Skopje to Sarajevo – a terrible bus ride


Our few days in Skopje were over, and our next steps were to bus over to Bosnia. We had read that there were fairly frequent busses running between the cities so it shouldn’t have been a problem. The first sign that maybe we chose the wrong method of transit was the friendly lady manning the ticket counter at the station explained that the only buses out were on Wednesday and Sunday at 8 pm and would take about 10 hours. We bought our tickets for the Wednesday bus. Overnights aren’t usually a problem, and we’ve done our fair share of them so far.


The streetlight lit walk back to the station – mercifully short with all of our gear.


It seemed like a normal economy bus line. We were early to try and get a decent seat for my legs – the buses in eastern Europe are a bit cramped.


Our bags below and the bus full, we take off. A man in front of us to the left was very friendly and told us all about his adventures hiking in Bulgaria, the mountains he’d climbed, and the state of the local soccer clubs. He was on his way to Sarajevo for a match – something he said he does fairly frequently.


They gather up our passports in anticipation of the border crossing.


At about this time I tried to use the bathroom. It was locked. Maybe it was just for the border crossing I thought. Someone told me something in Macedonian and I missed the nuance. After the border I would try again. Same result though, the man was telling me the bathroom was out of service. The bathroom is probably always out of service.


Shortly thereafter, the conductor comes back to us and asks us to move. This we learn in loud tones and with help from our soccer fan friend. It’s not entirely clear why, and since we weren’t told anything when we got on, we stay in our seats. An explanation comes out – the conductor, who is also the alternate bus driver, needs to sleep. Ok, somewhat reasonable. We agree to move and the conductor, realizing that we’re together, asks another lady to please move from her seat so that we can sit together instead of separately. We didn’t feel great about this, but it was nice to at least keep sitting together. The lady definitely did not feel great about this.


The scene that played out afterward could have been from any Three Stooges film. As everyone did their best to sleep, a noise started. A squeak that came in and out, sometimes louder, sometimes softer, never quite on any particular beat. It drove the sleeping conductor mad. Panels were pushed and examined, seats were raised, bags were shifted. The attempt to find the source of the noise was in vain. Finally, after several passengers helped in the search, someone stuffed a blanket between two roof panels near the back seat. It didn’t solve the noise, but everyone involved felt like something had been done, so it was time to try sleeping again.


Dawn came, and whatever kind of rest we can get on a bus was gotten. All told not too bad. 20171005_081949

Our conductor and football friend slept on.


Outside, the Bosnian landscape went by. We had passed through Serbia in the middle of the night. Oddly I don’t remember crossing the border into Bosnia, but Natalie does. She remembers it as being very, very cold, at around 4am.

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Several hours of sunrise follow. The landscape and scenery is really quite pretty.

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Finally, sometime early in the morning, we get let off at a restaurant/bus stop.


Bathrooms are first priority. After that I go to browse the snacks and food available. It turns out they only accept Bosnian currency, and only in cash. As a point of interest it’s nearly impossible to get Bosnian currency anywhere except inside the country, and there are no ATMs nearby. We dig in to what’s left of our travel snacks.


The bus ride at this point continues on. We had been pretty firmly told that it would be 10 hours. Well, actually 12 hours corrected the driver mid way. Actually, the trip ran on for more than 15 hours. The internet confirms this is about the time it takes, but nobody on the ground was giving that number.


It’s time to get off the bus!


Natalie took this picture at the moment of her escape. We would later discover that sadly, her crocheted orange owl had stayed on the bus, its loop snapped off when the bag was jammed under the seat during our seat change.


One last look at our bus..


Sweet freedom! The station had an ATM, and a bakery. Bosnia has amazing baked goods, and extremely nice people. The lady at the bakery very kindly took my 50 mark to pay for a 3 mark piece of pie. It’s like buying a stick of gum with a hundred dollar bill. Change and food in hand, we got on the metro system and headed to our hostel!

Can we recommend visiting Skopje? Yes. Can we recommend visiting Sarajevo? Absolutely! Can we recommend the bus between them? No. Fifteen hours on a bus with no bathroom is not great. Unless you’re on a tight budget, take the flight. It’s supposed to be much easier.


