Day Twenty One (6th July)Well the expensive tour was awesome. I expected a group affair but it was just the two of us. First we walked through the old town. Architecture, history, a small church or two. One church where everyone brings the tortoises they find about town, Church of St. Sophia I think. To be looked after not eaten, though some tourists from <insert your choice> were taking a keen interest.
Amazing history! Then a walk up to a fortress. I'm not doing this tour justice at all, but anyway here's some upcycling: some of the gatehouse stones are gravestones they repurposed because getting new stone was a bit too difficult. When I recall/imagine being told if we get buried in a cemetery in the UK they only give you a set time (was it 10 or 100 years?), then a castle curtain wall that happened to mostly survive being invaded lots is far more permanent. Unless you are infamous already and hoping to be forgotten. Maybe then just get burned and scattered in the face of Paul Daniels.
Sorry, got distracted. After the castle we made a meandering route past some new buildings that Macedonia says are in keeping with the world heritage site but UNESCO people say WTF TAKE THAT DOWN IT'S RIDICULOUS. Bit of a shame as other bits and churches have been reproduced to stunning effect, matching the few old ones in style. We then went through a little forest and discussed education systems, languages we'd learned (or not learned in my case), and cats and dogs. This led down to another church that had been re-built recently after the Ottomans tore down the previous one and built something else there. There's so much history built on history here that it starts to get difficult to discern what should be preserved versus what should be torn down to preserve/re-create what came before. Will we tear down the O2 building one day to recreate the mud huts on stilts that some few thousand year BC original population used? I hope so.
Ok it was quite a long walk, and whilst we were discussing at this site that the swastika on a multi-thousand year old stone had nothing to do with the sign-appropriating mid-20th century bastards (and some ultra morons since) my guide sorted out the next stage of our day, a little catamaran boaty thing. Next was a tiny church that the Ottomans apparently didn't bother destroying because it was too out of the way and only little. The Church of St. John the Theologian. This is a beaut' of a little place and is sat on a huge rocky outcrop.
We finally walked down to the coast and to what used to be a little cafe. From what I could understand it's now a dead building due to some more UNESCO disagreements over untouched landscapes versus people actually making money and serving tourists. We sat here waiting for our ride and enjoying the dappled shade and amazing views across the lake.
Five or ten minutes later a funny looking technically twin-hulled motor taxi boat thing turned up. It had a flat deck with - I assume - vinyl sofas along each side. Our guy took us first up the coast to another bit of the coast I'd not seen, and then back past that Thologian's place we'd explored earlier. We ended up at the town centre and off he went after I bunged him 10 euros. Or twenty, I forget. My guide liked to haggle. Though incidentally most of the churches etc we visited, although having entry prices, just waved us in. Although when the bigger groups come they start charging. This made everything feel far more human, and less money money money.
On our little ride my guide had called her friend to pick us up in town with his car. So we sat under a tree for a while before he arrived. We headed off down the east side of the lake (the west side is in Albania) past a bunch of semi-decent looking hotels. Somewhere along here the country's leadership still takes advantage of the land the previous much-more-corrupt ones nicked and built stuff on.
Next stop, The Bay of Bones! This is a reconstruction of a prehistoric village they discovered that was built on stilts in the lake. This whole lake has very clean water, their only problem being algal bloom due to the severe sun - though I imagine modern farming might be adding something too. Anyway, my guide chilled inside whilst I did a brief walk around the thing. It was about a dozen or so huts with holes for fishing/pooping etc. The original was further out with a bridge that could be lifted up. Must have looked incredible. As we left the place a young couple were having their wedding photo on the grass outside.
