Lake Ohrid in Macedonia Before I left for Macedonia, I asked for recommendations from a friend who had been to most of the region. I told her I was looking for a restful, quiet place that is also fairly well connected with the outside world. \"I know just what you need,\" she said. \"You should go to Lake Ohrid, Macedonia.\"
That sounded good to me. There was just one problem: at the time, I had never heard of Macedonia.
The closest I\'d been to this part of Europe was a week-long trip to Budapest and Prague. This time, I wanted to explore a bit further. What could I learn beyond the bigger cities? And where was Macedonia, actually?
It turned out that Macedonia was in Southeast Europe, just above Greece, and getting there required a late-night bus ride with a group of Albanians. Thankfully, this was no 36-hour bus ride like the one I\'d taken through Uganda, Kenya and Tanzania; instead, it was a series of trains and buses through the whole region. I began in the former Yugoslavia, travelling by the water through Croatia and Montenegro without a real plan. At each stop I stayed for a while, eventually turning up at another bus or train station, asking about the next ride out of town.
At the midnight border stop, I was initially concerned when the Albanians were quickly waved on but the bus was held up for me, the sole holder of a non-regional passport. Thankfully, I paid only $10 (Dh37) for a visa and we were soon on our way. A few hours after midnight, I was dropped off at the town entrance of Ohrid, the city with the same name as the lake I had been recommended. I had a reservation at a small inn, but not until the next day - and the city was fully booked that night. A huge party was taking place, with techno music blasting through the square, and even a group of young children were playing in the streets as if it were lunchtime recess at kindergarten.
Albanian buses not being conducive to sleep so I had arrived bone-tired. After walking through the town, I left my bags at the inn and asked for the earliest possible time I could check in. Maybe if I came back in the morning, the night attendant hinted, something could be worked out.
I\'ve slept on the floor of airports all over the world. On the theory that if I have a flight at 6am and a late connection the night before, it doesn\'t make sense to get a room. I\'ll do my best to \"borrow\" a blanket or two from the previous flight and camp out in a quiet area. The goal is to, firstly, get at least three to four hours of sleep, and secondly, avoid getting hassled by the cleaning crew (usually friendly) and the police (not always friendly).
The Ohrid arrival was a new challenge, however: there was simply nowhere to sleep, and even the benches were occupied. Desperate, I laid down on the ground by a church and closed my eyes. Real sleep was impossible, but I rested for as long as I could with the techno music in the background. At 5am I went back to the inn. It probably wasn\'t quite \"morning time\", but my desperation was visible. The night clerk let me in.
After I had slept, I enjoyed my stay in Ohrid very much. Over the next few days, I wandered the town, ran around the lake and settled in. I talked with Annika, who was attending hospitality school and hoped to work in London or New York one day. When it came time to leave, I took another bus up to Skopje, the modern capital city of Macedonia. I liked it there, too, and began to think of staying longer. Everyone talks about moving to Paris, or perhaps Lisbon or Prague as the slightly more exotic choice. But what would it be like to move somewhere you had no history? Maybe one day I\'ll settle in Skopje, and people will ask, \"Where\'s that?\"