Macro shots on Mt.Vodno


Our hike at the edge of Skopje took a while not just because of the distance, but also because we spent a lot of time taking close up shots of beautiful flowers and animals along the trail. This guy is probably an Erhard’s Wall Lizard.


A lovely Crimson Scabious. They were everywhere at the start of the hike.


This looks like it might be the same as the Crimson, but dry and ready to send out seeds.


What would have been a delicious Chicken-of-the-Woods, but had been already eaten. We found and cooked one of these once, they really do taste and feel just like chicken. (Do not eat wild mushrooms unless you are absolutely confident you can properly identify them)


This is a type of Cyclamen. They are beautiful and absolutely everywhere wherever there is shade. We found an entire tree tunnel lined with them near the end of the hike – a carpet of pink and purple.


This is the leaf of the Cyclamen. Interestingly, they’re usually a good distance from the flower clusters.

Unknown, possibly Armeria vulgaris?

After this start the insects!
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This reminds me very much of the weta. It’s actually a type of saddleback bush cricket.


Possibly a type of locust? Nope. It’s a Predatory Bush Cricket. It’s also known as the spiked magician and it eats other crickets, among many other things.


It was huge. This is a 6.5 inch phone for reference. This bug is a fairly uncommon sighting.


A lovely brown grasshopper of some sort.


And a very similar looking one in bright green. Maybe female and male of the same species?


And the latest in our unending search for jumping spiders. This little guy has a meal in his mouth.


The natural beauty of Macedonia!

Hiking in Skopje, Mount Vodno


Mount Vodno girds the southwest side of Skopje and towers over the city. It’s not a giant mountain by any means, thought it is nearly 3500 feet at the highest peak. Incidentally, that’s where this hike really starts. The first task is to get from the city up to the mountain. It may be possible to drive all the way to the starting point at the cross, but we found the road to be blocked. Instead our taxi dropped us off at a picnic area by the start of the gondola which takes people up to the cross. Since we were way, way early, we chose to walk up the switchbacks to the peak.


We hiked up the road, taking shortcuts as we found them. For most of the larger switchbacks, there is a small dirt path that leads up the middle, cutting out most of the switchback in exchange for a slightly steeper climb. It’s well worth it.


By the time we reached the peak and the famous cross, the gondola was nearly ready to start ferrying people up. We helped a group of runners take some photos, and off we went.


Past the cross, things get easier. It’s really mostly downhill from here, though the trail is hard to keep track of at times.


We thought we could see a path in the rocks, and went with it.


The view of the city is the best from here, though we were still early enough that the morning fog had not burned off. For great city shots, later in the day would be better. Later in the day unfortunately comes with more sun and baking heat. The Mt. Vodno hike is hot. Not blistering desert hot, but definitely sunscreen, wide hat, and water hot. I forgot my hat on this of all days, and suffered for it.


At this point we continued up what we thought was the trail – in the early parts of the hike there really is only one path, and it’s pretty easy to keep straight. It follows the curvy mountain topography pretty well though, so there are plenty of ups and downs.


We found this amazingly unhelpful map. Maybe in Macedonia all maps are like this and locals can read it just fine. It took us forever to figure out what was going on though – you can see the start of our hike at the end of the yellow line, and then a strange sort of perspective leading forwards towards the famed Matka lake.


We found this campsite, so we were probably on the right path. GPS at this point showed we were on the main trail, so all was well.


Shortly after, we stumbled on this thing. The camo paintjob says military, but the vibe was entirely X-files.

IMG_4123 A huge garage, for anti-aircraft guns probably. IMG_4138

While we were exploring, we’d hear melodic bells from time to time. Initially this was alarming, but it turned out to be just cows grazing on the mountainside. Each one has a bell tuned to a different note, either for a feeling of peace and tranquility, or to tell the cows apart. Either way, much nicer than a standard cowbell.


This was one of the stranger parts of the complex. It looked like a former office or apartment of some sort. There was once definitely a heavy door here when it was operational.


This is inside the door. It looked vaguely recently inhabited so we decided not to probe much further. Whether it’s the cow herder who lives here or someone else, the structure is definitely occupied at least periodically. The graffiti was not super interesting – pretty typical name and slur scrawl.


