een stukje van onze reis vanuit een ander perspectief. Van Charles, Diana en Nicole uit The U.S.A met wie we een paar dagen zijn opgereden.

Saturday

DAY 46

Friday 26 August 2011

Just after leaving Lapad we stopped for breakfast with a spectacular view of Dubrovnik from a fewmiles straight up from the city. Curving along the coastal roads was harrowing at times because ofthe flimsy-looking guard rail that was the only thing between the road and a sheer drop miles down.

Looking back on Dubrovnik

We wanted one last dip in the Adriatic in Croatia, so we drove down a long country road to Camp.Monika (thinking of Dian's sister Monica, of course). Instead of continuing to the actual camp, wepulled into a parking area where we saw a family eating their breakfast next to a van similar to ours,except theirs was adorned with photo-stickers of family friends all around the top part of the van.

We met the Dutch family of Mories, Isabel, Miro and Goya and found out they were also traveling

for a year... to CHINA! (Bhutan, to be exact.) Since our paths were the same for the next few days

and since we were going through some mountainous terrain we thought a 'caravan' would be agood idea, so off we went to our 12th country, Montenegro. The huge lake was stunningly

surrounded by the majestic 'black mountains.'

Preparing for spaghetti dinner

When we passed through the border and had our passports stamped we were relieved to see that weweren't on the other side where the line stretched down a steep mountainside for at least amile. Navigating can be tough even with good maps and GPS so it was especially pleasant tojust follow the Dutch van. With two boys, aged 10 and 8, it was important to them to dunk in the seaas soon as possible so we found a beach, only to be informed we were on a 'private beach' (by twofeet) designated by a string in the sand. So we moved over two feet. No international incident. Wedrove more and later found a tiny camp on the beach and had spaghetti a la Mories amongst 400-year-old olive trees, and lemon, pomegranate and grape arbors.

Montenegro

Saturday

DAY 47

Saturday 27 August 2011

We left the seaside camp at noon after a swim (not as hot as the day before, thank God), then

avoided an overcharge to both families for our camp stay through Dian's toughness when she wentto pay, and headed for 'forbidden' Albania.

Near the border we saw a guy on his old tractor, chugging along.... while yacking on his cell phone.We saw women in traditional garb -- gypsies? A Montenegran car suddenly passed and swerved tooclose to the Dutch van! -- did he hit them? We pulled over and talked, they didn't think so, but sureenough there was some paint gone in that very spot. More gypsies (?) We passed minarets,buildings trying to be modern but clueless. Garish colors.

We crossed into Albania (country #13!), aimed for the capital, Tirane. Graffiti featured the scary-

looking Albanian black double-headed eagle, and on the side of a mountain was written, in English,'Welcome to Albania -- students of Vitrinal.' We began to see many Mercedes and gas stations,called Castrati, others named Crappi and a truck graveyard on the side of the main highway to thecapital plus a cow in someone's front yard. There was some trepidation about entering a Co unistcountry but we soon found that the Albanian people were gems.

Stopping at an Internet cafe so Charles could send his articles to the Santa Monica Daily Press, hewas treated with exceptional courtesy and customer service beyond imagination, and when Dianand Nicole showed up the owner treated each of the to bottled fruit juices. The rest of the grouptook care of errands. Mories had a key made, Isabel bought some things at the apothecary and

Nicole was given a container of lotion by the pharmacist who was excited to meet such foreigners.All were greeted with the same friendliness and service.

Isabel and Mories had needed to find a fitting for their gas canister, so we stopped to check out astore carrying all they could ever want in the way of camping gas, only to find it was closed. Wewere about to leave when Dian saw it was just opening. Our caravan screeched to a halt.

To make a long story longer, we couldn't co unicate with the store owner until a man named

Bruno walked up and, speaking Italian and German, was able to translate through Isabel their needs.Leaving on two bicycles to weave through Tirane rush hour traffic more quickly, Moreis and Brunowere successful in finding a second camping store, and what a sight it was to see him come aroundthe bend holding a large can of gas under one arm while steering with another.

Bruno was our new 'best friend.' He invited us to park near his apartment and use his facilities, andled us to his favorite restaurant across the street where the eight of us feasted on unending rounds ofbeef, chicken and pork, with all the side dishes and seven beers for a mere $64. We're loving

Albania.

Saturday

DAY 48

Sunday 28 August 2011

We awoke with the mission to get better drops forNicole's pink eye. After graciously letting us use his restroom, our friend Bruno assured useverything was open on Sunday (oh yeah, that's right, an emerging former godless Co uniststate) and we set out unsure of what we would find. What we found was a small pharmacy wherethe man first offered what seemed to be only contact wetting drops, but after more gesturing and alook at Nicole's eyes he seemed to understand, got on the phone for advice, then got out his ladderand climbed up to take a small package off the top shelf. He said we needed a prescription for it,then at least a passport (we usually had that, but didn't that time), then finally wrote the prescriptionhimself and stamped it with something official-looking, and we were very grateful, though still notsure we had the right stuff. One of our pre-trip nightmares, getting sick somewhere where no onespeaks each other's language and trying to get the right treatment, was a reality (but at least it wasn't

something far worse).

