Kosovo Nov 08

Kosovo, essentially the newest country in the world, was something of a wonder to us.  We had a few concerns about the safety of this recent war-torn country - we even checked the Australian Government travel website to make sure we weren´t being too foolish.  With only basic warnings however, we kept on course. So we plan to board a bus from Macedonia with a couple of Finnish travel buddies and arrive in Pristina in the evening.  

Pristina

Once again we ignore the taxis and try to walk to town, firstly checking on buses to Montenegro the following day. A friendly local/staff member assured us that buses departed almost hourly.

Having only a poor map, which did not feature either the bus station or our accommodation, we optimistically set off. We end up going only slightly in the wrong direction, thanks to a couple of helpful locals who pointed us back on course. 30 minutes later, having navigated our way along Bill Clinton Boulevard and Mother Teresa Avenue, we made it up the steep hills to our guest house. Funnily enough we´d been complaining about not get enough exercise! We sure felt those backpacks and were wondering whether someone had hidden rocks in them!

Our guest house, the only affordable place in town, is run by a retired professor, who could certainly talk. When we´d initially phoned him, he just kept saying ¨You are very welcome¨, no matter what we said. Upon arrival, we advise we´re only staying for one night (we´re on transit through to Montenegro, but we don´t tell him that) and he says that all Australians are the same, always staying only one night! Standing with our packs still on while he does the administration, in a tiny room, we were dying to take our packs off. But on and on he carried on about how much there is to see in Kosovo and how one night isn´t enough etc etc.

Finally we were shown to our rooms, in a separate house down the road. Once again, he talked and talked, repeating everything over and over. Bless! We asked him for a recommendation for dinner, thinking it would be nice to have a meal and a bottle of wine with our Finnish friends before parting our separate ways. He welcomed the opportunity to speak still more, not stopping until he´d called us a taxi and left us on the street.

Dropping us at the recommended ¨restaurant¨, we arrive at a brightly lit food hall serving everything from pizza, kebabs, burgers, cakes and bistro meals. It turned out to be quite good, despite not being quite what we´d been hoping for. Great to have western food, with rice and salad though. No alcohol though...hmmmm.

We made up for that after dinner though by bar hopping across town, discovering a number of funky little cafe/bars. Being a Sunday, we called it a night around midnight and returned home via a 2 euro taxi – much better than climbing those hills again, packs or no packs!

In the morning, we chose to get some more exercise and trekked with our packs, back to the food hall for brekkie. Then it was packs on again, for the last 1km to the bus station.....to be told that the next bus to Montenegro was 6 hours away!!! With nowhere to leave our luggage, we had to look at alternative options....and chose to catch a bus across the country, to a small town called Peja.

The bus ride was very nice, if you could look past the discarded rubbish lining the streets. We passed rolling fields and paddocks and cute little villages with aqua streams flowing from distant mountains. Interestingly, we also passed numerous damaged houses, where only the foundations and a pile of rubble remained. These houses were speckled across the countryside in what we can only assume was a result of the ethnic cleansing that took part throughout these parts.

Peja

This small town was nestled against a mountain range that was clouded over with snow clouds! Minarets speckled the skyline from the mosques throughout town, and the large bazaar was abuzz with activity. We´re pretty sure this place hadn´t changed for decades! Obviously not a tourist town, we were met with funny looks and constant staring by the locals.

Our plan was to catch a bus across the border to a town on the Montenegrin side, where we were hoping to catch another bus onto the capital. Or, try and get a direct bus to the capital from here. Our concern was that the capital – Podgorica – was ridiculously expensive, charging about 200 Euros a night.....and we were not keen on getting stuck there.

Unable to find out where the buses departed for the nearby border town, we then discovered that the direct buses were the same ones we´d avoided in Pristina, and therefore a 5 hour wait away. The good thing was that they continued on to the coast of Montenegro, avoiding the expensive capital.

So, resigning ourselves to the unavoidable wait, we made the most of our time and got ourselves a haircut. Mark was easy – short back and sides for 2.50 euros. Mands had concerns about receiving a mullet for her 3 euro haircut, as communication was all hand and body language. Our Albanian wasn´t quite up to scratch...but the haircuts turned out ok....we think!

We killed a little more time in a sports bar where beers were ridiculously cheap, and finished the day off with the standard cevapi sandwich for dinner. We were a little concerned about getting this bus as the station had since closed. We were told that they pulled in at 7.30, 8.30 and 9.30pm and would take about 6 hours. Not wanting to arrive too early in the morning, we avoided the first bus – but did see it arrive! We opted for the second bus, just in case the last one didn´t come and we also discussed sleeping options in case of an emergency. The empty building across the street was high on the list!

But sure enough, the bus turned up only 15 minutes behind schedule and on we got, ready for a good night´s sleep. Ten minutes later we stopped for a half an hour food and wee stop and then we were off again. A video was put on, for our enjoyment, showing cabaret folk singers in concert. It was very loud, but we assumed they wanted to keep us awake for the border crossing, which was not too far away.

The border check went smoothly and, feeling sleepy by this time, we settled back in our seats. But as soon as we moved off, a new video replaced the old and the volume was cranked up. The main lights were also kept on, making sleep near impossible.

Needless to say, the bus ride was one from hell and the fits of sleep were few and far between. Our theory was that the driver and steward thought that if they had to be awake, then we all did too. Not happy, Jan!

On to Montenegro