of mess or corpses when we came downstairs in the morning and the bikes were thankfully unharmed!

We were happy to leave Konjic after such a terrible night's sleep and we were glad it was downhill. The ride turned out to be through a beautiful gorge, following a river all the way to Mostar in the sunshine. We stopped for an omlete at a posh roadside restaurant where we were a little confused about the time (is this a late breakfast or an early lunch?) until we realised that the clocks had gone back (breakfast it is then, our second one).

Mostar was very enjoyable. We arrived in time for a tasty late lunch of grilled trout and squid, sat by the river in the old town overlooking the famous Mostar bridge. We found a good little apartment next to the restaurant for 30 Euro per night. We enjoyed having a kitchen to cook our own food for a change (risotto, mmm) and williningly shared some of our excessive quantity of Rakia* with an American couple who were staying in the neighbouring apartment.

(* what is Rakia I hear you ask? See blog post about journey to Sarajevo for further details)

Our sight seeing day-and-a-half in Mostar included walking over the old bridge and around the mosques and markets. We were in desparate need of new brake-blocks and chains so we also spent a fair amount of time looking for bike shops. The first shop we visited was a motorbike dealer who, proudly showed Adrian around his new house and then explained where a bikeshop was. The "bikeshop" was a man in a shed in the city centre who didn't have any brakeblocks or chains, but he did have a second-hand bearing and some grease for Adrian's headset. The third shop we tried was an out-of-town homeware store which sold bikes but not parts. The shop assistant helpfully told us where a bike shop was, back in the town, and we ended up cycling in the dark (which was scary) only to find it closed. The next morning Adrian tried the fourth shop (3 men, in a slightly bigger shed this time). He struggling to communicate with the men in a strange mixture of Serb-Croat, German and English, but managed to have a pleasant chat and succeeded in buying 12 brakeblocks and 2 chains for 20 Euros - a bargain, even though the brake blocks do wear quite quickly.

In the process of bike-shop hunting, we found the front-line from the 1990's war. The shattered concrete and steel wrecked buildings were a stark contrast to the carefully restored "old" area of the city. At the start of the war the Serbs shelled the city (which was mostly Bosnian and Croat population) but later the Bosnians and Croats fought each other and blew up the old bridge in the process. The whole city, both old and new, was absolutely trashed by the end of the war. Now however, compared to the video and exhibits we saw in the Hercegovina museum, the city is generally in quite good shape. This is mostly due to the rebuilding work but nature has also played its part for some of the older buildings by desguising the war damage with ivy and shrubs.

From Mostar, we coninued with the sunny weather and downhill/flat riding all the way to the Bosnian coastline at the town of Neum. Owning to the crazy post-war borders, the main road from Mostar to Neum takes you into Croatia for 20km (so two border crossings). This can be avoided by going on a back-road, but this looked unneccesarilly hilly! Neum is a small seaside resort town, not very special except that it is Bosnia's only bit of coast (only about 15 km long). Nevertheless, we had a pleasant evening stroll around the town, stayed in a nice 25 Euro apartment, and had a tasty fish meal (the budget is taking a hammering, we really must stop eating in restaurants...)

Note to anyone planning to cycle in this area: The ride from Sarajevo to the sea via Mostar is very nice and comes highly recommended. However, riding in the opposite direction (from Mostar to Sarajevo) would be very hard going, almost constantly uphill for two days! Mostar clearly attracts a lot of visitors (even when we were there in October) and is perhaps best avoided in summer.

Sarajevo

The ride in to Sarajevo was HELL. Rain, snow and strong wind whilst we cycled along what was essentially a 6-lane motorway without a hard-shoulder. Needless to say, we cycled on the footpath whenever there was one, despite the annoyance of really high kerbs and huge puddles. We stopped for a very late much needed lunch in a burger restaurant called "big ben". Cold and sopping wet again. The lunch was so late that it was dark by the time we finished. We struggled shivering through the streets of Sarajevo looking for a room. Streets always look much more seedy and crime-ridden in the dark. We checked out a few hotels and hostels but could not find a room with a washing machine and some space for the bikes. We ended up settling for the cheapest we could find (30 Euro) with space for the bikes and a handy internet cafe downstairs. It was quite a grotty room and we used our sleeping bag liners just in case there were bed bugs.

It was really handy staying in a room above an internet cafe, but it reeked from the amount of people smoking! During the day the cafe seemed to be a hangout for twenty-somethings playing shoot'em-up computer games and smoking. During the evening it was a louge for old men playing chess, watching football on TV and of course, smoking. Ais hated the smoke, Pugz bought a pack of fags.

