Wednesday 12 December 2018
Tuesday 11 December 2018
Malta
I searched for somewhere with a) cheap flights from Crete and b) cheap flights to Newcastle. Malta leapt out at me and so here I am. Nice place, lovely weather, a bit crowded, etc. Over the years I've spent a lot of time in hostels full of younger people, but here, I really think I'm the youngest guest in my hotel. They have bingo in the afternoons.
Anyway, in the absence of anything interesting to report from Malta, it's time for a brief summary of my trip in retrospect...
MOST FAVOURED PLACE
I'm going to make this a tie between Kosovo and Tirana. From now on I count myself a particular friend of the Albanian people and I will applaud Liverpool winger Xherdan Shaqiri every time he makes that eagle gesture.
LEAST FAVOURED PLACE
Again a tie, and with all due respect to both places and their residents...Dubrovnik (polluted, touristy) and Belgrade (grim, sinister). Not going back.
BEST MEAL
Falafels and sundries at The Chickpea in Crete (see previous blog)
MOST INCOMPREHENSIBLE LANGUAGE
A crowded field, with many strong contenders, but Maltese wins by a nose. I didn't manage to pick up a single word.
TOE UPDATE
Three weeks after I banged it, it's gone back to its normal colour, but not its normal shape. Hmm. Possibly I may go to the doctor when I'm home.
NEXT TRIP
Hard to say. If the pound sinks any lower then it might have to be Whitley Bay. And what happens if a hard Brexit means I'd get interned at Calais anyway? I'm afraid I shall have to just keep you all in suspense for another year. Though it may be a bit less than that.
Happy Xmas everybody.
Anyway, in the absence of anything interesting to report from Malta, it's time for a brief summary of my trip in retrospect...
MOST FAVOURED PLACE
I'm going to make this a tie between Kosovo and Tirana. From now on I count myself a particular friend of the Albanian people and I will applaud Liverpool winger Xherdan Shaqiri every time he makes that eagle gesture.
LEAST FAVOURED PLACE
Again a tie, and with all due respect to both places and their residents...Dubrovnik (polluted, touristy) and Belgrade (grim, sinister). Not going back.
BEST MEAL
Falafels and sundries at The Chickpea in Crete (see previous blog)
MOST INCOMPREHENSIBLE LANGUAGE
A crowded field, with many strong contenders, but Maltese wins by a nose. I didn't manage to pick up a single word.
TOE UPDATE
Three weeks after I banged it, it's gone back to its normal colour, but not its normal shape. Hmm. Possibly I may go to the doctor when I'm home.
NEXT TRIP
Hard to say. If the pound sinks any lower then it might have to be Whitley Bay. And what happens if a hard Brexit means I'd get interned at Calais anyway? I'm afraid I shall have to just keep you all in suspense for another year. Though it may be a bit less than that.
Happy Xmas everybody.
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| Fort St Angelo, seen from Valletta |
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| Msida Yacht Marina |
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| The east end of Republic St, Valletta. They like their colourful balconies in Malta. |
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| Sliema This is where I'm staying. It's nice, but I wish that cat would stop staring at me. |
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| Marsaskala |
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| St Paul's Cathedral, Mdina Clearly Mdina is a place where they like a prayer, ha ha. |
Friday 7 December 2018
Crete
From Athens to Heraklion is about as short a flight as you can take from a major airport. The interval between the seatbelt light turning off post-takeoff, and turning back on again pre-landing, is barely sufficient for a quick trip to the toilet - one necessitated in this case by a surprisingly drinkable pint of Corfu Red Ale in the departure lounge at Athens.
Unfortuately it's piddled down with rain for almost the whole of my time in Crete. Such are the hazards of travelling at this time of year. And indeed without any waterproof gear or sturdy shoes. Sigh. But during brief intervals of sunshine I've visited the ancient palace of Knossos, source of many myths including Theseus and the Minotaur. It tops even the archaeological sites of mainland Greece for sheer antiquity - the palace dates from 1900BC, and the surrounding area bears traces of inhabitation going back to 7000BC. Also the wifi in my unheated apartment appears to be late Bronze Age in origin.
