Skopje, Macedonia

The bus ride from Prizren to Skopje began as I said with frigid temperatures and snow and ice on the ground. The bus station was miserable and though there were a great many buses waiting, none said Skopje. None that is until I figured maybe it is spelled completely differently from what we’d expect and sure enough the bus was already there waiting. O blessed warmth! All of the border crossings, by the by, have been easy as pie but of course we still had the difficult one ahead, but I digress. Macedonia greeted us with yet another abrupt change in scenery. Every country’s border has been a natural border between different climate/scenery/feel/look. It was a little unnerving since to my eyes it was as extreme as changing from a blue room to a yellow room. Well, maybe more like a dark blue to a light blue room...but still way different right after the border. Ack! Alright, to Skopje we go.

We were completely turned around when we reached the bus station. We had no idea which way was downtown nor which way we had come in. The Lonely Planet map we had with us was only giving a rough idea of landmarks and we didn’t even know if we were on the map. Our first course was to identify the train station since our travels would now be exclusively by train. After walking back and forth around the blocks surrounding the bus depot trying to follow some signs that said “Railway Station,” I reached another snapping point in shyness and just up and asked for the Railway Station. Turns out it was directly behind and above the bus depot. I had seen the tracks but didn’t know where the station was. I wish I had space to describe how different and yet the same each station or depot was from each other. After getting our bearings, we headed for the river to explore the large bazaar, fortress, and surrounding river area.

At the fortress, Jeff was accosted by a man selling knee braces and perfume/cologne. He literally followed us up two set of steps up into the outer grounds of the fortress stating that he knew English well and so we couldn’t say we didn’t understand him. I ignored him all the more after this since his snobbery would not help his sob story inspire me to buy things I did not need. After escaping, we were treated to beautiful views of the valley we were in. It was a partly cloudy day and quite comfortable. We wandered down through the bazaar again towards a stone bridge which had been there for some time. Across the bridge we found an ice skating rink set up and a host of people skating to music. We explored the river’s edge for a bit and then on our way back up from the edge to the bridge, two gypsy kids, aged 8-10, were suddenly among us, invading my personal space like nobody’s business. Their single phrase “give money” still haunts my ears since it was practically said with harsh, demanding anger. Poor Jeff. The kids were centimeters away from putting their hands in his pockets. I guess Rae got away because she’s a girl and I am pretty tall. They finally left us alone as we crossed the bridge again. I tell these two instances, not as a negative review of Macedonia, but because I want the reader to understand that our day trip to Skopje was not going so well and we were not having a good time. What can cheer up a not good time? Coffee and beer. Or in this case, coffee and rakija.

We hesitated outside a cafe on the edge of the bazaar area for the briefest of moments and in that moment, the owner came out and invited us in. We decided we might as well and were treated to a stone, brick and wood beauty of a bar and floor area with an upstairs that was just as nice. To describe the place with a word, we chose ‘comfortable.’ It felt like it belonged in Seattle. We sat upstairs and started with espressos. Later, we decided to try some hard alcohol since we had nothing else we really wanted to see and still had 4 hours to kill or so before we needed to be at the train station. Turns out we had entered a rakija bar. We told the owner some things we thought we’d like to try and it was amazing! We stayed for an hour and a half or so and on our way out, it seemed it was a dead time since the waiters, owner and I assume some of the owner’s interest partners were having dinner and drinks. Well, one of the partners said to us out of the blue if we’d like anything on the house - food, drink, whatever. Tongue tied briefly, we replied that we would but wanted to go get a postcard before any of the places closed. Less than 5 minutes later we walked back in and sat downstairs at a table next to them all and were then treated to a carafe of their homemade rakija (2 5cl shots each), not one but two helpings of incredibly seasoned potato slices with a kind of local goat cheese on top and fun conversation. All free. Turns out this place had been open for a week. Basically when we started our Balkans trip, this place opened. If I lived in Skopje, this is where you would find me. If you visit Skopje, I recommend this place and their potato slices to you. I’ll include a link if I find one.

We said our goodbyes and headed back to the train station, but the hidden generosity of Skopje was not quite done. While waiting for the train at the station, we entered a pastry store to order some tea. We sat outside so Jeff and Rae could smoke and the lady behind the counter came out and made conversation, asking why we were sitting outside (there was nobody in the small diner). So we went in, talked with her a bit, and then (I’m not sure how it happened) were given a pastry each, wrapped up for eating later! Well I left Skopje with a better impression than I would have otherwise. But now came the hard part of the journey: the border crossing into Serbia.