Oh how we miss washing machines! Hand-washing 4 days worth of stinky cycling clothes in a bath (or a shower tray) really is no fun. The hardest thing is wringing out the clothes and finding somewhere to dry them. Our room in Sarajevo was quite small but we managed to string up all our clothes in the room using bungees and tent poles and spread out the tent over the beds to dry (sorry about the mud all over the floor)!

Our 4 days in Sarajevo were spent with a mixture of sight-seeing, culture and job-hunting on the internet. Cultural activities included:

• Cinema to watch District 9 (in English). We couldn't understand what the prawns were saying because the serb-croat subtitles covered over the english subtitles (this will mean nothing to you unless you have seen the film).


• Theatre festival to watch a Croatian play at the national theatre. Tickets were only 10 KM each (5 Euro) and we got very good seats, but we couldn't understand the play! It was something about 2 brothers, 2 sisters, their parents, sex, marriage, and a priest. Very colourful costumes, lots of diaglogue, shouting, wailing, sex, arguing and a wedding dress maker who winched up and down above the stage on wires.


• Eating many Bureks, Kebabs (Daddy Pugsley asked what Burek was, he would definitely like one: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Burek


• Eating cakes (usually creamy sponge things that look better than they taste, but also nice baklava) and drinking Bosanski coffee (which is a bit like turkish coffee).


• National museum and history museum. Of particular interest:
  - exhibit showing how the borders of Bosnia had been defined over the century.
  - ancient archiological findings from around bosnia, including amazing Byzantine mosaics.
  - Titos batons http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Relay_of_Youth
  - Sarajevo during the Siege of 1992-95.

Yes, Sarajevo was under siege for 3 years during the 1990's, surrounded by Serbian snipers and artillery which was hidden in the forested hills overlooking Sarajevo river valley. This is utterly amazing when you think that the city is so close to home (we cycled there!). How is it possible that the world powers allowed this to happen for 3 years? They supplied humanitarian aid, but waited 2 and a half years before ending the siege by using airstrikes on the serbs.

A siege is something you hear about from medeaval times, not at the end of the 20th century! The museum exibit painted a really good picture of how life must have been for the Sarajevans during the siege. One display proudly shows how, despite many deaths, injuries, and having no water/electricity/phone for weeks, and factories being bombed, the Sarajevo cigarette factory managed to keep running throughout the whole siege (this was probably crucial for morale but is perhaps one reason why people here seem to smoke so much).

It is now 15 years after the war and many of the buildings are new or being rebuilt but the older buildings all still show the scars of mortar attacks, as do some of the roads and pavements. From the people you meet, there is little or no trace of the war though. Sarajevo is a vibrant and friendly city, full of life and activity. It feels very safe (except perhaps for the traffic).

The ride out of Sarajevo was much better than the ride in. There was no rain and we managed to find a path along the river which greatly shortened the amount of time we had to spend on the scary main road.

Through Bosina to Sarajevo

15 October - Kljuc to Jajce approx 57km
Before we reached Jajce, we had an overnight stop in Klujc. We really got a nice feeling about this town after our initial impressions of Bosnia. Ais had a bad experience whilst cycling in the cold. She was wearing gloves which had got wet during the ride and as we descended down a long hill, her hands got so cold that she could not work her brakes properly. So she pulled over at a little supermarket and then felt ill. So she ran away from Pugz as he locked the bikes and hid somewhere in the little supermarket. There, she tried to take off her wet gloves but it hurt so much that she felt faint. Once her gloves were off,she saw her hands were pure white. As white as her face when she throws up. She told herself to pull herself together, it is only a bit of cold, but she did not feel well at all and sat down in a quiet corner. Meanwhile Pugz was going crazy, looking for her. He did not find her little corner. So when Ais felt better she appeared before Pugz as normal and he was not happy that she ran away from him when she felt ill.He told her that she may have got mild frost bite and checked her fingers and hands for movement. They were fine but Ais was surprised how cold her hands got so quickly. It was agreed that Ais needed to get more gloves and they needed to be good quality.
After that little episode, we were so cold from the snow and sleet that we decided not to camp (once again! we are getting soft!). But where would we stay? We could not find a campsite or a place with rooms.

We had an excuse to drink lots of coffee though. This is our tactic to find a place to stay. We go into a cafe bar and ask the owner or waiter about place to sleep or camp. We were not so successful in Klujc though. We tried a couple of cafes with little success. We went into the Queen Cafe and there, one guy told us that there was a place with rooms a little outside the town. We ended up staying in the Queen Cafe for two coffees each as the cafe music was 70s & 80s rock and was very cosy.