I had a quick one-day drive around the central part of Crete, in a rented Toyota so old & battered that I probably could have taken it stock-car racing and still not lost my deposit. The car gave me the opportunity to head out into the sticks and check out the memorial to one of World War Two's most famous acts of daring: the abduction of the occupying German commander General Kreipe by a team of Greek partisans, led by an English writer, explorer, war hero and general all-round they-don't-make-'em-like-that-anymore chap called Patrick Leigh Fermor. I am unable to resist quoting the following from his Wikipedia biography:
'As a child Leigh Fermor had problems with academic structure and limitations, and was sent to a school for "difficult" children. He was later expelled from The King's School, Canterbury after he was caught holding hands with a greengrocer's daughter. His last report from The King's School noted that the young Leigh Fermor was "a dangerous mixture of sophistication and recklessness".'
Undoubtedly the fame of the Kreipe exploit is due not just to its sheer audacity - they got the General clean off the island and into an Allied submarine - but also to the romance of it all, with Fermor and the subdued General exchanging Latin quotations over the remnants of a mountainside campfire, while the dawn sunbeams spread out across the valleys, etc etc; and also to a vaguely heartwarming televised postwar reunion between the two men, in 1972.
But beyond its propaganda value, the operation had little effect other than to redouble the savagery of Nazi reprisals against the civilian population. And Kreipe's non-commissioned driver, who was also kidnapped and did not have the benefit of a classical education, sustained an injury during the raid which meant he had to be left behind. The partisans couldn't afford for him to talk, and so they killed him quietly, with a knife. We don't put up monuments to that kind of thing.
Christmas looms and my thoughts begin to turn homeward. At this time of year, direct flights home are rather prohibitively expensive. But it's fun to be creative with Skyscanner when you've got an open mind and time to spare. There'll be one more blog for your delectation yet and I can say with confidence that you probably won't guess where from.
In the meantime I shall say goodbye to Greece with some very fond memories. I can't make head nor tail of the language (it's all Greek to me, ha ha) but the food is delicious and that's what really matters.
Unfortuately it's piddled down with rain for almost the whole of my time in Crete. Such are the hazards of travelling at this time of year. And indeed without any waterproof gear or sturdy shoes. Sigh. But during brief intervals of sunshine I've visited the ancient palace of Knossos, source of many myths including Theseus and the Minotaur. It tops even the archaeological sites of mainland Greece for sheer antiquity - the palace dates from 1900BC, and the surrounding area bears traces of inhabitation going back to 7000BC. Also the wifi in my unheated apartment appears to be late Bronze Age in origin.
I had a quick one-day drive around the central part of Crete, in a rented Toyota so old & battered that I probably could have taken it stock-car racing and still not lost my deposit. The car gave me the opportunity to head out into the sticks and check out the memorial to one of World War Two's most famous acts of daring: the abduction of the occupying German commander General Kreipe by a team of Greek partisans, led by an English writer, explorer, war hero and general all-round they-don't-make-'em-like-that-anymore chap called Patrick Leigh Fermor. I am unable to resist quoting the following from his Wikipedia biography:
'As a child Leigh Fermor had problems with academic structure and limitations, and was sent to a school for "difficult" children. He was later expelled from The King's School, Canterbury after he was caught holding hands with a greengrocer's daughter. His last report from The King's School noted that the young Leigh Fermor was "a dangerous mixture of sophistication and recklessness".'
Undoubtedly the fame of the Kreipe exploit is due not just to its sheer audacity - they got the General clean off the island and into an Allied submarine - but also to the romance of it all, with Fermor and the subdued General exchanging Latin quotations over the remnants of a mountainside campfire, while the dawn sunbeams spread out across the valleys, etc etc; and also to a vaguely heartwarming televised postwar reunion between the two men, in 1972.
But beyond its propaganda value, the operation had little effect other than to redouble the savagery of Nazi reprisals against the civilian population. And Kreipe's non-commissioned driver, who was also kidnapped and did not have the benefit of a classical education, sustained an injury during the raid which meant he had to be left behind. The partisans couldn't afford for him to talk, and so they killed him quietly, with a knife. We don't put up monuments to that kind of thing.