The recipients of Isabel and Mories' hats

We took off from our privileged parking in front of Bruno's place for a long drive towards the Greekborder where we traveled some scary high mountain roads (with little or no barrier) the rival ofCroatia or Montenegro and pulled over for a coffee refresher at a restaurant with a great view.... ofan industrial town way below. The more interesting view was across the street, where a local hadthree sheep carcasses strung up and proceeded to strip them of their wool coats by hand, then chopoff spare parts like heads and testicles (probably for use in soups or something). We were kind offascinated, but it turned out to Mories and the boys it was old hat because he used to do that whenhe was a boy on the farm, and his boys too. A wedding party pulled up at the restaurant -- we hadseen a lot of them that day (again, so much for Albanian co unism). Three young boys werehanging around the vans and Isabel asked them if they had caps. No, too expensive, came the reply.So she climbed up top and opened a big silver chest and pulled out Nike hats for all. (Nike was oneof her flower shop accounts in Holland, and when they heard of her trip to Bhutan with her MagicHares they gave a slew of promotional hats to hand out along the way). Photos and big smiles allaround.

A later stop for gas ended with large

misco unication (to put it kindly) about whether or not credit cards were accepted, and what the

cash exchange rate would be for Albanian kuna. It resulted in wasted time finding an ATM in a verysmall town nearby, after leaving parts of the family as voluntary hostages. War avoided, we decidedto stop for the night at a small town jutting out into a very big lake that we saw on the map; Lin,before deciding on our final route towards Greece, through Macedonia or dropping down furtherinto Albania.

With the Dutch family in the lead, we drove downanother of those streets that could lead to gold or to getting stuck when the street ran out. Where thestreet ran out... we found gold, room enough for two vans right by the water. (But Charles had tomove the van four times that evening as trucks, big trucks, came in. But no problem, said thesmiling locals. Do you think that would happen in the US? No -- Hey, what do you think you'redoing, camping where we live and work? Get lost!) Just before we got there we were surprised tosee a tour group marching along, even more surprised to see our lead car stop and talk with them --they were Dutch, in this small out-of-the-way village, but as Mories later said, sun and cheap prices,that's what the Dutch like. Turns out this Macedonian-based company brings in groups fromNetherlands twice a week, all the way through October. Both tour group leaders advised us to takethe northern route through Macedonia, much better roads, so that clinched it.

We quickly made friends with our new local neighbors, learned names and some Albanian

words, attracted kids, swam, hung out. This was a real deal village. Goats being milked, an old manbent half over and leaning heavily on his cane, two beautiful toothless old women named Olga andGeorgina, Donika who offered us coffee and told us in a very loud voice more than once how shewent to New Jersey when she was a young girl, and the genial older man who offered us hishomemade raki as we started on our stroll (it was good, and strong). We walked all the way back tothe town square, stopping in shops to buy cleanser, beer and food. We passed a small white churchon the hill, then on the way back Dian and Nicole went up and were invited in by an older mansitting on the porch, who proudly showed them some fairly amazing artwork, icons and chandeliers,and a 4th Century mosaic on the floor. Fourth Century. Just past the square we saw a man lead hiscow down to the lake to drink, gingerly avoiding smoldering fires, and when the old girl hadenough he whistled her back to him.

After yet another great Mories dinner, Charles decided to take a late night stroll back up the sameroad. Just past 9, he encountered maybe seven or eight groups of two or three young people, talking,strolling, sitting in a doorway, and by the time he headed back from the square -- no one. He heardsome voices coming from some lighted homes, but Lin was definitely done for the night by 9:30

Not Mories: he climbed to the top of the steep rocky hill just behind our vans, but had a bit of

trouble getting down because he forgot to take a flashlight. How easily our adventures could turn todisaster, but hey, we were all there because we didn't think life was a spectator sport.

Saturday

DAY 49

Monday 29 August 2011

Our van Clifford is on the leftHeard (herd) goats, the town came alive by 6:45. Charles went a few steps to the water to write. Itwas actually chilly! He said hi to local Loud Donika with a Big Smile. The bright morning light onthe lake and hillsides was beautiful and tranquil. Turned out we were camped at a fish market! Littleboats came in, out came an old metal balance scale, a new calculator, cash, fish thrown ashore andthe fishermen were off. The cell phone for Mr. Buyer rang -- getting latest market prices?

Finally with a proper table and chairs, Charles played another game of chess with Goya right by thewater. Nicole gave art lesson to three little local girls.

