Oh Lord won't you buy me a Mercedes Benz!

Europe » Macedonia » Bitola
May 22nd 2013

Published: May 23rd 2013

Edit Blog Post

Sturdmeister

Mercedes Benz cars everywhere

If your pride and joy has gone missing in the UK, look no further than Albania. Some of them still have English registration plates on them!

More Mercedes Benz or Porches than you'll ever see in your lifetime. Welcome to Albania! I knew so little about this region before cycling through this amazing country just 5 days ago, where loyalty and integrity amongst the men rules above all else. I have cycled on the motorway, handled a loaded gun given to me by a student in an internet cafe and witnessed unscrupulous amounts of money being flaunted as the latest luxury cars drive through the streets of the capital Tirana. But before I carry on let me wind back just a couple of weeks to when I left the beautiful city of Sarajevo....

Just 20 km south of the Bosnian Capital, whilst stopping to take a photograph, I was asked to join Rafik and his Muslim family for a coffee. I had to make good 120 km that day to reach the town of Mostar, so I tried to excuse myself, but he insisted that I join them for at least one quick coffee. Normally culturally aware, I made my first faux pas whilst attempting to greet Rafik's wife and shake her hand. Any form of embarrassment was however quickly forgotten as we sat down for

Let me play you a tune

Rafik plays me the Sass. From Srebenicia it took him 73 days to walk to Germany during the war.

Bosnian coffee and cakes. Shortly thereafter Rafik grabbed his Sass (musical instrument) and played me a tune. He was a little too shy to start singing as well and made an excuse that I wouldn't understand the words anyway, however his Bosnian music was a real treat. Not only this, but he then explained to me that he had managed to escape Srebrenicia during the 1990s war and fled to Germany. It took him 73 days to walk there at night as he did not carry any papers on him for fear of being caught and being killed. What an amazing tale.

After saying my farewells I continued with my journey towards Mostar. The route follows a crystal clear river which cuts through several gorges taking you through a beautiful mountainous region. Halfway along the trail I was stopped by two beautiful girls who were trying to promote Redbull. They had parked up their Redbull car in a lay-by, opened the bonnet and placed a warning triangle at the rear of the car. Their ploy was to pretend that they had broken down and that they needed help. Any motorist who then stopped would be rewarded with cans of

Bosnia

Beautiful scenery en route Sarajevo to Mostar

Redbull. I was quite surprised that they hadn't been successful until I came along and that I was their first customer. I told them that they needed to wave the car drivers down to gain their attention and not just stand by the side of the car. Sure enough a couple of minutes later they waved down a lorry driver who was grateful for the can of Redbull and the girls were of course thrilled to bits that their new tactic worked.

Mostar revives memories of the war between Bosnian and Croatian troops when the bridge was repeatedly shelled until it finally collapsed into the river. This bridge has twice been resurrected and today, as it did before, attracts tourists from all around the world. Not only this, but for a mere 25 Euros, members of Mostar Diving Club will jump off the bridge into the freezing water below. The jump is 21m high and last year a tourist tried to do the same thing and died. I think my desire to do adrenaline things has also subsided as I have grown older!

My next stop after leaving Mostar was on a campsite near a place called Ston

Redbull Emergency

Please anyone, can you help us.....?!

on a peninsular on the Croatian coastline, which has a "mini Great wall of China". En route I bumped into fellow cyclists James (Brit) and Linda (Half Canadian, half swiss) who have been underway for the past year. They asked me whether I checked the bins at Lidl's stores to which I replied no. They told me that Lidl's have a habit of throwing lots of their food out once it has passed its "best before" date. So far I haven't resorted to this, but it's interesting that food which I'm sure is still safe to eat is thrown away and not given to people who are unable to afford the basics.

Dubrovnik was a little disappointing for me in terms of its status attraction. Too many cruise liners and tourists plaguing the city for 6 hours at a time. Fortunately, whilst travelling through another part of Croatia I was given the contact details of a girl called Janet who works as a massage therapist in Dubrovnik. I decided to just chance it and meet up with her by walking up to her place of work and introducing myself. She was a little shocked when I mentioned her name

Clear waters

En route Mostar

and her nationality (half canadian, half croat). However after she realised that I had been given her details by her friend she initially invited me to a coffee and then rescheduled her whole day to look after me, taking in all the non touristy restaurants and bars. It was so nice to be shown Dubrovnik by a local resident and she really made me feel welcome throughout.

