Piva Gorge (Bosnia) - Sofia (Bulgaria)
Putting the heading aside for a moment, Montenegro was next after leaving Bosnia, now it may be small, but from my brief sojourn through its lands, it picked up where Bosnia left off in even more spectacular fashion. First up was the awe inspiring Piva gorge, the kind which makes you think that the people that built the road by hewing it out of sheer cliffs must've been being punished for something!
A day later it was the UNESCO heritage site of Kotor Bay, touted as the most beautiful in Europe, and I wasn't one to argue. Added to that was one of the best old towns I'd seen (and they're a lot throughout Europe), which included a towering fort 300m vertically above it that provided the panoramas shown below.
With my English ignorance further entrenched by great times in Kotor with a Serbian speaking Frenchman and a Russian speaking American, and now au fait with the geographic and cultural difference between Montenegro and Macedonia, I left heading south for Albania in a thundering deluge.
Shqipëria (or Albania as we know it) is one of those enigmatic countries I knew virtually nothing about and a lot of people consider a difficult dangerous place worth avoiding , but someone somewhere had made a passing comment that I would be in for a good surprise. And so I pedalled in with their iconic flag (a black doubled headed eagle on a bright crimson background) hoisted proudly everywhere.
The first night's camping I just felt that I didn't need to hide away and camped amongst the local's fields. In no time I had a charismatic old dude sitting next to my stove having a lengthy charades chat, and he wasn't done yet, visiting at midnight to bring me a red bull (I think the kind gesture was to aid my fatigue, although being caffeine free it did present some insomnia issues!). And he was back at 6am on his scooter to show me his catch as he clearly wasn't content that I'd understood his 'Pesce' in Italian the previous night (I hadn't!).
Shqipëria (or Albania as we know it) is one of those enigmatic countries I knew virtually nothing about and a lot of people consider a difficult dangerous place worth avoiding , but someone somewhere had made a passing comment that I would be in for a good surprise. And so I pedalled in with their iconic flag (a black doubled headed eagle on a bright crimson background) hoisted proudly everywhere.
The first night's camping I just felt that I didn't need to hide away and camped amongst the local's fields. In no time I had a charismatic old dude sitting next to my stove having a lengthy charades chat, and he wasn't done yet, visiting at midnight to bring me a red bull (I think the kind gesture was to aid my fatigue, although being caffeine free it did present some insomnia issues!). And he was back at 6am on his scooter to show me his catch as he clearly wasn't content that I'd understood his 'Pesce' in Italian the previous night (I hadn't!).
Three weeks on I was still there and it has been the highlight of my journey thus far. For me, two things make a country great to travel through, the people and the scenery, and Albania has these in spades. From the moment I crossed the border, so many of the locals were engaging and friendly, even though there was rarely any common language between us. And as for the scenery, it has everything from it’s own alpine range, verdant forests and long quiet beaches set against ever more mountains. It's recent history also makes it a very interesting experience - this is a nation that eschewed the Russians and the Chinese on the grounds of them being too liberal in their application of the hammer and sickle, did not allow citizens to drive until 1992, and now has a main street named after George Dubya! And the peculiarities and intrigue don't stop there so needless to say I was captivated throughout my time here.
From the capital Tirana I left on a d-tour to the relatively undiscovered stunning southern coast with some new Norwegian and German mates, and put the world to right with two days of beach, bonfires and beers.
Then on return I got to meet up with aussie couple Jade and Astrid who have been on the road for two years from Melbourne en route to the UK - They're totally awesome, fun and inspiring and gave me plenty of wisdom for my travels east through tricky central asia.
A week on, a rusty beer riddled body rode out into the mountains heading east for a quick stay in Macedonia's jewel of lake Ohrid, before heading back into Albania to experience the remote northern reaches of the Accursed Mountains, where bears and wolves still roam and ancient blood feuds are still waged to this very day.
En route I met and rode with a great young 19yr old frenchman, Paul Pichot, on a trip around the whole of europe. For two days we toiled up and down brutally beautiful roads and, in true french style, stopped to cook french toast for lunch, a substantial improvement from the usual single item menu of bread and jam.
The stunning Koman lake/dam ferry followed, which makes its daily return trip along the gorge of the same name to form the umbilical cord for the communities that live along it, long since cut off from any other means of connection with the outside world since the dam was built.
Dragobia the ferry, was constructed by putting the top of a bus on top of a banged up old boat, which seemed like a novel cost effective solution to me, and at sparrow's fart she departed along this magnificent often sheer gorge with a lone tourist on board. The trip was a mesmerizing mix of sheer cliffs and verdant vistas interspersed with the bustling business of ferrying locals and goods from precarious and precipitous collection points that most city folk would consider too dangerous to venture near!
Dragobia the ferry, was constructed by putting the top of a bus on top of a banged up old boat, which seemed like a novel cost effective solution to me, and at sparrow's fart she departed along this magnificent often sheer gorge with a lone tourist on board. The trip was a mesmerizing mix of sheer cliffs and verdant vistas interspersed with the bustling business of ferrying locals and goods from precarious and precipitous collection points that most city folk would consider too dangerous to venture near!
With boots replacing the bike I took to the revered accursed mountains with equal vigour and trepidation, seemingly well placed given the three serpents I met en route on the first day, one of them being the rather feared hooded viper.
And so for two full days I roamed high and deep among these fabled peaks, often deep in snow, usually devoid of paths over sketchy terrain, and they were almost exclusively mine to behold - stoked was an understatement, I'll let the pictures say the rest.
And so for two full days I roamed high and deep among these fabled peaks, often deep in snow, usually devoid of paths over sketchy terrain, and they were almost exclusively mine to behold - stoked was an understatement, I'll let the pictures say the rest.
The fitting Albanian finale complete, I rode out past a last set of three of the 700,000 concrete bunkers constructed to provide protection against the enemy that never appeared, and entered the second newest country in the world.
Unfortunately my time in Kosovo would be curtailed as i had to hightail my way to Sofia in Bulgaria to get myself to a quick work trip in Nigeria, but it was enlightening nonetheless. 93% of the Kosovars are ethnically Albanian but the country is quite different as a result of being part of Serbia and Yugoslavia and , albeit with a contingent of 1000 UN peacekeepers, there is peace there for now. With little love lost between most neighbours in the western Balkans, a quip from a guide in Sarajevo often felt quite pertinent - "We've had a war in each generation for the last three, and we don't expect that pattern to stop soon".
Three days on after another quick sojourn through Macedonia (a direct route would've been through Serbia but the Kosovars and the Serbs aren't quite at the amicable stage of opening borders just yet), and it was up another steep pass to see the white, green and red stripes of Bulgaria welcoming me back into Europe for almost the last time. Stomping on the pedals left me a day to take in Sofia and some high quality hostel revelry before Africa beckoned, albeit very briefly.
And on return a partner in crime, as the legendary Anne Price (aka my mother) joins me to ride through the summer months.
And on return a partner in crime, as the legendary Anne Price (aka my mother) joins me to ride through the summer months.