Christmas looms and my thoughts begin to turn homeward. At this time of year, direct flights home are rather prohibitively expensive. But it's fun to be creative with Skyscanner when you've got an open mind and time to spare. There'll be one more blog for your delectation yet and I can say with confidence that you probably won't guess where from.
In the meantime I shall say goodbye to Greece with some very fond memories. I can't make head nor tail of the language (it's all Greek to me, ha ha) but the food is delicious and that's what really matters.
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| Knossos Where you see bright colours & sharp angles, that generally reflects modern restoration work. Mostly rather regrettable I think. |
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| Abducting a general (see above) |
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| According to Greek myth, Europa was abducted by Zeus in the form of a bull and brought to Crete. And that, kids, is why Europe is called Europe! Hence this utterly ghastly statue. |
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| I can't remember where this was exactly. Somewhere on the north coast. |
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| Edd vs Food #73 Best meal of this trip so far. Beef, salsa, tabbouleh, honey-tinged yoghurt, beetroot, hummus and pita. Simple food, but fresh as a daisy and done to absolute perfection in every part. At The Chickpea, Heraklion |
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| Edd vs Food #74 As above, but falafel instead of beef, and rocket instead of beetroot. |
Saturday 1 December 2018
Ancient Greece
One of the most regrettable aspects of present-day travelling is the fact that, due to the spread of global prosperity and cheap air travel, most things on your to-do list will also be on the to-do lists of several thousand other people on any given day.
Athens is a case in point. Had I been born an aristocrat in the 19th century, then perhaps I could have sauntered up to the Acropolis, having rented a mule from Hertz, and contemplated the Parthenon in blissful solitude and silence. As it is, even on a midweek day in November, the place is permanently jam-packed. I shudder to think what it's like on a summer weekend.
Of course, the answer is simply to use a bit of initiative and imagination. So when my time in Athens was up, I went back to the airport and picked up a BMW for a few leisurely days of driving around the archaeological sites and museums of southern Greece. On more than one occasion I did indeed find perfect solitude and silence (and sunshine) at some of the most significant monuments of the ancient world. See pictures below, and click the picture captions for more info if required.
PS Fury was robbed.
Athens is a case in point. Had I been born an aristocrat in the 19th century, then perhaps I could have sauntered up to the Acropolis, having rented a mule from Hertz, and contemplated the Parthenon in blissful solitude and silence. As it is, even on a midweek day in November, the place is permanently jam-packed. I shudder to think what it's like on a summer weekend.
Of course, the answer is simply to use a bit of initiative and imagination. So when my time in Athens was up, I went back to the airport and picked up a BMW for a few leisurely days of driving around the archaeological sites and museums of southern Greece. On more than one occasion I did indeed find perfect solitude and silence (and sunshine) at some of the most significant monuments of the ancient world. See pictures below, and click the picture captions for more info if required.
PS Fury was robbed.
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| Delphi |
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| View from the Delphi hotel |
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| Olympia This was the very first Olympic track, like off of ever. 776BC. |
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| Bassae (5th century BC) Preserved temple high up in the mountains, now protected under canvas. Wind buffets the canvas and the mist creeps in under it; spooky in the extreme. |
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| Ancient Theatre of Sparta |
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| Argos |
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| Mycenae The Trojan Wars were planned here. |
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| "Agamemnon's tomb" Bronze Age - circa 1250BC |
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| Corinth |
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| Eleusis |
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| Edd vs Food #72 Chicken souvlaki at Gemelos, Corinth |
Monday 26 November 2018
Athens, Greece
Recently I had a dig at Skopje for all the fake-classical buildings there. And in years gone by I've had more than one giggle at the Americans for believing that history began in 1776. Now I'm in Athens and, well, I'd better keep my big mouth shut hadn't I? This is where Western civilisation began, after all.
As you might expect, Athens is a much more racially diverse place than the former Yugoslavia, and here I had a conversation with a black person for the first time in a couple of months. Admittedly it was only a very brief conversation, on account of the fact that no I didn't want any drugs thank you.
