The Impetus

The other day I bought this book.

I based my purchasing decision largely on the title. But also on the fact that Harvey Pekar was involved.

All those years ago, when on my OE, Macedonia became one of my favourite countries. Primarily, I think, because I was on holiday. I wasn't travelling or feeling I had to move on. I had the best part of a week there with very little to do.

So I did very little.

I spent a few unhurried days in the capital, Skopje.

I got accosted by a gang of kids. The girls in the gang refused to be photographed. I got proposed to.

I wandered around and took photos.

After a couple of days I headed west to Lake Ohrid.

I fell in love with the place.

Everyday I went to the same store for bread and cheese. Every evening I went to the same restaurant for pizza or pasta.

I wandered around the ruins of the citadel.

And pretty much everyday I walked out along the lakeside to a lovely Byzantine church.

It was a beautiful, peaceful spot, overlooking Albania.

I liked just sitting there. Staring. Reading. Sometimes inside the church. Usually outside.

One day, being so hot, I went for a swim in the lake. I suspect it was that which caused me about 8 weeks of minor, but annoying, gastro-intestinal issues.

Not having any means of transport beyond my feet, and knowing that I had been everywhere and seen everything in town, it was really pleasant being able to get up around 10am and wander down to the lakefront with my bread and cheese, and stare.

After Ohrid, I went back to Skopje and then on to Athens. Fully rested and prepared for a further 6 months of travel.

Macedonia, the book, has opened my eyes to a history I was entirely ignorant of. The joys of being a tourist is that you don't always see what's under the surface. And it seems that there was an awful lot under the surface that I missed.