After the base we kept walking, and got pretty well lost. Not lost in terms of location or direction, but lost in terms of the path. It branched, unbeknownst to us, and we had taken the upwards route. Unfortunately, we didn’t think this would connect with the trail we knew we wanted to take down to Lake Matka. What to do? We went off-trail, into the dusty, spiny-tree filled hillside. There were no clear paths and the sun was baking at this point. It took us a good half hour to come to this sign surrounded by trees in an otherwise dusty red expanse. We actually went the wrong way here as well, and it took a bit to realize before we turned back. The correct path to get to Matka is behind the sign, not past it with the sign on your right. This really is the only indicator in the area and it’s pretty tough to see from the trail we came in on.


The trail from here until the next peak was this reddish dirt, scrubland. It’s somewhat easy to follow after the sign, though we did come on some further difficulty up ahead.


We came upon this sign telling us we were still going the right way. These are invaluable on the trail as the trail markers are fairly well worn and sometimes mislead.  Be warned, the hours and minutes on these things are totally off. The top one says 3.5 hours to Vodno, and the bottom says 25 minutes to Matka. Both of these were off by at least a factor of 1.5 or 2.


We crested our current trail and found a sign pointing to our destination!


From this little grassy outcrop we found what we thought was the trail, leading pretty steeply down the mountainside. It was doable – Natalie went down a ways to check, but ultimately not the right direction. That was a little off to the side.


While we were there, we got this amazing view of the river Treska way down below. We didn’t have very far left to go and we would have to descend all the way down.


Here started out descent. We first came basically right up to this rocky peak, and then the downhill started in earnest.


The footing here is pretty bad – mostly loose gravel so it’s entirely possible to pick up a little speed and slide right off the sharply angled switchbacks. Caution is highly recommended.


This part of the mountain had burned in a recent fire. Much like Bulgaria, Macedonia was suffering its own drought. The mountain was dry and dusty the whole way here, and now we saw what looked like pretty extensive burns on the river facing side.


After some scrabbling and sliding down the mountain, we came to a shady, forested path along the river. We continued down it for a bit until we got to a makeshift bridge that got us to the river itself. Sweet frigid relief!


After about six hours of hiking this was the best feeling – our feet went numb pretty quickly and the pain relief followed. The drop in body temperature was a welcome thing – up until now we had been sweating profusely.


The section of river we were in was mostly shallows, fairly slow moving. The rocks underfoot were pretty painful, round and knobbly. Despite this, we walked around, explored, and skipped some stones for a bit before we continued on. Though we had reached the river, this was not our final destination.


We continued our path along the river, looking for a chance to cross.


That came some way down, where there were a series of steel bridges going from one side to the other. They also went to a man-made concrete divider in the middle of the river, which we chose to explore. Not much there, except for another chance to finish crossing, so thankfully we weren’t forced to turn around.


The river looked ok – not super healthy but also not entirely choked out by algae and seaweed.


A fair walk from where we descended was the first true sign of tourist activity – this dam. There’s a little parking lot just before it, and this is where most visitors to Matka come.


Past the dam is a dock and a restaurant, and past that is a cliff-side walkway that continues on for a very, very long way. We’re not sure where it ends but we walked for about 20 minutes before turning around to try and catch a boat to the famous caves.


To get to the caves, you can go by canoe. This takes about an hour one way and we were exhausted and running short on time.


We chose instead option number B – the motor boat. This came with a guide and a somewhat hefty fee – one or two thousand denar for two people. It wasn’t unaffordable, but it first blush it was quite a bit for an hourlong tour.


We had to wait a bit for the boat to fill up, so I sat and petted the local semi-stray dog. He was super friendly, but extremely dirty. Well fed, but not often washed it seems.


Our guide took us down the river with expert skill and speed. We couldn’t really hear much over the motor but he was pretty funny.


Some people apparently live right on the river and get to and from home by boat.


About 20 minutes in we started rounding the bend of the river. Shortly after, we came to our first caves.


This was the first set, and the only one that we could walk in since the water was lower than the cave entrance. Our guide spun up a diesel motor which ran the lights in the cave, and in we went!