So after getting warmed up we set off in search of the rooms. We found the house but no one was there. We waited around in the cold for about 30 minutes or so. Then started talked about going back to our Queen cafe. In the end we went to another cafe, not so far into the town and waited there with more coffee. After some time we went back to the house and YIPPEE! the owner was there. I understand if this situation does not seem so important or exciting. However. we were cold, wet and did not have much choice of places to stay or camp. We have not yet knocked on someones door to ask to camp in their garden or field and both of us feel quite shy about this. We were starting to consider this an option. That is how cold we were feeling.

The Klujc rooms were well beyond our expectations and although expensive (40 euros per night), we were so happy. The owner gave useful advice about roads and our route and was warm and friendly without being false. The rooms were not rooms but an actual mini apartment with towels, cooking facilities and a very cosy clean bed. All it needed was a washing machine to make it perfect! Apparently many people come to ski in the local area. This owner was ready for the western European high expectation for not much cost. We woke the next day feeling ready for our 15 km climb up a 7% hill (not as bad as it sounds, was actually quite nice with great views). From there, we arrived in Jajce, which we mentioned in the previous post.

17 October - Jajce to Travnik 70km
From Jajce we rode to Travnik and stayed in a low standard cheap room. We had often seen calf or lamb roasting on a split outside restaurants. It was driving Pugz crazy that he had not eaten any of this slow roasted meat and he was determined to try some before leaving Bosnia. So when we went into a restaurant and the waiter mentioned that the split roast was on. Pugz was very excited. For a total of 25 euros we got quite a feed of tender veal with potatoes, veg and bread. And because we were feeling hungry we also had starters. We were stuffed and were glad that we finally got to try the slow roasted meat!

18 October -Travnik to Kiseljak 50km (snowy)
We continued through snow and sleet towards Sarajevo. Ais once again had a bit of a mishap. Whilst riding downhill at speed, around a bend. She hit some very rough road and flew off the road and lost control. She skidded in to the gravel verge and landed in a heap. Luckily she only suffered alot of bruises and a knock to her confidence. Her cycle helmet was cracked, which made her so glad she was wearing one. The front handlebar bag was broken but after some time Pugz fixed it (there should be another post about all the things Pugz has fixed so far!). Ais got a bit of a fright and now goes no faster than 40 km per hour when the road is bad, even down hill!

After cycling on for about 20km we heard someone shouting but we didn't realise it was to us. We stopped a little up the road to take off our waterproof trousers. A car pulled over and a man jumped out. "English?, German?" He asked. We replied we were English and Irish and he asked where we were going and coming from. He told us he had called to us a little while back and wanted to invite us for coffee. We went with him and found out his name was Simo. He was not Bosnian, but a Croatian (in other words, Catholic). He invited us to sleep in his garage and told us the next town had no accommodation. We went back to his home and there began an evening of what can only be described as amusing confusion, intense questioning, eating and crazy kids.

Ais had told Simo that she too was Catholic and back at the house she was questioned about Pugz' religion or lack of it! The religious artifacts (crucifix, holy pictures) in the home were pointed out to her and she said "Yes, my mother and father have that too!" Photos of Christmas were shown to her and she tried to explain that her family had the same too. This was met with a lot of approval and smiles. Meanwhile the many children, some of which were cousins, were shy and sulky. We never worked out exactly who was who. But after our attempts at trying to speak Serb Croat was met with laughter and thez became more and more crazy. They laughed when Ais tried to ask them if there were rats in the garage, Thez pretended to smoke fags and make faces at us. It is hard to explain everything about that evening. One moment involved us sampling homemade rakia which we think was made from plums. Ais didn't really like it and politely refused her second glass. (oh, the joys of being a 'Lady'! Pugz can't get away with a polite no thank you. He even got some the next morning!). Later in the evening, Ais was invited to go for a stroll with the other women and they went to a friend's house for coffee. Ais enjoyed some cherry juice and one of the women explained through sign language that she made rakia with cherries. Ais sampled some and like it much better. The following morning the lady appeared at Simo's house with a little plastic waterbottle of cherry rakia. Pugz got a bottle of the plum one. Over the course of the following weeks Ais had tofight Pugz from taking HER cherry rakia. Afterall it was given to HER!

Ais went to Mass with Simo and his wife the next day. The priest asked her if she was Catholic and to say a "Hail Mary" before entering the church. Simo's wife had lent Ais a clean coat which had 'true love' written on it. The Priest asked Ais "What is true love?" and as it was 7.30 in the morning Ais was in no way to think of any sensible answer and said "I don't know". The priest told her God is true love. She should have seen that one coming...

Although Ais was glad she went to Mass. It was quite an intense experience as the priest kept asking he to repeat serb croat prayers and Ais was worried about her pronucitation of serb croat and the questions kept her on her toes. And the little prayer he asked her to say everyday stayed with her.