Dian climbed up a steep hill to the top where she found an igloo-shaped sheepherder's hut with religious iconography inside. She reverently placed a watercolor shemade of 'Mary' and two boys (who looked a lot like Miro and Goya) and hoped it would bereceived in the right spirit by whomever entered next. Meanwhile, Nicole was responding to the callof nature and was terrified to see a small boy come into sight, and he wasn't a sheepherder. Goya,

seemingly unknowingly, marched forward oblivious to his and Nicole's peril. Nicole cried out 'Nay,nay, Goya, go away' complete with histrionic gestures but he seemed at a complete loss forwarnings in any language, until she finally blurted out, 'I'M PEEING!' and he muttered '... oh,'

with a sheepish grin, thus concluding this episode of Bathroom Travel Terrors.Back at the vans, little Anastasia was teaching the younger kids in the village the 'Kye Kye Kule'song. Being a pied piper has its drawbacks, however, as later three of the rascals hung around the

van, and on it, and in it, and wouldn't go away until Mories issued a stern warning. Not in Albanian,

but it worked.

Dian took another dip then sang songs for the kidsand Nicole chilled in the van until her eyes healed, thanks to the drops from the pharmacist inTirane, the capital. Also her sore throat improved, but all the time no complaints. What a bravetraveler. Charles climbed up for another view -- love that hilltop -- this time to the very peak wherethe view of the huge lake was 340 degrees. He saw Isabel and the boys swi ing way down belowon the other side. They came back and said it was great so Nicole and Dian did the same. Wheneveryone finally returned we left Lin, Albania, a village and people we'll never forget. And at leastthanks to Nicole's teaching the singing-dancing African song, they won't soon forget us either.

We wound our way through narrow streets out of town and up across the top of the lake to the

nearby border crossing into Macedonia (#14!) then headed to Ohrid, on the opposite shore from

Lin, because we heard it had a medieval church and ruins. Parking cheaply in the center of town weexplored the big market, buying veggies and.... a basketball for Charles! Sure, it's rubber, and toosmall, and made in China, but only 6 bucks, and now he's ready.

We opted for a short boat ride to the bottom of the ancient sites, and negotiated a very good pricefor seven passengers with a bottle of the captain's own home brewed schnapps thrown in, all forabout $11.50. Fortified, we took the long, steep hike up, well worth it. The lower chapel and thebasilica, from the 9th Century, were in the Orthodox style that we hadn't yet seen on our travels. Wecould have easily gotten lost on the way down (not really marked in any language we could figger)except for Tom and his two brothers, Germans but veterans of Ohrid streets because their mothergrew up there and they visited every su er, who showed us their personal best route right alongthe water, cutting through restaurants and private beaches like they belonged there. They stopped toshow us where a snake nearly fell on their heads along that path, from high up on a cliff. We droveout of town and once again tried for a great spot on the water but ran out of daylight and patienceand settled for an asphalt and dirt lot with a few big trucks, oh well. Too late and too tired forcooking, we nonetheless feasted on Dian's tomato and cheese sandwiches with garlic sauce on goodlocal bread, and retired well-fed and happy with another good day.

Saturday

DAY 50

Tuesday 30 August 2011

Isabel needed to make three more Magic Hares and mail them, and they were waiting on importantpapers to be delivered to Thessaloniki, Greece, so we opted for a chill day and found free parkingspitting distance from the water. Unfortunately for Isabel, the post office was closed on Tuesdays(?!). We rested and wrote. Dian awoke with a very sore back from climbing the steep hills of Lin(twice), and got some much needed rest.

Charles spoke at some length with the seaside vendor a few feet away. 'Alexander... the Great?'

Charles asked of the Macedonian, but no, he demurred. However he gave insight as to why

Macedonians don't like Greeks- they don't recognize Macedonia's nationhood, which returned in

1989 when Yugoslavia broke back into the six nations it had swallowed. George Bush did recognizethem, and signed a formal recognition, and gave them economic aid, and even visited, so Al theAlmost Great loved him. When asked his opinion of President Obama, he gave the universalEuropean response: face screwed up, shoulders hunched, hands spread out- don't know.It was after Nicole had exhausted all the restaurants for their bathroom facilities in the i ediatearea, that Dian declared she had a craving for a strawberry gelato. Nicole was on a mission. Charlesjoined her, and they brought back their bounty to the recovering Dian. With gelato at only 50 cents ascoop- the messengers had to indulge, too.

That evening, the weather turned blustery. The Dutch family pulled out their kite, Charles played

another game of chess with eight-year-old Goya on the promenade, and Mories cooked a goodbyedinner of couscous and fava beans. Both families' riddles were answered, and an appreciation forthe five days we shared was expressed in words and also without.

Charles and Mories went out to find Internet and share a beer, and plan their separate routes to

Greece.