Down a few flights of stairs we got to see where the water level was. This is part of a huge underwater cave system, and the locals speculate it’s probably the largest underwater cave in the world. That’s currently held by the Sac Actun in the Yucatan, but with further exploration, who knows?


I got a chance to talk with our guide quite a bit. His English was ok but his Bulgarian was better. We chatted about the difference between our countries. He turns out to be from Albania – he and his parents moved to Macedonia for the stronger economy, or perhaps fleeing as refugees. He said that he wants to go visit Bulgaria one day. His friends go fairly regularly he said, and they really love everywhere they’ve seen. In their eyes Bulgaria is a model for what Macedonia might become one day if things continue to improve. This was a new perspective for me. Comparing Bulgaria to the rest of the western world would never yield such a high opinion, but here we were in Macedonia where they thought my home country was fantastic. He said he hoped that Macedonia would receive EU funding just like we had, and that the next election would determine the course of the future – if the old guard (and corruption) won, the EU would abandon them. If the new guard (and probably less corruption) won, then the EU would gladly provide funding for infrastructure and other improvements.


Our tour of the first cave being over, we got back on the boat and went to look at the second. This was only visible from the river, for obvious reasons we couldn’t go inside. Our guide told us that spelunkers came every year to map out further and further depths in the cave, and that they hadn’t yet reached an end.


Sunset hit right around this time and we headed back to the dock. I talked more with our guide about his hopes for the country and himself, and which parts of Bulgaria he would like to visit. Apparently Varna is pretty popular. From the dock we had to walk back to where we thought the bus would be. We were wrong about that. The bus was actually near the Be-Ka Market at Glumovo, a 40 minute walk away. The next #12 was coming in in only 40 minutes, so we walked at a pretty fast clip to catch it. The walk is along a fairly quiet but large road, so cars were always an issue. Once nearby, we got some snacks at a local grocery store and hopped on the bus. My Macedonian failed me and instead of taking us to the city center where we should have hopped off, we stayed on the bus until it went straight into the boonies. We had to wait until it turned around and brought us near-ish to the hostel area before getting off again – many thanks to the young lady who helped us figure out where we needed to be!


Since this hike was fairly poorly laid out in the middle section, we made a photo map of it. We didn’t take any pictures in the section where we were lost – the middle from the end of the mapped trail to the next sign, but this gives a sense of direction for that portion. The starting parking lot (where the gondola is) is the blue marker to the right.


The ancient village at Cape Atanas


Near the white cliffs is a relatively unassuming stop. At the cape of St. Atanas sits a Late Antiquity fortress. It was a small village and fort at an optimal geographical area – close to the sea for access by boat, in a tight corner for defense. It was inhabited until about 600 AD, at which point its residents packed up their belongings, burned their houses, and left, apparently in an organized fashion. It’s a rich site, featuring artisanal structures, religious buildings, and many, many examples of clay artifacts that were made on site.


The walk leading up to it is pretty nondescript. There’s some seating, a small museum, and a little toll booth. The entry fee is a few dollars per person. It gets you entrance to the museum as well, but that was closed for the season when we arrived.


One of the main draws is that this is an active archeological site. During the summer season, work progresses year after year to uncover more and more of the settlement. Here is an open pit with a few clay pieces left in place as they were found. More than just viewing the artifacts in context, the actual work of archeology is on display.


And how is the relative luxury of archeology funded? The EU! As with any EU involved project, there’s a huge sign near the entrance stating how much money was granted, and what its purpose is. This one, a bit generically, reads as : For the cultural and historical edification of the Byala Region, and to turn it into a major tourist attraction.


Not only was the village equipped for clay-working, it was also well situated to take advantage of the amazing grape growing climate. This is an ancient grape press (wooden portions restored) and a massive clay vessel to hold the juice that poured out. The dioramas are a nice touch. They’re museum quality, and they really help bring the exhibits to life. This is one of the things that would certainly not have been present without outside funds.


Along with pots and amphoras, the village made tons of clay tile and brick. The tiles are marked with wide, rough patterns, each corresponding to the person who made that tile. The marking was how they tallied who made how much at the end of the day and gave wages from that count. Some of the tiles are simple X’s or lines, but this one is a lovely wind or vine pattern.


