In retrospect, I guess it's a good thing that I still haven't learned how to say "no." When Matt asked me to join him for a visa run to the Balkans, my one condition was that we go as far as Kosovo. The time-spent-on-buses to overall-duration-of-trip ratio was ridiculously high - read: 4 nights on buses, 2 nights in actual beds, and no less than six border crossings. Although it was grueling, it turned out to be well worth the effort. The Balkans are a multi-course meal of languages, a buffet of cultures, and a glass of beer full of, well, full of beer. Surprises remain abundant in this quirky corner of the world. The bus we left İstanbul on progressively emptied as we moved west. Each of us on the bus, who hadn't purchased our
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