Again I'm staying in a private room in a hostel. (The main reason for me preferring hostels is that I like having access to a kitchen, where I can cook myself dippy eggs & soldiers). In this room there isn't a bed as such; rather, there are mattresses on a raised platform which occupies the whole of one side of the room, and there's a lip at the edge of the platform to keep the mattresses in place.
I only mention this configuration because I forgot it was there one morning, rising in semi-darkness and staggering blindly in the direction of my alarm clock, thinking I was walking across the floor when I was in fact still on the raised platform. Inevitably I tripped over the lip and proceeded to perform a kind of forward aerial half-somersault onto the floor. Fortunately I retain just about enough youthful agility that I managed to distribute the impact paratrooper-style, otherwise I'd undoubtedly have broken something. The one tangible after-effect was a badly bruised toe, second smallest on the right foot. It's still swollen and purple. Yowch.
That bruised toe has put paid to my long walks for the time being, but fortunately I'd already done the tour of all the main Athens monuments. See pictures below.
As you might expect, Athens is a much more racially diverse place than the former Yugoslavia, and here I had a conversation with a black person for the first time in a couple of months. Admittedly it was only a very brief conversation, on account of the fact that no I didn't want any drugs thank you.
Again I'm staying in a private room in a hostel. (The main reason for me preferring hostels is that I like having access to a kitchen, where I can cook myself dippy eggs & soldiers). In this room there isn't a bed as such; rather, there are mattresses on a raised platform which occupies the whole of one side of the room, and there's a lip at the edge of the platform to keep the mattresses in place.
I only mention this configuration because I forgot it was there one morning, rising in semi-darkness and staggering blindly in the direction of my alarm clock, thinking I was walking across the floor when I was in fact still on the raised platform. Inevitably I tripped over the lip and proceeded to perform a kind of forward aerial half-somersault onto the floor. Fortunately I retain just about enough youthful agility that I managed to distribute the impact paratrooper-style, otherwise I'd undoubtedly have broken something. The one tangible after-effect was a badly bruised toe, second smallest on the right foot. It's still swollen and purple. Yowch.
That bruised toe has put paid to my long walks for the time being, but fortunately I'd already done the tour of all the main Athens monuments. See pictures below.
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| The Parthenon (obviously). 438BC |
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| Greece's Parliament building (1843 AD). In classical times, Greeks would argue about how much money to demand from their colonies. Now they gather here and argue about how much to send to the Germans. |
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| Odeon of Herodes Atticus (161AD) A theatre on the south slope of the Acropolis. |
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| The Acropolis and Parthenon, seen from the Ancient Agora (6th century BC) to the north. |
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| Panathenaic Stadium, built for the first modern Olympics in 1896AD |
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| Temple of Olympian Zeus (begun 6th century BC) |
Wednesday 21 November 2018
Tirana, Albania
Part 2 of my trip begins: Albania. Possibly I've never before arrived in a country bearing such low expectations and indeed total ignorance. I just blithely assumed that Albania was some kind of dystopian post-apocalyptic wasteland, and that I'd be dealing with shady people-trafficking mafia types at every turn. As such I was fully prepared to dish out some swift gruff-voiced butt-whippings after the example of Liam Neeson in 'Taken'...
How wrong I was. Tirana may be a bit hair-raising at times, but for the most part it's a lovely place to spend a few days. The positive parallels with their ethnic cousins in Kosovo (see my last-but-two blog) are striking. More and more I feel justified in having had a partial man-crush on Lorik Cana back in 2009.
I'm staying in a hostel, but I have a private room, in which the bed has a 'Star Wars'-themed duvet cover. (Obviously I'm far too mature to approve of that. Obviously.) The hostel has a big open rooftop where I can kick back in a hammock and lie there reading, my hat pushed over my eyes against the sun, with no interruptions and nobody around other than the locals hanging up their laundry on distant balconies, and no noise other than that of the traffic five floors below; all in all, a luxury worth more to me than all the poncey cocktails & cappuccinos of Europe combined.
