After the brief second encounter with the Bizarro Ukrainian I thought I should head for the hills…so I left Skopje for Ohrid. Alright, really I had to meet Josje in Struga so we could then head to Ohrid.
Unfortunately the 10am bus to Ohrid didn’t stop in Struga and so I had to wait for the 11 and then take the crazy bus ride there. The mini-buses in Macedonia are something between couriers and taxis. There were no less than five instances where the bus driver stopped, something was handed to him or put in the bus and he was told where it was going. This included things like the front windshield of a car, a big stack of what appeared to be table cloths and various other folders, etc. We had a really nice, new, modern air-conditioned mini-bus, but apparently that was too nice to take to Struga and so we had to switch to an older, shittier one about 45 minutes into the trip, which put us just at the edge of Skopje.
Finally, after a lengthy 3 or so hour ride I arrived in Struga at the ultra-modern bus station. It had a ticket window, toilets and yes, even a ‘cafe.’ Of course just getting to the station was a chore as the bus driver was flabbergasted that I would want to go to such a remote place, but he finally acquiesced and dropped me off there.
After a brief wait of about 15 minutes Josje’s bus arrived all of something like 2 or 3 hours late. She had two Brits in tow, Dr. Joe and Charles Joachim Ian Talib Morgan, we just called him Charlie for short. The next several days were going to be some of the craziest days thus far which was a nice reward for doing Pristina and tolerating the Bizarro Ukrainian.
We all piled into a taxi for Ohrid and for 7 Euro he dropped us off in the center of town there…a good deal for four people. Considering that none of us knew where we were, had a map or even a clue where the hostel was, we decided that it was time to have a coffee. So we went to about the first place we saw and did just that. With some coercing we were able to get the waitress to remember where a travel agency might be so that we could get some directions and a map. It seems that in parts of the Balkans the travel agencies double as tourist info offices, sort of. We finally found out roughly where the hostel was and made our way toward it.
Along the way, we picked up a guide in the form of a persistent old man who wanted us to rent his rooms. They were cheaper 7.50 Euro a night, but slightly outside of the old town and didn’t have Internet. But still he took us to the Sunny Lake Hostel, I guess he figured he’d get some business out of the deal somehow.
Upon arrival we found out that there was only room for Friday night because on Saturday a bus of 44 Vestal virgins…er, I mean, 44 Polish Tourism and Recreation students were coming, all but one were girls of about 18. So we told the old dude to return tomorrow at noon and we’d figure something out for accommodation with him.
After getting settled in and showered up we thought that it was time to see the town. After a bit of exploring we found a pizzeria whose terrace was butt up against the lake and so we sat down and had a drink. We were so close in fact that larger waves splashing up against the wall would spray Charlie and I as we were on the nearer side of the table. Stomachs began to grumble and we thought we should go search out some dinner. Yes we were at a pizzeria but we didn’t want to eat there, we had a better plan.
Charlie was tasked with getting the fixings for dinner while the rest of us headed up to the hostel for a bit. We ran into Steve from California and he tagged along for dinner. Dinner consisted of bread, meat, cheese, washed down with beer and finished off with some chocolatey snacks. It was eaten sitting on the breaker wall that sheltered a small marina.
Josje had some ice breaker questions which ended up becoming running jokes for the weekend…but I think it’s best not to explain what “That X needs a crocodiling” means. Plus it would take far too long. Needless to say, vulgarity and hilarity were fast friends for the entire weekend.
After dinner impromptu, we thought we should check into the local night life, after all it was Friday night in a vacation hot spot. The majority of the clubs were on what I dubbed Club Row as most streets had no signs and were not really our style. In fact at Nemo, Charlie ordered a round of drinks but we had decided that the place was total crap and left before the drinks ever arrived. At another place, there was a table of locals that were far from pleased by our presence and utter lack of dancing skills. I knew this by their mirthless glares and unfriendly vibes. One more club and we were tired of it all. So we decided to ask some people walking down the street where to go. This put us on the trail of the Famous Club which we couldn’t decide was the name or if it was in fact famous.
Luckily, we ran into another group of locals who were far more friendly and told us to go with them to the Jazz Inn. Dalibor, Darko, Dani and some others took us into their group and off we went. The Jazz Inn was dark, smoky, packed and played loud music. It was perfect. This was not a place to go to be seen, this was a place for the locals to hang out and be relaxed and now worry about how much their watches cost or what name brands they were wearing. Pretty much, it was perfect. We even ran into Hostel Dude, who had checked us in, who was quite surprised that we had managed to find it.
During the course of the evening we did such classic things like dancing on the tables, making a specatacle of ourselves and eventually managing to lose everyone on the group. Quite an accomplishment considering the pub was all of 10 meters by 10 meters square. I met another group of locals Deni, his girlfriend, Vesna (the most beautiful Macedonian woman) and some others. This is in fact what caused me to lose track of the others and almost lose the Famous Green Hoodie (no worries, it’s safe).
Eventually I had to forsake my new friends and try to recover the lost ones. It turns out that Joe had had enough and had returned to the hostel to sleep soundly on the balcony couch while Josje and Charlie had met up with some people who worked at the Pink Panther Pizza and Fast Food place. They were chatting and set up camp there as they figured I’d need to wander past on my way back. I of course, did just that. In the employ of said establishment was Antonio, a young chap from Vellis. He seemed cool so he Charlie and I headed back to the Jazz Inn while Josje had had enough and staggered up the hill to the hostel.
Back at the Jazz Charlie was working on his sleeping in an upright position skills and Antonio and I were working on interrupting his training by asking him questions. Finally it was time to go and when we cracked the door on the pub we were shocked to find out that it was light and thought it best to head to bed.
Not bad for just 12 hours in town…and that’s a wrap on day one.