|The 'Old Bridge', Skopje|
“You have problem” is becoming a familiar phrase as we fumble our way through our journey especially when officialdom is involved. We were now stuck between the borders of two countries without a valid insurance policy for either. The guard pointed towards a small, rusting shack nearby and told us we must buy another policy for Albania in order to drive to the other crossing where we had to buy our policy for Macedonia. As we made our way towards the shack the border guard picked up a phone and soon we heard an electronic warble coming from inside the insurance office. A French rider we’d met months ago in Germany told us of a strategy he uses when dealing with authority figures, smile and talk constantly, so the two of us went to work on the poor insurance salesman and we soon had him convinced that there had been a terrible mix up and his services wouldn’t be required at this time. We bade a hasty farewell and sped off into Albania to attempt another crossing. Every hour you ride in Albania takes approximately two hours of the life off your motorcycle and after a bone jarring race around Lake Ohrid we found ourselves going through the same old routine one more time. The Albanians were most agreeable in letting us leave but the Macedonians insisted we visit a nearby booth and add their country to our ever growing list of insurance coverage. It was here we encountered our first taste of Macedonian hospitality.
|Busy morning at Moto Camp Bulgaria|
|Inside the ruined Buzludzha|
|We're sure the architect was a Star Trek fan.|