Another thing in Tirana's favour is that it has a nice little airport, easy and cheap to get to, and small enough to be entirely hassle-free. A good way to head out for part 3.
How wrong I was. Tirana may be a bit hair-raising at times, but for the most part it's a lovely place to spend a few days. The positive parallels with their ethnic cousins in Kosovo (see my last-but-two blog) are striking. More and more I feel justified in having had a partial man-crush on Lorik Cana back in 2009.
I'm staying in a hostel, but I have a private room, in which the bed has a 'Star Wars'-themed duvet cover. (Obviously I'm far too mature to approve of that. Obviously.) The hostel has a big open rooftop where I can kick back in a hammock and lie there reading, my hat pushed over my eyes against the sun, with no interruptions and nobody around other than the locals hanging up their laundry on distant balconies, and no noise other than that of the traffic five floors below; all in all, a luxury worth more to me than all the poncey cocktails & cappuccinos of Europe combined.
Another thing in Tirana's favour is that it has a nice little airport, easy and cheap to get to, and small enough to be entirely hassle-free. A good way to head out for part 3.
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| Looking west from the hammock at sunset... |
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| ...and east. |
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| Grand Park of Tirana. The lake is artificial, but that's fine. |
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| Namazgjah mosque in the foreground. Dajti Mountain (5,292ft) in the background. |
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| Memorial for the late and unlamented dictator Enver Hoxha. Probably this will get knocked down before too long... |
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| ...in the meantime, the cops turn a blind eye if you scamper up it. Here's a picture from the top. |
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| This was my first breath of Albanian air, coming over the border in a bus from Macedonia. |
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| Edd vs Food #71 Caesar salad (my default half-hearted attempt at being healthy) with chips. Also the nice but unfortunately-named Puka Albanian craft beer. At Spaghetti Western. |
Saturday 17 November 2018
Lake Ohrid, Macedonia
Lake Ohrid was one of the preferred holiday destinations of the former Yugoslavia's communist despot Marshal Tito, and indeed you can still visit his big posh purpose-built summer residence here. (As with most communists then and since, Tito's rejection of Western materialism & consumerism never quite managed to transcend the realms of the theoretical). Right now it's off-season and not too crowded, but even in November it's still pretty hot during the day.
And although this trip still has a long way to go, Ohrid is where my time in the former Yugoslavia draws to a close. I've enjoyed it. I regret not having seen more of Croatia - I was very tempted by Zagreb & Split, but they didn't quite fit in. And of course I've ended up omitting Slovenia altogether. (I hope they don't take it personally).
My blog has avoided delving too deeply into the thorny thickets of politics, history and conflict which are so prominent in this part of the world. But that doesn't mean I've been oblivious to it all. It's hard not to be affected when you see so many urban cemeteries full of graves that are all too new, containing people who died all too young. In Bosnia in particular, the air is thick with unfinished business, unredeemed sacrifices, and restless ghosts.
When I got to Mostar, and expressed an interest in hiking the impressive hills surrounding the town, my host frowned and said something about landmines. Also I visited the genocide museum there, a sobering experience to say the least. Some of the events it records are portrayed very crudely: scale models of concentration camps, green toy soldiers standing upright with weapons levelled, civilian-coloured figurines lying prone and daubed over with bright red paint. The directness of it all is shocking. But then why should they water it down?
In a mosque near the museum, where they let tourists look round and climb the minaret for a small fee (they need the money because the upkeep of the mosque is beyond the means of the ever-dwindling elderly congregation), my guide told me ruefully that before the wars of the 1990s there had been many intermarriages - Christian & Muslim, Bosnian & Serb - but no longer.
I got a slightly different perspective from a PhD student in Novi Sad. She found the whole break-up of Yugoslavia tiresome: she said things had made much more sense for Serbs like her when Yugoslavia was one country with one capital (in Serbia). Well, she would, wouldn't she.
For me personally, the main thing is that I've enjoyed visiting all these cities, but the views from the bus & train rides have been so stupendous that I'm determined to come back here one day and do some car rental in order to see the countryside properly. In the meantime, part two of this trip begins with the next blog.
