Macedonia - Almost

Macedonia-Almost

DAY 24

A delicious traditional breakfast of Bulgarian soft-cheese-filled-pastry saw us out of Sofia. With Mitko’s advice and plotting on the map, we decided to go south down the hilly highway to a small turn-off which would take us West to the mountains bordering Macedonia. We are going to follow the trail of Alexander the Great (also Evil and Cruel). Macedonia (FYROM= Former Yugoslavian Republic of Macedonia) is not part of the EU. Their currency is the denar. We now have a money collection of Euro, Leva, Lira, and Dollar. We were told to follow the train line. It is unique in that the train line is narrow-gauge and climbs uphill to Bansko at 927m above sea level. Bansko is internationally known for its ski slopes, hosting the World Cup Alpine Ski races and Summer Biathlons. We ride the 174kms following the train track, as it disappears into a tunnel through the mountain , we ride around and meet up again. Higher and higher. There are random wanderers on the road, small bent people dressed in black, wearing headscarves. Where are they going? Everynow and then there would be a roadside stall selling honey and Bulgarian cheese. Where did they come from? We spot some old people sitting on a bench outside their garden walls resting their heads on forked walking sticks. Bulgaria is a land of contrasts in its people and geography. The four generations from great-grandparents to toddlers have all grown up in completely different political situations. Oldest people born into communism, youngest into the open market. The ones in the middle crossing between the two. Multiple generation gaps. We had arranged to stay in a ‘homestay’ and made it just before the rain came down. We treated ourselves to a Bulgarian dinner, complete with violinists and concertina, in a museum-like restaurant.

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I’m known for re-arranging furniture and true to form, re-arranged the guest room by pushing the twin beds together. After a good night’s sleep we went to the burglar-barred shop that the owners’ run to buy our picnic lunch. We noticed that a lot of passers-by were carrying baskets of food and heading down the steep hill. We ask why and the English speaking grandson translates for his Bulgarian parents by explaining that it is Remembrance Day. Every door in the village has a photocopy A4 paper with photos of family members, died but not forgotten.  

We meet the 84 year- old great grandma and again lots of translating goes on. Just as we are about leave the old  lady hands us a packet of doughnuts. It is her Remembrance Day Gift. We pose for photos with this delightful 3-generation family. What a pleasure to have been part of their lives for 24 hours, chatting and sharing. En route out of Bansko, we buy a packet of 100 little bank bags and with a felt tip pen sort out and mark all the different currencies into their own bags. The border post of Delchevo is 92 kms away through magnificent mountain passes, curving roads that bank and swing us from one glorious view to another. We stop at the top, eat our doughnuts and throw the crumbs into the wind, remembering our friends and family, died but not forgotten. 

We get to the Macedonian border. Eezy, peezy, out of Bulgaria. We ride the bike through a hollow of muddy water (just like a sheep-dip) splayed legs held high and landed up at the border post.

Passports presented, white ‘green paper’ presented. A big nod of the head, No! We show the gmail. Another nod of the head, No!. A bit of a discussion with the chief and we are told that we can buy insurance for 55 euros. Not part of the EU, but they take Euros.  We shake our heads, No! Bulgarians nod for No, we shake.

Back through the muddy sheep dip, passports scanned again into Bulgaria. This white ’green paper’ business is a bit of a problem. We find another route to Sofia, 155kms on the fast highway. The aim is to find a print shop that has green ink. We stop for coffee and spot a print shop. They don’t understand what we want and look at our smartphone/gmail request with horror. A very big head nod, No!

On the outskirts of Sofia, we find a Big Mac, pay for coffee in order to charge our  phone’s flat battery and use their wi-fi. We phone Mitko who directs us to the nearest professional print shop. For 4 euros we get a very pale green paper print out. Oh, forget this, we can’t be bothered anymore. It’s getting late so we head for the original campsite that we found on the GARMIN on Day 22 , only 10 kms away on the other side of Sofia.  It’s a big circular route around ¾ ‘s of Sofia and up north to the campsite. Sorry, closed. What now? The next nearest campsite is another 57kms across the border in Serbia. We go.

Serbia is not part of the EU, but has been a candidate since 2012. At the border, our passports are scanned,  the white ‘green paper’ is barely glanced at. “Welcome”. They take euros. We arrive at the campsite as night falls, pitch tent and are surrounded by a gaggle of very inquisitive turkeys, peacocks and peahens and a goat.  Supper was left over spaghetti dinner out of a glass jar. We sleep well.

We toured Macedonia- Almost!

What will Day 25 bring?