Now we got back in the car and continued south to pretty much the border, and a monastery 'St. Naum'. This gets a bit touristy but having my guide with me helped a lot as she directed us into the monastery first, which surprisingly was pretty quiet. We had a chuckle at a mosaic of a bear that looked like a dog - recently made, representing a story from St. Naum's life. We then picked one of the few restaurants that sat right at the edge of a wide, shallow river that was one of the sources of lake Ohrid. Here I finally had the local fish. Naum help me I can't now remember what fish it was, but there were two varieties, an overfished version that was very expensive and a river version from slightly further afield that was sustainably fished. I went with the one that in theory helps the world AND my bank balance surive. And I had a beer. My guide had a coffee and commented how she never eats but subsists on coffee during these days. So I had another coffee too. She helped me with a few Macedonian words too, which I have since forgotten. Bonjour.
Back to the car, avoiding tourist tat shops, then back to Ohrid town and the day was done. It was a great day and will no doubt inform how I plan future trips, where it's all too easy to ride, sleep, ride, and fail to see so much else. Time to get packing anyway. I'd paid for 3 nights here but with my cat Crunchie having a feeding tube in and needing 4-hourly feeds, I had to get back to relieve my cat sitter. She'd already gone above and beyond by having Crunchie go back to her house after the feeding tube surgery, but to ask her to continue with such an onerous job was unreasonable.
Yeah I didn't take any photos of the tortoises but they're real ok.
Inside this same place. People scratched out the eyes because carrying eyes brings you good luck. Yep.
Here lies Gordon the Gopher.
Also the old people fly a different flag to this. Because politics.
This one is new.
This one is old.
This is the old one from the lake.
Stilty village.
The/A source of lake Ohrid. Some say it is never diluted and runs straight to the exit at the other end.
Dog or bear? It's actually a badly behaved bear that got shackled into forced labour.
Day Twenty Two (7th July)Today was time to leave and begin the race back to the unwell cat. As usual I skipped breakfast and got going pretty early whilst tentatively using the clutch and enjoying the accompanying paranoia. Last night I booked a ferry from Ingoumenitsa in Greece to Ancona in Italy. Something over 300 quid for a room with a window. The cheaper options - in order of not cheap to cheap - were a room without a window, a seat, and find some space on the deck (or somewhere). So I paid extra to get a timelapse of the boat sailing into the night. Which I did!
The ride to the border with Greece was uneventful. Although the last few km had temporary limits on the variously resurfaced and mid-resurfacing single carriageway that everyone just ignored. At the border there was the usual confusion, this time with a lane for motorcycles that was lit up as open, but which had a closed barrier and nobody at the kiosk. So I queued with cars in the "EU only" queue. Until some other bikers came, pulled up in the closed-open bike channel, then just walked over to the "EU only" queue and butted in. So I did the same after one of them waved at me. Another 10m further on there's some other kiosk where a uniformed ladyappeared from, walked up and after looking at my plate asked "do you have green card?" "I'm from the UK, my insurance covers me for all the EU" "show me" and so forth, until eventually her superior set her straight. I'm thinking it may be similar to the Albanian mafia situation where everyone sees "UK" and reads it as being a Ukrainian. Brilliant. Whatever happened to "GB" eh.
The ride for the next hour or two was utterly boring as I passed through endless baking farmland, the most excitement being waving nervously at a couple of Greek policemen pointing a radar gun at me. One waved back. Eventually I stopped for petrol, snacks and drinks, then headed into Ingoumenitsa proper. After getting slightly lost, waving at more police, and noticing my clutch going spongey again, I found the 'terminal' building and did the check-in thing. Thankfully they had a little coffee shop there so I sat for an hour or so eating unhealthy snacks and rehydrating. And worrying about stuff on my bike getting lifted. Which didn't happen. The building had air-con too, which was very much welcome with yet another mid thirties day.
Finally it was time to ride onto the runway or whatever they call the bit the boat pulls up to. I followed a more confident looking German guy on an RT and we stood around and chatted for the next hour whilst waiting for the Greeks/Italians to let us on the boat. I think, even though the boat was there and almost empty, they somehow slipped behind schedule by at least 45 minutes. My German mate employed country stereotypes to explain it.