And although this trip still has a long way to go, Ohrid is where my time in the former Yugoslavia draws to a close. I've enjoyed it. I regret not having seen more of Croatia - I was very tempted by Zagreb & Split, but they didn't quite fit in. And of course I've ended up omitting Slovenia altogether. (I hope they don't take it personally).
My blog has avoided delving too deeply into the thorny thickets of politics, history and conflict which are so prominent in this part of the world. But that doesn't mean I've been oblivious to it all. It's hard not to be affected when you see so many urban cemeteries full of graves that are all too new, containing people who died all too young. In Bosnia in particular, the air is thick with unfinished business, unredeemed sacrifices, and restless ghosts.
When I got to Mostar, and expressed an interest in hiking the impressive hills surrounding the town, my host frowned and said something about landmines. Also I visited the genocide museum there, a sobering experience to say the least. Some of the events it records are portrayed very crudely: scale models of concentration camps, green toy soldiers standing upright with weapons levelled, civilian-coloured figurines lying prone and daubed over with bright red paint. The directness of it all is shocking. But then why should they water it down?
In a mosque near the museum, where they let tourists look round and climb the minaret for a small fee (they need the money because the upkeep of the mosque is beyond the means of the ever-dwindling elderly congregation), my guide told me ruefully that before the wars of the 1990s there had been many intermarriages - Christian & Muslim, Bosnian & Serb - but no longer.
I got a slightly different perspective from a PhD student in Novi Sad. She found the whole break-up of Yugoslavia tiresome: she said things had made much more sense for Serbs like her when Yugoslavia was one country with one capital (in Serbia). Well, she would, wouldn't she.
For me personally, the main thing is that I've enjoyed visiting all these cities, but the views from the bus & train rides have been so stupendous that I'm determined to come back here one day and do some car rental in order to see the countryside properly. In the meantime, part two of this trip begins with the next blog.
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| Lake Ohrid and Ohrid town, from Samuel's Fortress |
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| This theatre dates from 200BC, and was used for gladiator fights and executions as well as staging plays. Many thanks to sponsors T-Mobile for ruining the whole view with the splurge of purple to the left of centre. |
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| Struga, just round the lake from Ohrid town |
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| Edd vs Food #70 Drum roll...orchestral swell...hold the front page... A vegetarian meal! At a vegetarian restaurant, indeed. Falafel, hummus & sundries. Really nice. And cheap as chips. At Dr Falafel, Ohrid |
Tuesday 13 November 2018
Skopje, Macedonia
Most of you will already know that Alexander the Great was Macedonian. The rest of you would find out pretty quick if you came here. Macedonia's capital is an absolute orgy of homage to its imperial past, with statues and monuments and Neoclassical architecture everywhere.
Admittedly it's all very impressive. But at the same time there is a sense that they're trying just a little bit too hard; one feels rather too heavily the weight of a national chip on a national shoulder. Even the statues of the Mothers Of Macedonia, breastfeeding their infants, seem to have been sculpted to appear more intimidatingly buxom than the Mothers Of Lesser Countries.
And, frankly, it's all ever so slightly fake. Most of what you see in the pictures below has been built only in the past decade or two, and at considerable expense. Sometimes you feel like you're in ancient Greece or Rome, but more often you feel like you're in Las Vegas.
There are three things to be said in favour of all this. Firstly, the city was levelled in a 1963 earthquake and they had to put up something to replace it; secondly, it's been a successful tourist draw and thus an important earner of foreign currency (mainly from Germans and Italians); thirdly, Neoclassicism can be a bit kitsch but it's still preferable to the living death of glass'n'steel in which most capital cities are wreathed nowadays. I must also concede that it's a bit rich for a Briton to deride another country's attempts at celebrating their imperial past...
Well, anyway, good luck to them. It all makes for decent photos.
Admittedly it's all very impressive. But at the same time there is a sense that they're trying just a little bit too hard; one feels rather too heavily the weight of a national chip on a national shoulder. Even the statues of the Mothers Of Macedonia, breastfeeding their infants, seem to have been sculpted to appear more intimidatingly buxom than the Mothers Of Lesser Countries.