This is an early christian baptismal fountain. Bulgaria was, and is, Eastern Orthodox. Despite only becoming the state religion in the 9th century, it had roots in the Balkans since the time of Paul the Apostle. It was officially adopted as the state religion in the 9th century, due to cultural influence from Byzantium.


At the end of the archeological walk is a piece of the fortress that once stood and guarded the town. It’s worth getting to the end of the loops because that’s where the actual in-progress excavation is. It’s not every day we get to see an active archeological site, so that was a real treat. It was, unfortunately, closed for the season, but with any luck excavation will continue here for many years to come. It’s a very nice change seeing the attention paid to historical sites in Bulgaria now. We have come a long way from the days of looting sites to sell the artifacts and repurpose the bricks.



Fossicking at the White Cliffs


To the north of Burgas are the White Cliffs. They’re a spectacular natural site, towering over the Black Sea and contrasting the dark water with their bright white rock. I want to say limestone or mudstone is what they’re made of – they’re white and beige up close, densely layered, and quite flaky.



Getting to the beach is actually pretty hard. First, there are the cliffs. They stand several stories over the beach and don’t usually offer any sort of path down. The ramps to the beach are all a little bit closer to the nearby town than to the actual google map point for ‘White Cliffs’. We wound up parking the car near some condo/apartment construction and walking the rest of the way down. The part of town we were in was almost entirely Russian. In fact, we encountered some Russian tourists looking to find a way down to the beach just like we were! We chatted for a bit, but they left before we found our route down.


This was one of the ramps we found that would take us to the shore.


And the wide open beach! We were not alone, but there were very few people in September – it’s rather cold and the swimming season is pretty much over.


The beautiful cliffs themselves. The weather down here changes pretty rapidly. When it was sunny it was very hot and we were under threat of burning, having lost our awesome South America tans. When it got cloudy, which was often and rapid, the weather turned cold and windy. It looked and felt a lot like the Del Mar cliffs in San Diego, except that those are sandstone.


So why did we decide to go through all the trouble of going there? Well, first we expected getting down to the beach would be easier and it would be really nice to go out on a nature walk. But really, we went for fossils. The White Cliffs region, and the area around it, was once underwater. There are a large amount of fossils to be found in the rubble and beach rocks on the shore. We brought a little shovel, a bucket, and a sieve.


This is the cliff wall up close. Some of the looser bits fall right out, but actually finding the fossil layer is a task left to those better learned than us. It turns out we didn’t really need any of our tools – we don’t know enough about where to look for fossils, other than to poke through the rubble piles and hope. Our best luck was actually combing the beach for rocks.


Here you can see part of a spiral shaped shell. It’s not the fantastic fossils we have seen online while searching for good locations, but it’s still pretty cool! It took us a while to figure out where we actually needed to go around the coast to get to fossils – there are a surprising number of mineral and fossil hunters in Bulgaria, and it was my job to hunt those down and translate their maps and hunting tips. The whole of the coast “has fossils”, but getting down to a specific location turned out to be quite hard. Next time we visit we might try and go with one of their hobby groups out on a hunting hike!




Burgas, euro-costal city


Burgas is an interesting place. On the Black Sea coast, it straddles the beach town / industrial city divide very well. As one of the more prosperous cities in Bulgaria, the quality of life here is very good, and most tourists would feel right at home. I’ve always seen it as that really nice city by the sea, and now that my uncle lives there, we got to take a closer look.


From what we could see, Burgas divides into roughly three zones. This is a shot of the pedestrian inner-city. It’s somewhat removed from the beach, and it is a drive away from the outer ring where most people tend to live in highrise apartment buildings. The center of the city, as with many Bulgarian cities, is dominated by a pedestrian only promenade. This one stretches for at least a half hour of walking, if not longer. People meander along the promenade as a daily activity – there are plenty of snack stalls, restaurants, and sights to see.


The center has lots of older buildings – a lovely hram – a cathedral, dedicated to St. Cyril and Methodius, founders of the Cyrillic alphabet.