It was a fairly big boat. Bigger than any boat I've been on before. And I've been on the ferry from Skye to Raasay. Finally we rode on and parked up. I was nonplussed to see no tie-down stuff, but my new mate who'd been the other way a few weeks before seemed fine with it, so off upstairs I went. Shower, quick pint, back to room. Plan, book next hotel, get rinsed forgetting the ship uses its own satellite-backed cell tower, sleep.
Oh! I almost missed the weird encounter. On my way for a quick pint I was accosted by a compact woman who was still wearing dark sunglasses IN THE HOUSE. In broken English she asked if I had a room. I said yes of course. She asked "just you?" "my room? yeah just me" And after a couple more back and forth my confusion started to be replaced with another thought as to her intent. So at her next "so, just you?" I gave "yeah, just me and my friend" "oh, friend?" "always a friend" and I got the heck out of there. Other than that little highlight, I was the first person to the bar, paid for an - as I recall - not too expensive a pint, downed it pretty quickly and went to hide in my room for the rest of the trip.
Big boat.
I'm on top of the world!
Sunset.
Day Twenty Three (8th July)Disembarking was a predictably tedious affair. Ship announcey thing says "GTFO and give your keys back." I go to reception, hand key back, and noticing the stairs to the garage is still closed, sit down. TWO HOURS LATER we finally go to our vehicles. I'd had to put up with a pleasant German couple and their dog on my left, and a bickering British upper middle-class couple on my right.
The bikes were still upright and none of my luggage had been stolen, hurrah! Another fifteen minute wait as people piss about and finally we ride off. Into what felt like the middle of a town in an oven. Ancona. At about midday. It was hot. And molto traffico. So of course I'm using the clutch and swearing like a trooper waiting to turn left off the main road in a big queue. Finally I get out of town and to the first toll booth.
My new plan - after spending too much time googling "wtf am I doing wrong" and similar - was to approach it with self belief. That and staying in the middle of the lane. Previously I/we had kept near the machine, predicting the need to press the Help button when the barrier doesn't open. It seems that the sensor is best recognised if you're in the centre of the lane, and I had an almost perfect success rate for my entire ride home with this new approach. Or it was the belief.
Off I go. On this day I stuck cruise at 100kph and just sat there trying to stay cool. Incidentally this got me an indicated 62mpg. The next day sticking at 130kph got me indicated 52mpg. Anyway. About half way through the day I gave up on wearing my very lightweight gloves, in the name of trying to keep cool. This resulted in hilarious/terrible hand sun burn which I should have predicted. In any case, as everyone knows, northern Italy outside the mountain bits is boring as hell, so there's nothing else to tell of this bit of the journey.
I'd booked a hotel just outside Chamonix, in a village called Servoz. Auberge Les Gorges de la Diosaz. I'd picked it as a mid priced non-fancy looking place that wasn't a chain. That was my 'pragmatic' approach to trying not to spend lots on the return journey. I'm never going to stay in an F1 or a Lenny Henry am I. I am not.
Turned out it's quite difficult to not find fancy places in France. I discovered this when the drinks menu appeared at my amazing-view outside table and it was bigger than the bible in big print. Then the food menu came out and it was either a 5 or 8 course taster menu, with or without wine pairing. And a fair chunk over 140 euros to play in the major league. Obviously I went for the 8 courses with wine because, as I said to my friendly waitress later on, "well my cat just cost me over 3 grand so this is bugger all compared to that." Man logic win.
It was incredible food anyway, just amazing, my best meal of the trip and great service. They also had a massive St. Bernard dog who was a nice fella. The only other people there, an older couple had two handbag dogs and the interactions between the three were entertaining. I ended the evening at the little bar inside, talking bits of English, Italian and French with the young student couple doing their holiday work there. Good times. Oh yes and the view of - I assume - Mont Blanc was a great companion for dinner. Highly recommend.
I loved this view. Still waiting for the epiphany though.
Food.
Not food.
Food.
The eating went on for quite a while.
And finally one of the two dessert courses.
Dogs being dogs.