And, frankly, it's all ever so slightly fake. Most of what you see in the pictures below has been built only in the past decade or two, and at considerable expense. Sometimes you feel like you're in ancient Greece or Rome, but more often you feel like you're in Las Vegas.
There are three things to be said in favour of all this. Firstly, the city was levelled in a 1963 earthquake and they had to put up something to replace it; secondly, it's been a successful tourist draw and thus an important earner of foreign currency (mainly from Germans and Italians); thirdly, Neoclassicism can be a bit kitsch but it's still preferable to the living death of glass'n'steel in which most capital cities are wreathed nowadays. I must also concede that it's a bit rich for a Briton to deride another country's attempts at celebrating their imperial past...
Well, anyway, good luck to them. It all makes for decent photos.
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| Archaelogical Museum |
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| Museum Of The Macedonian Struggle (yes it's really called that) The slightly creepy appearance of the river is due to the long exposure of the photo. |
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| Another angle of the Archeological Museum |
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| Ridiculously big statue of Alexander the Great (here they call him 'Alexander of Macedon', just in case anybody forgets) |
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| They may have 30 copies of 'Mein Kampf' on display, but they also have 9 books by Nelson Mandela. So that's alright then. |
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| Edd vs Food #69 Chicken and grilled cheese at Kaj Serdarot Not all that great. Off-season tourist food. |
Thursday 8 November 2018
Pristina, Kosovo
Kosovo is disputed territory. The Kosovans say it's Kosovan, and the Serbians say it's Serbian. NATO intervention in 1999 was in favour of the former, and this is why Pristina has a big statue of Bill Clinton, standing under a big portrait of Bill Clinton, on Bill Clinton Boulevard; which, if you follow it all the way, takes a quick turn up Monica Lewinsky Alley. (OK that last bit isn't true).
Possibly not everyone knows that nails-on-blackboard warbler turned wry Twitter wit James Blunt was formerly an officer in the British Army and played quite a significant role during that 1999 intervention. I mention him only because hearing one of his ghastly ditties in a bar has been just about the only unpleasant thing about my time here. Pristina is crowded, run-down, polluted and poor; but that's no reason not to visit. Some of the cafes here are as good as anything anywhere.
My one concrete gripe is the cashpoint machines. They all charge a flat withdrawal fee of 5 euros a go, and also they dish out ridiculously large notes. What, in the name of all that's holy, am I supposed to do with a 100-euro note, in a country where an espresso costs 80 cents and people suck their teeth if you try to change a five? More to the point, why do 100 and 200 and 500 euro notes even exist at all, other than to facilitate smuggling and money laundering?
I did eventually get rid of that 100 euro note by purchasing a pair of quite obviously counterfeit Converse trainers. We'll see how long they last.
Possibly not everyone knows that nails-on-blackboard warbler turned wry Twitter wit James Blunt was formerly an officer in the British Army and played quite a significant role during that 1999 intervention. I mention him only because hearing one of his ghastly ditties in a bar has been just about the only unpleasant thing about my time here. Pristina is crowded, run-down, polluted and poor; but that's no reason not to visit. Some of the cafes here are as good as anything anywhere.
My one concrete gripe is the cashpoint machines. They all charge a flat withdrawal fee of 5 euros a go, and also they dish out ridiculously large notes. What, in the name of all that's holy, am I supposed to do with a 100-euro note, in a country where an espresso costs 80 cents and people suck their teeth if you try to change a five? More to the point, why do 100 and 200 and 500 euro notes even exist at all, other than to facilitate smuggling and money laundering?
I did eventually get rid of that 100 euro note by purchasing a pair of quite obviously counterfeit Converse trainers. We'll see how long they last.
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| From my hotel room window. The entrance to the American embassy at left, and FC Pristina playing at home in the distance. |
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| Double Bill (see above) |
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| Mother Teresa Cathedral |
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| The university of Pristina's library building |
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| Smog & traffic at sunset |
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| Christ the Saviour Cathedral |
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| Edd vs Food #68 Pepper stuffed with beef & cheese, on mashed potato At the Miqt Taverna |
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