Kotor Bay in Montenegro was next on the agenda and this understated and relatively unknown region surpassed all my expectations and is in fact the most beautiful area I have visited thus far. Co-incidentally, on crossing the border from Croatia into Montenegro I asked a British Motorcyclist whether he could exchange some croatian money into Montenegro dibdobs as the petrol station wasn't willing to do so. I noticed that he was wearing desert boots and I asked him if he had served in the Military. It turned out that his name was Graeme Davies and he had served as a Seaman Officer in the Royal Navy from 1998 -1991 serving in HMS JERSEY and HMS BIRMINGHAM. Small world!

As if I am destined to keep meeting people with close connections, I

Mostar bridge

Standing on the bridge which was twice destroyed during the 1990s war

also met a psychiatry student called Emily in the Old Town Hostel in Kotor, who had bunked off from King's College London and was due for lectures with my good friend and Professor Neil Greenberg the following week.

Kotor really set an impression with me and following an extended stay I was really sad to leave this beautiful town behind. I made tracks south and ended up staying in the town of Ulcinq, on the Montenegrin/Albanian border for one night where I met the delightful and ever youthful 73 year old Albert from Germany. We ended up going out for the evening and it turned out that Albert was motorcycling on his 1000cc BMW motorbike to Kyrgyzstan. It's never too old to be doing something adventurous and Albert really is testimony to this.

And so I ended up crossing the border into Albania. I had conjured up all sorts of visions having watched both films "Taken" and its sequel. My first impression of this country was seeing the number of petrol stations lining the roads. They are literally evident every 200 metres, together with car washes. The kids here were more inquisitive and willing to give me high

Mostar bridge

The bridge also divides two ethnic communities

fives, although one of them grabbed my hand a little too firmly and nearly pulled me off my bike!

I had to cycle on the motorway to reach Tirana. Initially, I was a little anxious as I passed the sign stating that bicycles and mopeds under a certain engine size were not allowed, but as I proceeded along the hard shoulder I was met by other cyclists, horses and carts and pedestrians coming from the opposite direction so all was fine as far as I was concerned.

In Tirana, I tried to find a hostel, but ended up staying in a room with an adjoining bathroom in the middle of an estate, where the roads have no manhole covers and yet everybody is driving around in the latest edition £100,000 pound Mercedes or Porsche.

As ever I landed on my feet and ended up meeting Ardit, Dizzy and Arbnor who looked after me throughout my two day stay in Tirana. I have to say that Albania is up until now the most patriotic nation I have ever met. Not only this, but when it comes to hospitality, they are obliged to treat their guests like royalty. It

Mostar Diving Club

Preparing to jump off the 21m high Mostar bridge

is within their make up and loyalty,integrity and hospitality feature heavily in their DNA. My Albanian friends could not have done more for me throughout the 48 hour period spent in Tirana. They took me on a tour of the city, helped me to get my laundry sorted, took me to a reputable Barbers and described what I needed doing to my barnet, took me to the outlets where traditional Albanian food is served and we also ended up playing table tennis and pool and of course drinking beer. My only cause for concern was when they thrust a loaded gun into my hand which another student had stuffed down the back of his trousers. A negligent discharge within the confines of the internet cafe could have had nasty consequences. I hastily returned the gun to the student, who apparently was a member of the local police......but I'm really not so sure.

Leaving Tirana behind, I made tracks towards the Macedonian Border and stopped off in a small town to buy some bananas and chocolate. Suddenly a voice piped up"Where are you from my friend, can I help you? It turned out the guy, whose name was Jimmy had

Jumping off the Bridge

The guys wait until the public have collected 25 Euros. They then jump off the bridge. At 21 metres it's a long way down. Apparently one tourist tried it last year and died.

previously worked in Portsmouth and when I quizzed him which part of Portsmouth he came from, he straight away came out with Southsea, my home town. So he must be one of those Albanians who are always sat outside the Costa Coffee at 0800 in the morning drinking Expresso coffees! Anyway we talked for about 20 minutes and then he excused himself, as he said that he needed to drink some beer and do some "lines" I'm assuming he is a street worker!

Another feature of the Albanian countryside are the concrete bunkers which were constructed to protect against invasion from an imperialistic state. The Albanian leader at the time stated that the bunkers had to withstand a direct shelling. He appointed an engineer to design these bunkers and as part of the quality assurance process ordered the engineer to enter one of his bunkers whilst it was shelled to prove that it really was up to scratch. The engineer came out unscathed. I like an engineer who can vouch for his invention in such a manner!

I am currently sat in a hostel in Bitola in Macedonia where I have today visited roman ruins and watched Gypsies