Much like Plovdiv and Sofia, Burgas is trying to expose some of its ancient history, and here we see a tomb from a time long passed. It’s a nice thing to see – everywhere around the country there is a growing awareness of the history of our lands. It used to be commonplace for looters to dig through historical sites and leave them barren and ruined. There seems to be more care now.


One of the many snack vendors along the walk. This one is selling corn, and a pop-up convenience store is next door. Boiled corn is a favorite treat as in many other countries. There is a lot of writing in English here. The city is well known for tourism and so it is slightly easier to get around than some of the others. Along with the euro-tourism, there is a large contingent of Russians living in the city permanently. You can find Russian delis and candy shops all over the place. For us it was a nice reminder of our time in Russia, I am not sure how the locals feel about it.


Burgas is remarkably clean. One of the major reasons, it seemed, were these trashcans placed all around the city. I think Bulgaria has benefited greatly from EU money, and in exchange the EU wants to buy diplomacy and fond feelings. Every project that has EU money in it has a prominent display of just how much, and how it was made possible by that grant. These trashcans are an interesting and very visible example of that.


Keep walking down the promenade and eventually it comes to a sea-side park. The park is at the top of those stairs that sort of look like a gundam and the sea is behind us in this shot. The park is really nice actually, a long stretch of green deep enough to leave the traffic noise behind. When I was here last it had a bit of a neo-nazi graffiti problem, which seems to have been cleaned away.


The Black Sea! One of Bulgaria’s sources of pride. Shared by Romania, Ukraine ,Turkey, Russia, and Georgia, it is a an active trading sea and massive tourist draw. Russians and Europeans alike love coming to Sunny Beach, one of the coastal resort towns for a dirt cheap seaside vacation. I personally have very fond memories of vacationing on its shores, though not in Burgas. To get to the vacation-y parts you have to go north or south. Burgas’ industries would make me a bit hesitant to swim right there.


This is a view from our apartment near the city center. There are fancier places like the ones in the top photo, but they’re really for those who are very well off. This is ‘affordable’ wealthy in Bulgaria. Everyone else lives outside the center in winding clusters of apartment buildings.


Next time, exploring the coast around Burgas!


In Memoriam, a Bulgarian Tradition


Wander around any city in Bulgaria and you’ll eventually come across printed papers with people’s pictures on them, some dates, and a little bit of text. People sometimes think they’re wanted posters or missing persons posters, but it’s not. This is how we show and share our grief when someone passes away. It’s traditional for family members to print these and put them up all around the area where the person lived, near apartment building entrances, along the street on electrical posts, and on the sides of buildings. They are ubiquitous around the country, effectively omnipresent in daily life.


All necrologs follow the same basic pattern. This has changed over time to become a bit simpler and less verbose, but the main points have held. Normally there is the main title at the top of the page, in most cases it is “In memory”, but if the person recently passed away it might say something more specific. Then comes the date and number of years since their death, and then the name. Following that is usually some kind words about the person, and then a sign off from whoever posted the necrolog.

It used to be that the next of kin, or even entire family trees, were printed at the bottom of the page, but these days it’s almost always something simple like ‘the family’ or ‘the bereaved’ or ‘from the close relatives’. The words or epitaph are usually focused on extolling virtues of the person and describing lamentations of the relatives, how much they miss them. Other times it can be a poem, or something very simple like “They left too soon” or “They were loved and are missed”.


You can see in this picture that the memoriam is for the same person, and the 8 and 9 in the two posters is for how many years have passed since the person’s death. It is tradition to put up a round of necrologs several times during the first year after death, and then once per year on the anniversary of their death. For this reason it’s fairly common to see multiple, slightly different necrologs for the same person in a given area.

The pervasiveness of necrologs makes for an interesting cultural relationship with death and grieving. When I was younger I found them to be a saddening sight, sort of a constant reminder of death. As an adult I am not affected in the same way – these necrologs as we call them are a tribute, a sharing of grief, a way to preserve someone’s memory. They are not joyous in the tradition of the Day of the Dead, but they are also not exceptionally sad. The words from relatives and families are often beautiful, a heartfelt expression of the value that the person brought to their lives. They remind us of the people we have lost, and they ensure that a person is remembered in their neighborhood for many years after their passing.